<?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-7275779486869169368</id><updated>2012-01-30T02:01:33.107-05:00</updated><category term='Parents'/><category term='korean drama'/><category term='Harlemm Lee'/><category term='Day 2'/><category term='Obsession'/><category term='Guys'/><category term='Fergie'/><category term='Viet'/><category term='Sunday'/><category term='Pizza'/><category term='Yan Yan'/><category term='Minute Maid'/><category term='Food'/><category term='Chinese'/><category term='music'/><category term='Vietnamese'/><category term='fall'/><category term='Big Girls Don&apos;t Cry'/><category term='Monday'/><category term='School'/><category term='Calories'/><title type='text'>THE DAYS WITHOUT...</title><subtitle type='html'>....the days without guys in our life is...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>196</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-894069916389327232</id><published>2011-09-22T03:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T03:29:47.682-04:00</updated><title type='text'>soon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will my feeble mind stop dreaming for the impossible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will I learn to stop wanting what I can never have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will I see the light that's been blown out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will my desires burn to ash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will everything be ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will you love me for who I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will I stop coming around anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will the dry of my eyes exist no longer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;When will I stop allowing myself to feel and bury my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-894069916389327232?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/894069916389327232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=894069916389327232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/894069916389327232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/894069916389327232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2011/09/soon.html' title='soon'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8962827273328433742</id><published>2011-09-09T15:26:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T15:36:57.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This time around</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;There are times when you know what you're suppose to do, but where do  you find the courage to do so? At what part do you overcome the "what ifs" and to hell with everything?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;This isn't a tragedy, it's not a melodrama. Just a girl, living in a state of doubts and insecurities. What does she doubt? Why, her very being. The existence of her beliefs. Is she strong enough to stand before her maker and spit in his eye? We try not to second guess ourselves, we hear the words our instincts are screaming, but do we comprehend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;This isn't a big deal. It could be the tiniest insecurity, or the fall of her. How do you confront a dead past? What if you bring it back to life? What if it takes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;life instead? What if your biggest fear of not being able to let go comes true? That contentment is faux. How can we live on with no ending? The wait is killing us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;This time around, who will come out on top? Can I just keep my pride intact, please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8962827273328433742?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8962827273328433742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8962827273328433742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8962827273328433742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8962827273328433742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-time-around.html' title='This time around'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7233649975568578583</id><published>2011-04-06T16:36:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T16:47:28.122-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The days without....?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Hi guys! Long time since I've posted, but then, i highly doubt anybody reads my jibberish. :D But for those who do, i'm stump.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;What am I without these days? A muse. Inspiration. A desire. I feel like the days just blend into one another, and as much as I love routines to death, I believe it is taking it's toll on me. But I don't feel satisfied. What am I missing? What have I been going without?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Not a guy for sure, my baby's got me covered :) I love you sweetheart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Then what is my new inner drive? What am I to do with myself now? If life were like a chick flick, I could simply walk away and "find myself". But that is the hardest part to do. To just leave everything and not have any worries or guilt. So why couldn't it be so easy? What burdens us? That noose around our neck is only getting tighter, why haven't I found a way to escape yet? Cut the ties? Ah but I have but my own two hands, hands that cease to do as I wish when it made the knot to begin with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I want a simple life. I don't need glam or glitter. Call me boring, but I just want to be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I have an idea, but...where are the steps leading to that future? Why am I still sitting in the dark? Gotta get up. Gotta make up my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Is it time to live yet?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7233649975568578583?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7233649975568578583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7233649975568578583' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7233649975568578583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7233649975568578583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2011/04/days-without.html' title='The days without....?'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6146903037956782782</id><published>2011-03-18T23:26:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T23:34:42.276-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So cute &amp; funny!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://dcimg1.dcinside.com/viewimage.php?id=kimnamgil&amp;amp;no=29bcc427b48b77a16fb3dab004c86b6fb9d8952ef375c941f1cd51f5122ab10144d634243a743e11f88552262aef92b8e7cb658fe93bb985b973334c2a76acf4f4ff6b28d6ca3176323ab4df2e8f1b6c96deeff219eace6569373cd8c420ccd054&amp;amp;f_no=a15610ad180eb275ae340f609a34d0b007d552ca454943"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 312px;" src="http://dcimg1.dcinside.com/viewimage.php?id=kimnamgil&amp;amp;no=29bcc427b48b77a16fb3dab004c86b6fb9d8952ef375c941f1cd51f5122ab10144d634243a743e11f88552262aef92b8e7cb658fe93bb985b973334c2a76acf4f4ff6b28d6ca3176323ab4df2e8f1b6c96deeff219eace6569373cd8c420ccd054&amp;amp;f_no=a15610ad180eb275ae340f609a34d0b007d552ca454943" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://dcimg1.dcinside.com/viewimage.php?id=leeseunghyo&amp;amp;no=29bcc427b48b77a16fb3dab004c86b6fb9d99c2ef276c942f1cd56f91a37b519b0f46ae31a8800593603a3d0353bf81dd2675d68140248ebf82a97ba20b65c5de4351465f5011cfa20687929cbd0df75fcebe31bf1f5088998458323cf8f6aa3ab94c2&amp;amp;f_no=7cef8674bd876cf53ae9e9e74680746d2358d825dd7cc38ea6f6a8d827d747a5a82a6492f173bc620a"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 395px; height: 262px;" src="http://dcimg1.dcinside.com/viewimage.php?id=leeseunghyo&amp;amp;no=29bcc427b48b77a16fb3dab004c86b6fb9d99c2ef276c942f1cd56f91a37b519b0f46ae31a8800593603a3d0353bf81dd2675d68140248ebf82a97ba20b65c5de4351465f5011cfa20687929cbd0df75fcebe31bf1f5088998458323cf8f6aa3ab94c2&amp;amp;f_no=7cef8674bd876cf53ae9e9e74680746d2358d825dd7cc38ea6f6a8d827d747a5a82a6492f173bc620a" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://image.dcinside.com/viewimage.php?id=yowon&amp;amp;no=29bcc427b48b77a16fb3dab004c86b6fb9d99c2ef276c943fccd43f3082bbe43ca3eec1f9546accaeddb968701a2a3cb6281f2eacc0c79e35389e7f76dc30f36d2713f53c29447b41a19a3d5b432e346f27577622d2c"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 212px;" src="http://image.dcinside.com/viewimage.php?id=yowon&amp;amp;no=29bcc427b48b77a16fb3dab004c86b6fb9d99c2ef276c943fccd43f3082bbe43ca3eec1f9546accaeddb968701a2a3cb6281f2eacc0c79e35389e7f76dc30f36d2713f53c29447b41a19a3d5b432e346f27577622d2c" 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/7275779486869169368-6146903037956782782?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6146903037956782782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6146903037956782782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6146903037956782782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6146903037956782782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2011/03/so-cute.html' title='So cute &amp; funny!'/><author><name>Che Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08823881642669840088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/TLut-P6_DCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9HqwR_yAnOE/S220/sakura-wallpaper_800x600.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-64539241487576821</id><published>2011-03-18T22:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T22:19:34.972-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WANT HER OUTFIT!</title><content type='html'>but i need to be taller and lose some weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://imgnews.naver.com/image/edaily/2009/05/14/1242292203.666343_PP09051400044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 480px; height: 774px;" src="http://imgnews.naver.com/image/edaily/2009/05/14/1242292203.666343_PP09051400044.JPG" 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/7275779486869169368-64539241487576821?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/64539241487576821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=64539241487576821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/64539241487576821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/64539241487576821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2011/03/want-her-outfit.html' title='WANT HER OUTFIT!'/><author><name>Che Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08823881642669840088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/TLut-P6_DCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9HqwR_yAnOE/S220/sakura-wallpaper_800x600.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-86862398187269413</id><published>2011-03-18T19:49:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T20:00:21.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kim Nam Gil</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I got the hots for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7HzNkCAd5P0/TF2M6dqfZuI/AAAAAAAAE1s/naebjt0Tj8U/s1600/090806_kim_nam_gil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 341px; height: 514px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7HzNkCAd5P0/TF2M6dqfZuI/AAAAAAAAE1s/naebjt0Tj8U/s1600/090806_kim_nam_gil.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images2.fanpop.com/image/photos/11300000/Kim-Nam-Gil-all-about-korea-11353631-1126-1080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 478px;" src="http://images2.fanpop.com/image/photos/11300000/Kim-Nam-Gil-all-about-korea-11353631-1126-1080.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zt8BbXFHnU4/TO3YfFog1jI/AAAAAAAAAW0/DCox56GOTmI/s1600/%25C2%25B9%25C2%25B0%25C2%25BF%25C2%25A1%25C3%2581%25C2%25A5%25C3%2580%25C2%25BA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 493px; height: 511px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zt8BbXFHnU4/TO3YfFog1jI/AAAAAAAAAW0/DCox56GOTmI/s1600/%25C2%25B9%25C2%25B0%25C2%25BF%25C2%25A1%25C3%2581%25C2%25A5%25C3%2580%25C2%25BA.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-86862398187269413?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/86862398187269413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=86862398187269413' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/86862398187269413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/86862398187269413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-got-hots-for-him.html' title='Kim Nam Gil'/><author><name>Che Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08823881642669840088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/TLut-P6_DCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9HqwR_yAnOE/S220/sakura-wallpaper_800x600.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7HzNkCAd5P0/TF2M6dqfZuI/AAAAAAAAE1s/naebjt0Tj8U/s72-c/090806_kim_nam_gil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6330055208366150881</id><published>2011-03-17T23:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T23:26:46.114-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korean drama'/><title type='text'>Queen Seon Deok Drama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://edengallery.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/queen-seonduk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://edengallery.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/queen-seonduk.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;"  &gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: 'Lucida Grande',Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 8px 12px; background-image: url(&amp;quot;http://assets.tumblr.com/images/input_bg.gif&amp;quot;); background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); padding: 0px; line-height: 1.4; font-weight: normal; background-position: 50% 0%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is what I'm currently watching. 62 episodes. Finally it is coming to an end. I'm on episode 51.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6330055208366150881?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6330055208366150881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6330055208366150881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6330055208366150881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6330055208366150881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2011/03/queen-seon-deok-drama.html' title='Queen Seon Deok Drama'/><author><name>Che Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08823881642669840088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/TLut-P6_DCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9HqwR_yAnOE/S220/sakura-wallpaper_800x600.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4286378555179266165</id><published>2010-10-17T22:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T22:38:25.904-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for you today</title><content type='html'>Sunday, October 17, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told myself to not worry too much that I will see you today. Even as late as 8pm. Time went by and I felt like a fool. Waiting and waiting for something that was not mine. I didn't want to bother you so I didn't text you as much. But I was constantly checking my phone to see if you would text me about your whereabouts, but there was nothing... I looked to you for an answer and some comforting words that maybe, just maybe we could see each other soon. But there was nothing. I had to comfort myself and tried to occupy my mind with other things so that time would fly by fast enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat there dressed and ready. But like a bride at the altar, my groom never came. The weekend was slowly coming to an end. You knew how much I wanted to see you. You knew we weren't going to meet Saturday. You could have saved today. Why didn't you? Why didn't you wake me up before it all started to crumble? Maybe... I could see you for a second before everything went downhill. I cried and I cried. Why me? Why today? Why the weekends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From hopeful to hopeless. I'm was angry and irritated, but still I was holding to a slim chance. Until you tell me that you don't know. When did my knight in shining armor becomes useless? Why isn't he fighting for us? I guess we should of ended last week. I should of stayed strong and let you go. However, I gave us a chance. And now I feel like a fool. I wish you were honest with me. Why did you lie to me? Even the smallest thing. You knew. You knew. I am so sad and broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wrote my goodbye letter, tears were running down my eyes like a gushing water fall that never ends. I felt every drop on my face. Even after it all, I was still hoping that you would show up in front of my house and convinced me to leave with you. You could have done so much. You could of called me. You knew I wanted to see your face and hear your voice. But you were so cruel. You didn't do any of that! Every time that I have faith in you, you disappoint me. I just hope you would hold true to your words and stand up for what you believe in. And follow your heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that I will never be the same. That I will cry myself to sleep every night. And when I think of you I will burst out crying as well. Sadness is what I am feeling. No, I won't hate you. Don't think you can take the short cut out of this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-4286378555179266165?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4286378555179266165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4286378555179266165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4286378555179266165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4286378555179266165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/10/waiting-for-you-today.html' title='Waiting for you today'/><author><name>Che Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08823881642669840088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/TLut-P6_DCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9HqwR_yAnOE/S220/sakura-wallpaper_800x600.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6239418287597925055</id><published>2010-09-08T11:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T11:14:26.142-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainy Day</title><content type='html'>i love rain. i love looking out the window and stare at the rain falling down. slanting rain, straight rain, rain that comes down in buckets, or sprinkly rain. what i don't love is, when my entire feet and socks and shoes are soaking wet from walking a freaking mile from the parking lot to my class. and every path on campus is flooded with water, so its impossible to avoid those puddles! i need to buy rain boots...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://viterbivoices.usc.edu/evans/files/2010/04/Rain.jpg" alt="200236712-001" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6239418287597925055?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6239418287597925055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6239418287597925055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6239418287597925055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6239418287597925055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/09/rainy-day.html' title='Rainy Day'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-1959771990137309097</id><published>2010-08-25T09:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T09:39:24.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'>just leave</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/heldf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 350px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/heldf.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think you care anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-1959771990137309097?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/1959771990137309097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=1959771990137309097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1959771990137309097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1959771990137309097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/08/just-leave.html' title='just leave'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_heldf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3313089110104035639</id><published>2010-08-21T14:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T14:33:58.868-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/THAcDSKBdQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/E-4LNGolxTE/s1600/view.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/THAcDSKBdQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/E-4LNGolxTE/s400/view.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507933187013178626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sit still.&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;listen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-3313089110104035639?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3313089110104035639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3313089110104035639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3313089110104035639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3313089110104035639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/08/blue.html' title='Blue'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/THAcDSKBdQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/E-4LNGolxTE/s72-c/view.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5859150374252044170</id><published>2010-08-18T18:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T18:05:24.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TGxY0ryXAsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/MBgBddr_m7U/s1600/bitchith.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 356px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TGxY0ryXAsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/MBgBddr_m7U/s400/bitchith.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506874106497663682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm walking, walking...walking. Laughter, smile, jokes, and infatuation. Yet everything turns up on a dead end street.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5859150374252044170?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5859150374252044170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5859150374252044170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5859150374252044170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5859150374252044170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-now.html' title='What now?'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TGxY0ryXAsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/MBgBddr_m7U/s72-c/bitchith.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3507961495969906707</id><published>2010-08-03T17:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T17:47:19.504-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I hate you.</title><content type='html'>Dear you, maybe I hate you.&lt;br /&gt;No I lied, I do not hate you. But I would like to say, "Go fuck your self until you bleed into a coma." No, I wouldn't do that either, that would be too mean for my standard. Why would I waste such energy on hating you.  Why am I still wasting energy thinking about you? All the hurt you have caused me, I still can not let go. It's been a couple of years since we last interact. But I would like to see you again, put away the hurt, and fully embrace you and wish all the best for you. Maybe I'll be able to let go the hurt if I see you again. Maybe we can be friends again. We were childhood friends once, so lets come to some sort of closure, so I can stop hurting every time I see you in a picture and wishing that you'll trip and break your face. j/k!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-3507961495969906707?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3507961495969906707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3507961495969906707' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3507961495969906707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3507961495969906707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/08/maybe-i-hate-you.html' title='Maybe I hate you.'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2608365980944704741</id><published>2010-07-27T21:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T21:37:33.058-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/grow-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 186px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/grow-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be still my heart,&lt;br /&gt;for you can not falter.&lt;br /&gt;Cease your tempo,&lt;br /&gt;suppress your temptation,&lt;br /&gt;and let me wither.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-2608365980944704741?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2608365980944704741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2608365980944704741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2608365980944704741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2608365980944704741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/07/be-still-my-heart-for-you-can-not.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_grow-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7420395968413283817</id><published>2010-07-20T16:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T16:44:31.620-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bang Bang</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/todrawapanda.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/todrawapanda.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is beating out of control.&lt;br /&gt;I drugged it with coffee on an empty stomach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7420395968413283817?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7420395968413283817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7420395968413283817' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7420395968413283817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7420395968413283817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/07/bang-bang.html' title='Bang Bang'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-625171349864280844</id><published>2010-07-19T17:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T17:09:49.675-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A love like this</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/uowme.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/uowme.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a love like this. A love where I own nothing.&lt;br /&gt;A love where I can safely turn to...with out guilt, selfishness, or fear.&lt;br /&gt;A love in which I can be raw in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-625171349864280844?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/625171349864280844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=625171349864280844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/625171349864280844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/625171349864280844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/07/love-like-this.html' title='A love like this'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_uowme.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6466512525706144952</id><published>2010-07-14T21:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T21:50:52.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear  You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/justgab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 245px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/justgab.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I do want to hold your hand.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you do make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am starting to love the way you grin at me.&lt;br /&gt;Just maybe's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6466512525706144952?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6466512525706144952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6466512525706144952' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6466512525706144952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6466512525706144952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/07/dear-you.html' title='Dear  You'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_justgab.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6104569150733290413</id><published>2010-07-08T20:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T20:47:14.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/inabottle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 323px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/inabottle.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/badly.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 50px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/badly.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would it be possible...do you think?...For each short time being together with you, I get a rush. But I would hit the epitome of inexplicable chemistry if you would just give me your consent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6104569150733290413?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6104569150733290413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6104569150733290413' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6104569150733290413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6104569150733290413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/07/tell-me.html' title='Tell me...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_inabottle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6794782763818051604</id><published>2010-06-30T09:43:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T10:08:13.835-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day Unknown</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtLzTYQzSI/AAAAAAAAAEg/KHltyD9N26k/s1600/IMG_3793.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtLzTYQzSI/AAAAAAAAAEg/KHltyD9N26k/s320/IMG_3793.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488563915628530978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtLNfbm-WI/AAAAAAAAAEI/LyAXh_6PGso/s1600/IMG_3793.JPG"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtLy5l7wPI/AAAAAAAAAEY/-H1LUmHxqqU/s1600/IMG_0102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtLy5l7wPI/AAAAAAAAAEY/-H1LUmHxqqU/s320/IMG_0102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488563908706550002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;To me, this is what best friends look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtNlT58lwI/AAAAAAAAAEw/pTCnVHpS6Lk/s1600/IMG_0073.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/43/l_294a4aa52b72484eb75f48fad2207f87.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 339px;" src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/43/l_294a4aa52b72484eb75f48fad2207f87.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, this is what family looks like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtO5qA5olI/AAAAAAAAAE4/2Olbmqe1gFk/s1600/IMG_0089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtO5qA5olI/AAAAAAAAAE4/2Olbmqe1gFk/s320/IMG_0089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488567323318657618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to me, this is what love looks like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Basically, those are all the things that I need to make me happy. I don't ask for much. Just for someone to be there for me when I need them. Because of these people, I am at the happiest I have ever been ever. And I appreciate it all. I can't believe that it's happening to me though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until Next Time,&lt;br /&gt;Che Dau Xanh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs335.snc3/29346_108682549179892_100001144418989_63070_7075686_n.jpg"&gt;      &lt;/a&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/7275779486869169368-6794782763818051604?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6794782763818051604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6794782763818051604' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6794782763818051604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6794782763818051604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/days-without-guys-year-2-day-unknown.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day Unknown'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/TCtLzTYQzSI/AAAAAAAAAEg/KHltyD9N26k/s72-c/IMG_3793.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6722804193133726258</id><published>2010-06-22T12:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T12:32:36.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/kissmoi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/kissmoi.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my aren't you cute...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6722804193133726258?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6722804193133726258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6722804193133726258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6722804193133726258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6722804193133726258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/hello-you.html' title='Hello You...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_kissmoi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4013121266272893556</id><published>2010-06-15T14:21:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T14:36:34.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Year 2 Day 276</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TBfHERhAPZI/AAAAAAAAAeU/gl5mbFmzQoY/s1600/003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TBfHERhAPZI/AAAAAAAAAeU/gl5mbFmzQoY/s400/003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483069947582102930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm bored. i'm going to vietnam and china after i graduate from college in 2 years :] my parents already promised and make plans so my father and i could visit china. he is like obsessed with their history all his life. i think their history is fascinating. even the evil and corrupted parts &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh, what to say. what to say. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do you believe in&lt;i&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;love&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; 'cause i sure don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;romantic love, i meant...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TBfIJH8WFnI/AAAAAAAAAec/KOtEmB8Xwlg/s400/chethai.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 100px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483071130423400050" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-4013121266272893556?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4013121266272893556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4013121266272893556' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4013121266272893556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4013121266272893556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/year-2-day-276.html' title='Year 2 Day 276'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TBfHERhAPZI/AAAAAAAAAeU/gl5mbFmzQoY/s72-c/003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3415523757043066103</id><published>2010-06-13T23:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T23:26:04.409-04:00</updated><title type='text'>click click</title><content type='html'>So the pictures in the previous posts are from VN. Click on them for a larger view!&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to post up some scenery, but that would be just more work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-3415523757043066103?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3415523757043066103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3415523757043066103' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3415523757043066103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3415523757043066103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/click-click.html' title='click click'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-683117125686978706</id><published>2010-06-13T22:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T23:06:08.275-04:00</updated><title type='text'>something something comes this way...</title><content type='html'>She's a brat. I got into an argument with her and end up making her cry. PWNED! j/k!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZytEvTuI/AAAAAAAAAKA/xtoWLjeax9Q/s1600/IMG_2695.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZytEvTuI/AAAAAAAAAKA/xtoWLjeax9Q/s400/IMG_2695.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482457217765428962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because I'm that strong :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZyJSNODI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/yjg_NLLAm7k/s1600/IMG_2719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZyJSNODI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/yjg_NLLAm7k/s400/IMG_2719.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482457208158238770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After  school, I totally love this little cousin of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZx_uwK1I/AAAAAAAAAJw/BAgywwlLq6g/s1600/IMG_2413.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZx_uwK1I/AAAAAAAAAJw/BAgywwlLq6g/s400/IMG_2413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482457205593615186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a pet of an uncle of mine and he's an arrogantly snippy. He chased me in the lawn one morning trying to snap my ankles off. He has a sharp beak with an obnoxious voice box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZxeW9CCI/AAAAAAAAAJo/x_FmLc6tOow/s1600/IMG_2279.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZxeW9CCI/AAAAAAAAAJo/x_FmLc6tOow/s400/IMG_2279.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482457196635424802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid bird...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZxCxPsoI/AAAAAAAAAJg/UGH0Br3LUqU/s1600/IMG_2122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZxCxPsoI/AAAAAAAAAJg/UGH0Br3LUqU/s400/IMG_2122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482457189229507202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the ocean catching...what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZAyfKMtI/AAAAAAAAAJY/TDw5Mifmh80/s1600/IMG_2332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZAyfKMtI/AAAAAAAAAJY/TDw5Mifmh80/s400/IMG_2332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482456360224961234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone took this picture of us. I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZAbmcTJI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/lE5Dvoro8Qo/s1600/IMG_2073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZAbmcTJI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/lE5Dvoro8Qo/s400/IMG_2073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482456354081492114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's buying tangerines! We were sight seeing (just mostly me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZAPdqZGI/AAAAAAAAAJI/onTHzN6ceys/s1600/IMG_1780.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZAPdqZGI/AAAAAAAAAJI/onTHzN6ceys/s400/IMG_1780.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482456350823441506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was infatuated with the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWY_oNElrI/AAAAAAAAAJA/JgACdRmaXCc/s1600/IMG_1913.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWY_oNElrI/AAAAAAAAAJA/JgACdRmaXCc/s400/IMG_1913.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482456340284872370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 of my uncles and my paternal grandmother. Due to an eye disease, her pupils were a clouded blue, which I thought were cool looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWY_UQBIpI/AAAAAAAAAI4/pns0x2Qaz_k/s1600/IMG_1712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWY_UQBIpI/AAAAAAAAAI4/pns0x2Qaz_k/s400/IMG_1712.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482456334928519826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 of my favorite people now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYVNhkNLI/AAAAAAAAAIw/jwXLErJZU5g/s1600/IMG_1570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYVNhkNLI/AAAAAAAAAIw/jwXLErJZU5g/s400/IMG_1570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482455611568567474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this kid. I can't wait to see how he is when he grows up, he has such charm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYUq8oKiI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Z5AJrDhdfFA/s1600/IMG_1618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYUq8oKiI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Z5AJrDhdfFA/s400/IMG_1618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482455602286832162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;something something something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYUFyqMBI/AAAAAAAAAIg/S1PKB_hq25g/s1600/IMG_1962.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYUFyqMBI/AAAAAAAAAIg/S1PKB_hq25g/s400/IMG_1962.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482455592312909842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He talks a lot, which was amusing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYTAC9xGI/AAAAAAAAAIY/IVW_VIp8dIA/s1600/IMG_1953.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYTAC9xGI/AAAAAAAAAIY/IVW_VIp8dIA/s400/IMG_1953.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482455573590819938" 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/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYS0_ZnUI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/mCcJ4dGxhCI/s1600/IMG_1940.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWYS0_ZnUI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/mCcJ4dGxhCI/s400/IMG_1940.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482455570623077698" 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/7275779486869169368-683117125686978706?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/683117125686978706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=683117125686978706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/683117125686978706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/683117125686978706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/something-something-comes-this-way.html' title='something something comes this way...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWZytEvTuI/AAAAAAAAAKA/xtoWLjeax9Q/s72-c/IMG_2695.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-49479948701590264</id><published>2010-06-13T22:22:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T22:37:40.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Peekaboo! Up at Da Lat. Blinding sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWUCCjip4I/AAAAAAAAAHw/WFgPRWdsBGI/s1600/IMG_2661.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWUCCjip4I/AAAAAAAAAHw/WFgPRWdsBGI/s400/IMG_2661.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450884160038786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chau and her cousin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT5xy0VbI/AAAAAAAAAHo/A7zbsm0oigk/s1600/IMG_2660.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT5xy0VbI/AAAAAAAAAHo/A7zbsm0oigk/s400/IMG_2660.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450742221755826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chau and moi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT5bYXJdI/AAAAAAAAAHg/oS1wc3dp5CI/s1600/IMG_2659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT5bYXJdI/AAAAAAAAAHg/oS1wc3dp5CI/s400/IMG_2659.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450736205211090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Om Non Non!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT40w07vI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Yf1uFNiBL2U/s1600/IMG_2658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT40w07vI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Yf1uFNiBL2U/s400/IMG_2658.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450725838843634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated my hair that morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT4Z2i4-I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Cuwf9etJ4H8/s1600/IMG_2656.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWT4Z2i4-I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Cuwf9etJ4H8/s400/IMG_2656.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450718615069666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her cousin snapped this picture of us. He took so many because he kept cutting me off or the picture was tilted. -___-;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTV2nu7gI/AAAAAAAAAHA/iCwiyVI4LdI/s1600/IMG_2645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTV2nu7gI/AAAAAAAAAHA/iCwiyVI4LdI/s400/IMG_2645.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450125042150914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gangsta Chau!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTVundujI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t5ZKOM9Q7xo/s1600/IMG_2642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTVundujI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t5ZKOM9Q7xo/s400/IMG_2642.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450122893539890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, a good picture of us both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTVY5KRNI/AAAAAAAAAGw/3Q5QY8P3T44/s1600/IMG_2644.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTVY5KRNI/AAAAAAAAAGw/3Q5QY8P3T44/s400/IMG_2644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450117062182098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I is a lonnnerrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTU7SvgaI/AAAAAAAAAGo/E9aWDBpzU1Y/s1600/IMG_2641.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTU7SvgaI/AAAAAAAAAGo/E9aWDBpzU1Y/s400/IMG_2641.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450109116416418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTUS0OXvI/AAAAAAAAAGg/mj7NBhytZUI/s1600/IMG_2629.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWTUS0OXvI/AAAAAAAAAGg/mj7NBhytZUI/s400/IMG_2629.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482450098250997490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That tree was pretty awesome looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS23nqrQI/AAAAAAAAAGY/1tF6sStVqeQ/s1600/IMG_2627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS23nqrQI/AAAAAAAAAGY/1tF6sStVqeQ/s400/IMG_2627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482449592734362882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hatting on the fish trash can. I thought those trash cans were pretty cool, I want one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS2QCPpuI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/hZHVz32XmC4/s1600/IMG_2620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS2QCPpuI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/hZHVz32XmC4/s400/IMG_2620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482449582108419810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her bronze lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS1k0E6QI/AAAAAAAAAGI/jIgQ8VIXc7U/s1600/IMG_2610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS1k0E6QI/AAAAAAAAAGI/jIgQ8VIXc7U/s400/IMG_2610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482449570506270978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS1AmxbqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/zIoe22ycwdQ/s1600/IMG_2572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS1AmxbqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/zIoe22ycwdQ/s400/IMG_2572.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482449560786792098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMILE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS0qKsHUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/Vx71kD8Fmmc/s1600/IMG_2548.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWS0qKsHUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/Vx71kD8Fmmc/s400/IMG_2548.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482449554763423042" 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/7275779486869169368-49479948701590264?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/49479948701590264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=49479948701590264' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/49479948701590264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/49479948701590264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/peekaboo-up-at-da-lat.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWUCCjip4I/AAAAAAAAAHw/WFgPRWdsBGI/s72-c/IMG_2661.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-856827360262153095</id><published>2010-06-13T22:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T22:22:09.732-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Boats</title><content type='html'>So many blue boats, so rich in color, so vibrant in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRcrVRvrI/AAAAAAAAAFw/-k5eRSZ3N84/s1600/IMG_1414.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRcrVRvrI/AAAAAAAAAFw/-k5eRSZ3N84/s400/IMG_1414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482448043247779506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello men! They were nice to stay out while I snapped a picture at them, because this one other guy turned away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRTlwSWMI/AAAAAAAAAFo/67xEgXfn43s/s1600/IMG_1409.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRTlwSWMI/AAAAAAAAAFo/67xEgXfn43s/s400/IMG_1409.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482447887131629762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More blue boats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRSgKnXTI/AAAAAAAAAFg/FXJ_i-L_9to/s1600/IMG_1407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRSgKnXTI/AAAAAAAAAFg/FXJ_i-L_9to/s400/IMG_1407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482447868451577138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People on boats...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRSOo4dnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/fLoCBwE55yY/s1600/IMG_1382.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRSOo4dnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/fLoCBwE55yY/s400/IMG_1382.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482447863746688626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boats, boats, Boats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRRmo-v3I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/84mdH3YjEgk/s1600/IMG_1376.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRRmo-v3I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/84mdH3YjEgk/s400/IMG_1376.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482447853009682290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman on our canoe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRRNDoBYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/XiRRmlAZiDE/s1600/IMG_1365.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRRNDoBYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/XiRRmlAZiDE/s400/IMG_1365.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482447846142117250" 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/7275779486869169368-856827360262153095?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/856827360262153095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=856827360262153095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/856827360262153095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/856827360262153095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/boats.html' title='The Boats'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWRcrVRvrI/AAAAAAAAAFw/-k5eRSZ3N84/s72-c/IMG_1414.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3577414382941771450</id><published>2010-06-13T21:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T22:12:46.544-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I'm hungry...</title><content type='html'>In the plane. I got the window seat when we were heading to VN. The scene at twilight was mystical; to see the sun and the moon at opposite ends between layers of clouds was breath taking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWLNtAGNMI/AAAAAAAAAEw/SyOLVWCgFv8/s1600/IMG_1302.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWLNtAGNMI/AAAAAAAAAEw/SyOLVWCgFv8/s400/IMG_1302.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482441188928009410" 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/7275779486869169368-3577414382941771450?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3577414382941771450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3577414382941771450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3577414382941771450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3577414382941771450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/because-im-hungry.html' title='Because I&apos;m hungry...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBWLNtAGNMI/AAAAAAAAAEw/SyOLVWCgFv8/s72-c/IMG_1302.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7962585316330371580</id><published>2010-06-11T11:37:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T11:47:32.984-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sneak peak</title><content type='html'>These are some random pictures I took with my dsl camera when I was still living in Miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJaRujiUPI/AAAAAAAAAEo/zW396JeOzss/s1600/IMG_3099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJaRujiUPI/AAAAAAAAAEo/zW396JeOzss/s400/IMG_3099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481542957064671474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJaRRcigmI/AAAAAAAAAEg/etODOrbSVYI/s1600/IMG_3089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJaRRcigmI/AAAAAAAAAEg/etODOrbSVYI/s400/IMG_3089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481542949250695778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJZlmPIbhI/AAAAAAAAAEY/VzHRq41Yo9w/s1600/IMG_2835.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJZlmPIbhI/AAAAAAAAAEY/VzHRq41Yo9w/s400/IMG_2835.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481542198917361170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJZZ8pwEEI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/017r5zZcvkE/s1600/IMG_2819.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJZZ8pwEEI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/017r5zZcvkE/s400/IMG_2819.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481541998776160322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJZAIr-b-I/AAAAAAAAAEI/oxc75XiwcY8/s1600/IMG_2814.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJZAIr-b-I/AAAAAAAAAEI/oxc75XiwcY8/s400/IMG_2814.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481541555330117602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJY3lwazpI/AAAAAAAAAEA/JZQKVJ9iR4Q/s1600/IMG_2806.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJY3lwazpI/AAAAAAAAAEA/JZQKVJ9iR4Q/s400/IMG_2806.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481541408514559634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJYp98ef8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/onXwEGXizAc/s1600/IMG_2794.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJYp98ef8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/onXwEGXizAc/s400/IMG_2794.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481541174489415618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJYY2BxpnI/AAAAAAAAADw/kLSMKhb6coA/s1600/IMG_2785.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJYY2BxpnI/AAAAAAAAADw/kLSMKhb6coA/s400/IMG_2785.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481540880306382450" 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/7275779486869169368-7962585316330371580?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7962585316330371580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7962585316330371580' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7962585316330371580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7962585316330371580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/sneak-peak.html' title='sneak peak'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TBJaRujiUPI/AAAAAAAAAEo/zW396JeOzss/s72-c/IMG_3099.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6174117838116076909</id><published>2010-06-09T14:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T15:48:58.491-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Hung...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TA_dMaYNkAI/AAAAAAAAADo/D7-iipdGiuU/s1600/justgab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 245px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TA_dMaYNkAI/AAAAAAAAADo/D7-iipdGiuU/s400/justgab.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480842476842225666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we could, I would love to love you. I think we'll be great together. I remember the first time I saw you years back; you had a smile that could lit up the room. And the funny thing is, we kept running into each other a couple of more times. As far as you'll never know, for those scant times, I could never take my eyes off you. But just scanning through these pictures and seeing your face again, I just wish that you would be mine right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6174117838116076909?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6174117838116076909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6174117838116076909' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6174117838116076909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6174117838116076909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/dear-hung.html' title='Dear Hung...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TA_dMaYNkAI/AAAAAAAAADo/D7-iipdGiuU/s72-c/justgab.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-45519560393348009</id><published>2010-06-08T10:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T10:26:02.949-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Didn't Noticed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/swet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/swet.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But surprisingly you have a very nice voice.&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly you have such mesmerizing eyes.&lt;br /&gt;And surprisingly I'm just letting you go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-45519560393348009?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/45519560393348009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=45519560393348009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/45519560393348009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/45519560393348009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/didnt-noticed.html' title='Didn&apos;t Noticed'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_swet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5255129669116997673</id><published>2010-06-03T15:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T15:46:26.269-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Smashed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/secondhcance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 360px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/secondhcance.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because time seems to blur, I tend to lose that second chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5255129669116997673?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5255129669116997673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5255129669116997673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5255129669116997673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5255129669116997673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/smashed.html' title='Smashed'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_secondhcance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3637264954487142535</id><published>2010-06-02T16:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T16:49:33.175-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Prevailing Question</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/watifs.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 152px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/watifs.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I held you long? What if I had the courage to hold onto your hand as you walked away? What if you turned around and smiled at me, letting me know that you'll just be a step away, and never farther than that? And what if I just never met you at all?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-3637264954487142535?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3637264954487142535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3637264954487142535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3637264954487142535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3637264954487142535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/prevailing-question.html' title='Prevailing Question'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_watifs.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5373884031482787755</id><published>2010-06-01T11:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T11:41:59.260-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear you..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/bird.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 350px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/bird.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I whispered a "Hello" to you today. You may not have heard it. But the birds did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5373884031482787755?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5373884031482787755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5373884031482787755' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5373884031482787755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5373884031482787755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/06/dear-you.html' title='Dear you..'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_bird.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4407050409445577869</id><published>2010-05-30T00:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T00:15:17.930-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 260</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TAHmOY_eV1I/AAAAAAAAAd8/hofbmpNIw-U/s1600/Picture+343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TAHmOY_eV1I/AAAAAAAAAd8/hofbmpNIw-U/s400/Picture+343.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476911756760471378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TAHjnoVLc5I/AAAAAAAAAd0/Ymg_72c_rdw/s1600/Picture+350.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TAHjnoVLc5I/AAAAAAAAAd0/Ymg_72c_rdw/s400/Picture+350.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476908891839886226" 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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TAHjnD7O5iI/AAAAAAAAAds/mkxx-lPYWD4/s1600/Picture+349.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TAHjnD7O5iI/AAAAAAAAAds/mkxx-lPYWD4/s400/Picture+349.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476908882067383842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little something I'm doing for a friend :D It's not done yet though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahh....random posting of vietnamese song lyric.................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"Phút cuối không nghe được em nói &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt; không nhìn được một lần &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt; dù một lần đơn sơ"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-4407050409445577869?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4407050409445577869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4407050409445577869' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4407050409445577869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4407050409445577869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/days-without-guys-year-2-day-260.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 260'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TAHmOY_eV1I/AAAAAAAAAd8/hofbmpNIw-U/s72-c/Picture+343.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6554117326865768488</id><published>2010-05-29T10:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T10:10:35.552-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/gasp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 321px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/gasp.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you're as beautiful as they come. The way you view the world so indifferently has me heart bound. I'm just mesmerize by the shiftiness of your eyes and the cowardice of your stance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6554117326865768488?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6554117326865768488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6554117326865768488' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6554117326865768488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6554117326865768488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/dear-you.html' title='Dear You...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_gasp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-105982220489563728</id><published>2010-05-29T09:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T10:52:47.564-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For Maddie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/clams.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 448px; height: 439px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/clams.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-105982220489563728?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/105982220489563728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=105982220489563728' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/105982220489563728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/105982220489563728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/for-maddie.html' title='For Maddie'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_clams.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7201845394463554591</id><published>2010-05-29T00:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T00:56:48.195-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 258</title><content type='html'>The closer I get to adulthood, the more my parents treat me as if I'm a child. I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to school and get good grades. I make sure my little brother eats and that he always has money. I go to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try my best to not do anything to make them not let me stay out for a little bit. I stay out late at least once every 2 months. And late is about 12 am, not even. And I don't know what to say. What do you say when your mom kicks you out? What do you say when your dad tells you that you're a disappointment to the family? What do you say when your parents tell you that you're giving them a bad reputation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this has to do with one thing. RELIGION.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family is making me dislike my religion more and more. And I cannot convert because I don't want to be that disrespectful. But everything always relates to religion. Who made up religion? Why should I have guidelines on how to live my life? It's my life, I should be able to do what I want. It's not fair that I work my fucking ass off in school and at work then I go out for a little bit and I get yelled at as an award. What did I do to deserve this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These questions probably will never be answered. As of now, they just want me in the house just because. And I am sick and tired of being treated as if I am 5 years old. I am sick of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;Che Dau Xanh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7201845394463554591?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7201845394463554591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7201845394463554591' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7201845394463554591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7201845394463554591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/days-without-guys-year-2-day-258.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 258'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7551197737753664998</id><published>2010-05-29T00:14:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T00:36:02.647-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 257</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;I am depressed once again. Planning out the rest of my 2 years of college as well as financial situations makes me utterly depressed and wonder if this is worth it. If spending 10 goddamn years of my life in school is worth it. Well, 8 I should say. 2 down. 8 to go. A lot of people look or think of me as crazy whenever I tell them that. I guess not everyone knows what they want in life and not everyone has that kind of patient. I don't either but I always try to think in the long run, I'll benefit from this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Apparently these days, my only free times are 11-12 at night. The rest of my day involves babysitting and not getting any time for myself. Hell, I can't even sit down for 30 minutes at home without someone or something bothering me or going out for even ONE freaking hour without a phone call asking where I am and why am I not home and when will I be back so they can leave. How am I surviving this, you wonder? I question the same thing. -_________- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;This girl I know in high school spent like 3 weeks this summer in Europe on a tour to England, Scotland, etc. I am utterly super jealous of her. When will it be my turn to go on a vacation and relax for a while?!?!? And plus I'm quite mad about Europe. It's where I yearn to belong there someday...haha. The United States makes me depressed. I hate it here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Yep. Whenever I have nothing to say I post up random stuff but whenever I do, it's absolutely endless, it seems. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Sorry I don't have a cute picture every time I post like Banh Xeo there :/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TACXCi37Q1I/AAAAAAAAAdc/b-Sk5yYzpGU/s1600/chethai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TACXCi37Q1I/AAAAAAAAAdc/b-Sk5yYzpGU/s400/chethai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476543216859431762" 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/7275779486869169368-7551197737753664998?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7551197737753664998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7551197737753664998' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7551197737753664998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7551197737753664998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/days-without-guys-year-2-day-255.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 257'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/TACXCi37Q1I/AAAAAAAAAdc/b-Sk5yYzpGU/s72-c/chethai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2016240231991006443</id><published>2010-05-28T13:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T13:51:48.324-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TAABJiTrJ1I/AAAAAAAAAC8/idHrlNiRhA0/s1600/howdou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TAABJiTrJ1I/AAAAAAAAAC8/idHrlNiRhA0/s400/howdou.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476378410222298962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually Piglet...it's spelled L-O-V-E. And it comes crashing in like when you get hit with a tsunami of fluffy pillows. Unexpected and surreal. But oh what a ride it'll be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-2016240231991006443?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2016240231991006443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2016240231991006443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2016240231991006443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2016240231991006443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-do-you.html' title='How do you...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/TAABJiTrJ1I/AAAAAAAAAC8/idHrlNiRhA0/s72-c/howdou.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8511855217579479122</id><published>2010-05-27T13:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T13:53:21.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hit it right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/S_6vCjAkYII/AAAAAAAAAB4/qoZuxAtqO0s/s1600/wrong.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/S_6vCjAkYII/AAAAAAAAAB4/qoZuxAtqO0s/s400/wrong.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476006655221325954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times have that happened? You were just standing right there, only to dispersed when I turn around to seek you out. But I remember one time...as I stood still, I heard your foot steps coming closer and closer, your voice getting louder and louder and my heart beating faster and faster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8511855217579479122?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8511855217579479122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8511855217579479122' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8511855217579479122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8511855217579479122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/hit-it-right.html' title='Hit it right'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/S_6vCjAkYII/AAAAAAAAAB4/qoZuxAtqO0s/s72-c/wrong.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4005286631851495841</id><published>2010-05-27T03:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T03:08:37.597-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 254</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;my mother thinks that i should never get married. i don't blame her. commitment these days are as thin as a paper. therefore, you'll be tearing off my paper heart once you go breaking my heart. paper comes from tree which is need for life... my paper heart is of high importance, so don't trash it. at least recycle it so someone else can treasure it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_4ZxNzevFI/AAAAAAAAAKw/3MuIDQLKCak/s1600/chetrai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_4ZxNzevFI/AAAAAAAAAKw/3MuIDQLKCak/s400/chetrai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475842530238970962" 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/7275779486869169368-4005286631851495841?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4005286631851495841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4005286631851495841' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4005286631851495841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4005286631851495841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/days-without-guys-year-2-day-254.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 254'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_4ZxNzevFI/AAAAAAAAAKw/3MuIDQLKCak/s72-c/chetrai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-1824071206317856330</id><published>2010-05-26T14:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T15:10:59.805-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tickle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/S_1xU2XQbuI/AAAAAAAAABw/hm0GskQXj_Q/s1600/sometimes.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/S_1xU2XQbuI/AAAAAAAAABw/hm0GskQXj_Q/s400/sometimes.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475657324956774114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like how you used to smile at me, propelling my heart to dance...and willing itself to burst.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-1824071206317856330?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/1824071206317856330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=1824071206317856330' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1824071206317856330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1824071206317856330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/tickle.html' title='A Tickle'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/S_1xU2XQbuI/AAAAAAAAABw/hm0GskQXj_Q/s72-c/sometimes.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7658058696494312707</id><published>2010-05-25T14:33:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T15:10:51.188-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 252</title><content type='html'>let's keep this blog alive again like it was 2 years+ ago when we had like 10 posts in a single day. i laughed when i was reading Che Ba Mau's post about flowers and chocolate. i must agree with her giving flowers to someone is quite romantic yet pointless at the same time. they whither and die in like 3 days. i'm not a huge fan of chocolate myself since it makes you fatttt. i prefer something worthwhile and more realistic, such as brand name handbags or jewelry or soccer jerseys! man, they are expensive yet i still pour all the money i have into it -_-" ... not only do they last more than flowers you can also use it for a longgg time too. or just give me money. i'll be just fine with that :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm another one of those amateur so called photographer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_wcEXT6PjI/AAAAAAAAAcY/0eT-UIZYJJ0/s1600/Picture+116.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_wcEXT6PjI/AAAAAAAAAcY/0eT-UIZYJJ0/s400/Picture+116.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475282108278259250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_wcYix01BI/AAAAAAAAAcg/epPzVlpoiXM/s1600/Picture+267.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 343px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_wcYix01BI/AAAAAAAAAcg/epPzVlpoiXM/s400/Picture+267.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475282454953907218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahh, i know. not the usual complains about school from me this time. i'm just tired of it. don't want to talk about it, think about it, or write about it....and guys? what guys? -_-" oh that's right. one who likes me but i don't like in return and one who i like but doesn't know i exist. such is the life of Che Thai. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what i want to do now?! become a doctor for the US army :] &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;yay or nay, che buddies?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_wd2Jty3VI/AAAAAAAAAco/yKPk5HLbdxY/s1600/chethai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_wd2Jty3VI/AAAAAAAAAco/yKPk5HLbdxY/s400/chethai.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475284063133818194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7658058696494312707?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7658058696494312707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7658058696494312707' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7658058696494312707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7658058696494312707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/days-without-guys-year-2-day-252_25.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 252'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_wcEXT6PjI/AAAAAAAAAcY/0eT-UIZYJJ0/s72-c/Picture+116.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7591365617605729434</id><published>2010-05-25T13:39:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T17:08:58.177-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I love you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/invest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 529px; height: 375px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/invest.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, I love you, I love you! I love you a million times, I love you a day and for ever. I love everything that you are composed of, every fiber, every cell, every neurons that unmistakeably make you the perfectly flawed person in my life. I love the way you breathe, the way you talk, your lingering laughter, the intensity of your eyes, the curve of your lips, your slight gesture...everything.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not in love. I've never been in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7591365617605729434?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7591365617605729434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7591365617605729434' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7591365617605729434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7591365617605729434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-love-you-i-love-you-i-love-you-i-love.html' title='I love you'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_invest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3568441965892705082</id><published>2010-05-25T04:28:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T04:25:43.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 252</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;I feel a sense of comfort when I'm staying up late, without a word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;without a word, I am able to reflect upon myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;without a word, I am able to touch the deepest part of my emotions.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;without a word, I am able to truly myself. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;without a word... how i miss thee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;am i a baby for crying over this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;am i a baby that just needs to learn people's opinions are not important?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am just a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just wanted people to know the real me.&lt;br /&gt;to look pass my mistakes in life.&lt;br /&gt;to love me with a forgiving heart. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;i just wanted to be accepted....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_uLxHjh_9I/AAAAAAAAAKo/E-9KF8k7Ohg/s1600/chetrai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_uLxHjh_9I/AAAAAAAAAKo/E-9KF8k7Ohg/s400/chetrai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475123447956897746" 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/7275779486869169368-3568441965892705082?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3568441965892705082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3568441965892705082' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3568441965892705082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3568441965892705082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/days-without-guys-year-2-day-252.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 252'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_uLxHjh_9I/AAAAAAAAAKo/E-9KF8k7Ohg/s72-c/chetrai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-9200498356113979573</id><published>2010-05-24T16:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T16:06:32.793-04:00</updated><title type='text'>growing up...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/geteabottle.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/geteabottle.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;makes you realize certain things. it makes you sacrifice certain things. it makes you gain certain things, makes you love certain things, makes you loose certain things. but never once, does it fail to give you memories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-9200498356113979573?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/9200498356113979573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=9200498356113979573' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/9200498356113979573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/9200498356113979573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2010/05/growing-up.html' title='growing up...'/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i979.photobucket.com/albums/ae275/foru2see2/Pics/th_geteabottle.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8384178446542079616</id><published>2009-12-03T17:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T17:39:23.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day Unknown (too lazy to count)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same." --The Fray&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things have been going pretty okay lately. I wouldn't ask for more. I wouldn't ask for less. It's just the future that is scaring me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My nationality and religion makes it hard for me to have my cake and eat it too. It just sucks. It sucks knowing that one day, I'm not going to be as happy as I am now. I know that one day, things will change and that I myself will have to change. I try so hard to not think about it because I just want to live for the moment and be happy. I am happy now, but I know that one day, it'll all end. It'll just end. But whatever, I'm going to be as happy as I can now. Somehow, things will work. I know it will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until next time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Che Dau Xanh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8384178446542079616?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8384178446542079616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8384178446542079616' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8384178446542079616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8384178446542079616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/12/days-without-guys-year-2-day-unknown.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day Unknown (too lazy to count)'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2451804228506011500</id><published>2009-11-18T20:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T20:21:17.365-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I just want to pick up my cell phone and just call one of my friends and just talk...be it a long time good friend or just more of an acquataince. It's like this need to tell someone what I'm thinking. And more than once, what ever I'm yearning to share...yeah it's of little imporatnace. And the funny thing is, I'm also waitting for some kind of respond, just to hear another voice than my own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-2451804228506011500?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2451804228506011500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2451804228506011500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2451804228506011500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2451804228506011500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes-i-just-want-to-pick-up-my.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8117648341192482485</id><published>2009-11-16T15:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T15:18:51.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>blah blah blah blahhhhhhhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;ok&lt;br /&gt;it's lovely out. makes me happy =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8117648341192482485?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8117648341192482485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8117648341192482485' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8117648341192482485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8117648341192482485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/11/blah-blah-blah-blahhhhhhhhhhh-ok-its.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2713611186141346991</id><published>2009-11-10T12:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T12:11:22.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It is useless to cry. I feel so stupid...but at least I might be in the process of getting on the right tracks again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-2713611186141346991?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2713611186141346991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2713611186141346991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2713611186141346991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2713611186141346991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-is-useless-to-cry.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7303583293559653500</id><published>2009-10-18T17:50:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T15:21:58.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys Year 2 Day 54</title><content type='html'>Ever get that feeling when you see someone you like with someone else? I hate that feeling. It sucks. Reallyyy badly...it lingers around for a long time and just makes me feel down whenever I think about it. Whenever I laugh or feel happy again, the thought of it would come back and wipe out that smile on my face. It's not something I haven't experienced before. I wish I didn't have to see that today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I officially told my dad that I want to be a doctor. I'm now reconsidering what profession I want to go to because if I go to school far away from home, one of my parents would have to go along with me and that just causes a lot of problems for us in the family. It's complicated. So, I figured I'll study something else instead of Anesthesiology, which makes a heck of a lot of money and it pains me at the thought of letting go on that future salary of $300,000 a year *_* The medical school near my area doesn't have that profession in their academic area. They have internal medicine, family medicine, gynecology/obstetrics (eww), osteopathic manipulative medicine, orthopedic surgery, psychiatry &amp; behavior health, and surgery. I will not become a gynecologist/obstetrician! That just sounds gross, man. I'm considering internal medicine. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I complain way too much huh. -_-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/StuTyTI8qWI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/-E2Y2jIac70/s1600-h/chethai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/StuTyTI8qWI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/-E2Y2jIac70/s400/chethai.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394067471046846818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7303583293559653500?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7303583293559653500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7303583293559653500' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7303583293559653500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7303583293559653500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-51_18.html' title='The Days Without Guys Year 2 Day 54'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/StuTyTI8qWI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/-E2Y2jIac70/s72-c/chethai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3963436896694460347</id><published>2009-10-16T11:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T11:54:40.831-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 52</title><content type='html'>I need to stop my procrastinating habits. I really really need to stop. It's horrible. Any suggestions as to how I should stop?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo,&lt;br /&gt;The Che that will never finish her shit.&lt;br /&gt;Che Dau Xanh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-3963436896694460347?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3963436896694460347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3963436896694460347' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3963436896694460347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3963436896694460347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-52.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 52'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8568302609258352369</id><published>2009-10-15T19:48:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:07:38.842-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys Year 2 Day 51</title><content type='html'>Che Trai Cay forced me to post something. I don't know what to say. Oh wells. I only have 2 pictures of footie players, though since CTC wants to stare haha. They're currently my favorites. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/Ste4VAqDm-I/AAAAAAAAAb4/7wSFLV2B5K4/s1600-h/Kaka.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/Ste4VAqDm-I/AAAAAAAAAb4/7wSFLV2B5K4/s400/Kaka.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392981749892619234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I melt every time I see that picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/Ste1bJxTIuI/AAAAAAAAAbw/sYeabFntq58/s1600-h/benzema.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/Ste1bJxTIuI/AAAAAAAAAbw/sYeabFntq58/s400/benzema.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392978556883247842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karim Benzema&lt;br /&gt;Played for Lyon, but now plays for Real Madrid (eww) but I still love the guy.&lt;br /&gt;Plays for France national team as well, numero 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have a thing for #10 players. Messi, Totti, Benzema, Kaka, Cesc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UGH! I am so freaking lazy to blog right now. I just got home from a 4-hour chemistry lab class and I'm starving! Been at school since 9:30. Ugh. I feel terrible. On a happier note, tomorrow is FRIDAY! YAYYYY. I can't wait until the Barca vs. Valencia match on Saturday because I just saw on the news that Messi already came back to Barcelona, so he'll be playing. I just freaking love that guy to death even though he's quite hideous looking. But who cares. He's mad talented. I would totally date him if I could. :D Anywho. Still no guys for me, but there's this one guy, and well...Banh Xeo, Che Trai Cay, and Che Xinh Xa already knows about so there is no need for me to ramble on &amp; on about that. And I still think its stupid! Its not meant to be, nor was that a sign or whatever. O___o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/Ste49CiMrhI/AAAAAAAAAcA/RKyZcJHlkYU/s1600-h/chethai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/Ste49CiMrhI/AAAAAAAAAcA/RKyZcJHlkYU/s400/chethai.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392982437591297554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8568302609258352369?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8568302609258352369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8568302609258352369' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8568302609258352369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8568302609258352369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/che-trai-cay-forced-me-to-post.html' title='The Days Without Guys Year 2 Day 51'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/Ste4VAqDm-I/AAAAAAAAAb4/7wSFLV2B5K4/s72-c/Kaka.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2975754169683445289</id><published>2009-10-15T15:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T04:42:38.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 51</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;there's only so many people you can please in your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;the ones that you often let down,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;are the ones that are most important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;sure, they forgive you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;sure, they love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;sure, they will support your every action.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;surely, the guilt is always there on your part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;on the other hand, he said "good luck" to me before we took our midterm. sadly, his wish for me didn't go through at well. it probably got lost in another dimenstion. haha jkjk. he prolly did good though because the boy is one smart cookie :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-2975754169683445289?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2975754169683445289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2975754169683445289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2975754169683445289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2975754169683445289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-51.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 51'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8693146218414194928</id><published>2009-10-14T11:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T11:51:08.786-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 50</title><content type='html'>This week is just horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed my first class of the semester on Monday because I woke up late. My mind is all over the place. I'm sick. It's that time of month. I hate my grades this week with the exception of one. But even that good grade didn't make me happy at all. I don't know how to explain it. It's like, my days start shitty, but it usually ends nice. Dammnit, I'll just admit it. When I see him, it makes everything all better. All the shittiness of the day just goes away. Literally. I just become happy again. I don't know. I'm just angry at myself I guess. I can't focus. My body looks disgusting because I have not been working out due to being sick. I've been eating way too much. This week has been so bad that I had two bad coffee days. That's how horrible it is. I think I'm just being a big baby though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I know that things will get better, they always do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo,&lt;br /&gt;Che Dau Xanh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8693146218414194928?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8693146218414194928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8693146218414194928' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8693146218414194928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8693146218414194928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-50.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 50'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6682843976349574187</id><published>2009-10-13T12:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T13:13:51.612-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Du ma. Every time I try to log in, I always forget my password. And I still don't know who's who because you all have "che" in it. Is it your favorite che? Yesterday I went to an asian market and bought a cup of che. Haven't had that in a while.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, Chau's dad thought she and I were gay for each other because we are always doing stuff together. But we got it cleared out when Chau's mom called her and busted out "Do you like guys or girls?"&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, I got hit on by a girl. She asked me out but I shot her down. I wonder if she'll ever text me again. I mean, I would go out to eat with her, I like meeting new people and learning more about them. But anything else than that, then NO. I told a friend about this incident, and he laughed in my face and said I got the "gay vibe". This kind of incident isn't the first time. It has happened many times before. Lammmeee.&lt;br /&gt;Something about guys...I guess it's because no one is ever sure what the other person is thinking. But when you are interested in me, are you genuinely interested in me? Do you care what I have to say? Or are you looking for a rebound? Are you aiming to get laid because you haven't hit an ass in a while? Personally I don't care because I'm not the type of girl to give it to you that easily. I am skeptical. I don't rush. So if you're aiming for that kind of shit, it wouldn't work out between us. Nor am I looking for any one. I never do. Looking back, I had never waited or wanted someone with the exception of Johnny.&lt;br /&gt;Dude...I don't know how to end this post. It seems like there's always an insightful conclusion for reader's to ponder about...but I would greatly appreciate it if my landlord had wood flooring in our apartment instead lame ass carpet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6682843976349574187?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6682843976349574187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6682843976349574187' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6682843976349574187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6682843976349574187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/du-ma.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6470765420321664714</id><published>2009-10-11T18:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T19:36:23.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 47</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;You let the tears fall. You didn't try to control them. You were immune to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Maybe life should be so simple. Then you would be happy. Yes, only you would be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;We can't bring back what we use to have. Because it has all been an illusion. A simple deceiving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Happiness is only short lived if we don't fight for what we want. For the smiles upon our hearts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I can't go on by myself. But if you're not there with me, I'll bear the burden of humanity and dread on alone. And somewhere on that cold road, someone will reach out to my cold hand. A hand that you've never felt, a hand that once could have caressed you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I still can't understand my hesitation with you. The fear of asking for more. Of wanting what I can't have. Seeking what should have been mine. Yet even as I conquer myself, even if I am hurt fighting for you, this light of mine, has gone out. I'm not fighting for what I want anymore. Just the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;A final understanding. A revelation. The pieces of my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;We both lost. Yet I walked away with a sense of empowerment. Knowing that I tried, that I walked in with my eyes closed, but out with them wide open. I can see who you were, but who you are is someone I am done with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;You can stay in the circle we've built. A circle you've constructed to your liking, while I was just a guest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be one to make things easier for you. Let me set you free from "obligations" you don't want to fulfill. I won't scoff any longer. I won't make excuses for you from today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are again where we were before. Strangers in a crowd. No knowledge of one another. Our eyes will never meet again. Our presences will not linger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did we have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;It came out like a river once I let it out&lt;br /&gt;When I thought that I wouldn't know how&lt;br /&gt;Held onto it forever just pushing it down&lt;br /&gt;Felt so good to let go of it now&lt;br /&gt;Not wrapping this in ribbons&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't have to give a reason why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's NO SURPRISE I won't be here tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that I stayed till today&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing here in this heart left to borrow&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing here in this soul left to say&lt;br /&gt;Don't be surprised when we hate this tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;God know we tried to find an easier way&lt;br /&gt;Yeah you and I will be a tough act to follow&lt;br /&gt;But I know in time we'll find this was NO SURPRISE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;No Surprise, Daughtry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6470765420321664714?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6470765420321664714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6470765420321664714' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6470765420321664714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6470765420321664714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-47.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 47'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8080279985573920828</id><published>2009-10-10T20:01:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T20:08:01.324-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day Without Guys - Year 2 Day 46</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I feel like an emo kid, sitting in this lonely apartment that's completely silence. it's to the point where i can hear my own thoughts, it's rather creepy to me. i'm blasting the sound while watching this show called "the gioi vpop." it reminds me of vietnam, oh how i miss that place. i miss the love that i felt back there. i can't help it but cry everytime i call my family back in vietnam after hearing their voices. i really miss it, i miss how belonged i felt back there. i feel so out of place here, i look like this awkward child when i'm alone on campus. i wish my house was near campus so i could go back on the weekend, i just want to cry sometimes due to the loneliness. i have nothing to do beside homework or eat. i've eaten so much today just to keep me busy that it's disgusting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;tests are coming up; i HAVE to do better to make up for my horrible tests grade on my first exam. i'm scared that i won't be able to do better, that i'm going to fail my parents. i hate how nervous i get when i take tests that i constantly question myself and change my right answers to a wrong one. i will do better this time; i can do it! aja aja hwaiting! i must not get distracted this next 3 weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;ehh boy, where are you? the one that'll make me tingle on the inside? a slight wave movement from you will flicker my heart? i don't want a boyfriend but i just want to find someone that will make me smile when i see them. a one way crush will do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px; display: block; height: 118px;" alt="" src="http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f44/ewwitzsangi3/chetrai.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8080279985573920828?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8080279985573920828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8080279985573920828' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8080279985573920828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8080279985573920828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-without-guys-year-2-day-46.html' title='The Day Without Guys - Year 2 Day 46'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3902381669543248008</id><published>2009-10-09T11:54:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T21:44:58.758-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days without Guys - Year 2 Day 45</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ches, I love you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading my old entries. Boy, I sounded depressing. I felt bad for myself. But thanks for sticking with me. Reading those entries made me feel so so stupid. =\ I guess you just live life and you learn. Anyway, I'm typing this because I will be studying for the next hour or so with no distractions. I'm going to fail this test. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two best friends. They are like my coffee. I need them. I wouldn't know where I'd be without them both. I love them to death. But from time to time, I want them to realize that they are amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend #1: She's so great. So effin great. But sometimes, she does get a little crazy. She has so many family problems. And it sucks because I don't ever know what to do. I feel horrible. But I try to be there as much as I can. She's hating college right now, but I'm the one that's encouraging her that it'll be okay. All I want for her is to be truly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend #2: Where do I start with this one? She's so amazing. Always settling for less though. But she's still amazing. I want her to realize that she doesn't deserve the shit that others put her through. She deserves nothing but true happiness. All I can do is be there for her. I feel horrible for not being able to do anything. I feel horrible that I can just tell her that everything will be okay and that she has me because I'm not there with her physically. That really kills me. I just want her to know how beautiful, amazing, funny, witty, and everything in between she is. Goddamnit. She's so great. All I want for her is to be truly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are my two best friends. Don't they sound amazing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so lucky to have them. I really am. They deserve so much better. They are good people too. It's not fair that I am always happy and they are not. It's also hard to enjoy my happiness fully knowing that my two best friends are not. It's just not fair. I'm not that great of a person. I want to just give them my happiness. I want them to know what it feels like. I want them to just enjoy everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If happiness came in a box, that would be my gift to them this upcoming Christmas. These two girls deserve nothing, I mean, NOTHING, but the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until Next Time!&lt;br /&gt;Che Dau Xanh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-3902381669543248008?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3902381669543248008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3902381669543248008' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3902381669543248008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3902381669543248008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-45.html' title='The Days without Guys - Year 2 Day 45'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7709417222569118969</id><published>2009-10-06T14:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T14:39:55.722-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I don't know what to do any more. I came down here with a plan. At least I think I did...but what happened to the plan? Maybe there was never one in the first place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Why are some people better off than others? Why do some people hit the jack pot while others have to work to get where they want to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lately&lt;/span&gt;, why do I feel so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;melancholy&lt;/span&gt;? Trying to find a bit of happiness in the most simple of things is hardly do able. My mind is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unfocused&lt;/span&gt; and is always wondering off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Funny, I thought moving down here would give me a break. But I'm hardly getting a break. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I don't know what to do anymore. I really don't. This morning I thought "What's the point?" How sad...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7709417222569118969?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7709417222569118969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7709417222569118969' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7709417222569118969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7709417222569118969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dont-know-what-to-do-any-more.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-68591713572302678</id><published>2009-10-05T12:07:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T18:03:53.462-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 41</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Happiness:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;is a state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I've never felt true happiness before in my life. But now, I think I have reached the point of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;over happiness&lt;/span&gt;. Is that even possible? I've discovered that it can be possible. Ches, you just have to find happiness in what you enjoy most. Don't let the little things make you unhappy. Being happy is a pretty damn good feeling. I will tell my story now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After my breakup with my ex, I made a date for myself to get better. Made a date for myself to become myself again and let me find who I am again. Because 1. crying causes wrinkles, 2. wet pillows are hard to sleep on and 3. your eyes begin to hurt. On that day, I stopped crying. I stopped caring. On that day, I was on my journey to find true happiness. And I would say that my luck has been so great lately that it didn't take long for me to find my happiness. I tried to find a little joy in everything. Even trying to find joy in understanding a math problem or understanding an accounting problem. I began to give more time to my friends both near and afar. I began to become a good student again. And then..I met my rabbit's foot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In the midst of me recovering, I met my lucky charm, the skim milk to my coffee, I met my happiness in real life. I don't even know where to begin. Or how I should begin. I have never felt this way before. I have never been this happy. Ever. Even problems that were hard for me to deal with before are easier to deal with now. Within seconds of talking to him, I am back to my normal laughing self. I have never met somebody that has made me laugh so much and is so caring at the same time. I like who I've become with him. I like who I am now. I like that I can sing in front of him and not care. I love that I can trust him. I love that he's sincere. I love the look in his eyes when he just looks at me. I just..love him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Loving him has brought me to tears. I can't even explain it. It's a great feeling. Ches, don't dwell on trying to find happiness, we're all good people so the happiness will happen soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Until Next Time!,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Che Dau Xanh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-68591713572302678?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/68591713572302678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=68591713572302678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/68591713572302678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/68591713572302678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-41.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 41'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4350739924315597221</id><published>2009-10-02T01:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T02:07:52.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 38</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;Emotions. The depth of our soul. How can we function without it. Or can we? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;The days that sweep by me, gray in the light, and dim at night. I can't find a way out. To be free from feeling. Then again, I fear, who will I be then, if I can't feel? Someone better off? Or someone, with a soul? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;Every essences of our time, the contours of our breaths, it reeks of madden life. Bleak existence is so easy. To live day by day, focused on the clouds, and not the faces that descend upon our weak beings. Clouds that fleet by, no real purpose, drifting through and through. Not having to measure the truth or worse, the lies. To breathe without a hitch in your throat, fearing the worst to come. To blink unconsciously, because there is nothing troubling your thoughts. How one can't remember. Not being able to recall the pain, the memories that bring down our walls. Crushing our dreams, with no after thought. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;Forget being real. I can live without tears. Live without needs and wants. Without dreams. I don't need to be weigh down by my own emotions. This damn has broken and the process of repairing is torturing me. Waiting day by day for emotions to harden, for the feelings to drift away, like strangers, we'll nod our greetings when put in the same room, but neither will have an effect on the other. We will remain strangers, the heart and the brain. Some people can juggle both.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;This person needs to let go of the heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-4350739924315597221?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4350739924315597221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4350739924315597221' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4350739924315597221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4350739924315597221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/10/days-without-guys-year-2-day-38.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 38'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2501980430050921304</id><published>2009-09-14T22:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T03:54:43.400-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 20</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;AH, how could i forget about this blog? the only place where one can let go of the blouders that's holding them back from expressing their true emotions, in fear that it'll hurt somebody else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;i've always considered myself to be a klutz but it's okay. i've learn to live with it. being a klutz and what others would call stupid go hand in hand. i normally try to brush off the words of others because afterall, it's just words right? actually, it's stings like having thousands of needles being pressed against your soft and fragile heart. it's a direct KO. no use trying to resist it. seriously, there's only so much that this balloon can take in before it explodes. i'm human too, i have feelings. would someone consider them for once? what makes a person better than another? literacy and intelligience varies. do you think that i want to be slower than others? do you think i find pleasure at people laughing at me, not with me? i wish i had close friends here. afterall, at the end of the day, i'm the one sitting in my room, crying to myself. i'm tired of being so helpless that i have to result to tears? what are tears going to do for me? it shows me that i am a weakling that can't take a little "joke". what are jokes when you're always the one that's being targeted? it's saddening when you realize that you end up "dissing" yourself so they don't have the chance to do it first. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;i don't even know what else to say. i feel so mellow and confused about myself and my abilities. what can i do right? since apparently boiling banh bot loc is clearly not my strong point. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003300;"&gt;i'll be fine tomorrow. it just gets awfully lonely here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 118px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f44/ewwitzsangi3/chetrai.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-2501980430050921304?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2501980430050921304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2501980430050921304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2501980430050921304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2501980430050921304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/09/days-without-guys-year-2-day-20.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 2 Day 20'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-1575764405408064944</id><published>2009-08-03T12:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T17:29:18.714-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 341</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Believing is one thing, and reality is another.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I've been struggling for the past few months. Constantly choosing between two rocks. The only thing I wanted was to crawl away from both these rocks to find shore. A haven to wrap around me. But that haven is so out of reach, my life boat is lost among the chaos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;The rocks I know I have to face to overcome it all. But in my mind, running away is the easiest way out. But I can't run far, I can't run forever. They both weigh so much to me, but yet, they both don't know how much they're hurting me. I can't take both rocks with me, apparently. I don't want that option. Why do I have to abandon one or the other. They both mean so much to me, but I can't ever have what I want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;My life boat, always there to take me away from the pain. Fighting along my side to help me reach my haven. But haven seems a distant away. We're paddling and all we see is sea around. I have to not depend on my boat and work for what I want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;And I try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;But this. Everything. I'm becoming someone new. Evolving and I don't know how to deal with anything. I can't brush it off anymore. I have to grow up now. Even as I reach the shores of haven, it's not what I expect of it. I am still struggling to understand what I have gotten myself into. It's been so long that I have gone without happiness of my own, I can't fathom what little is given to me. I am so desperate to find happiness, I am not willing to let it breathe on it's on. But I need to understand that everything takes time. I can't just suddenly have demands that I have neglected. And so, haven can't help me if I am not absolute with it. But how can I, when being in this strange place is enough to scare me back into my shell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Rocks. Don't let go of either. They're not really rocks, as they pretend to me. They're sand. They can be pact tightly against one another, but they have to stay strong to keep it together against the waves. I can't always be there to patch up the castle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Boat. Always by my side. Riding through thick and thin. Though there are wear and tears, you're still special and one day, you won't have to work so hard. I won't have to piggy off you to find my happiness, for you to find yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Haven. I'm lost. Will I find what I'm looking for in you? Can I depend on you to provide for me what I need. A place to run from the world and be safe? Then why am I still so scared of you. Scared that I'll wake up to find I have been deceiving myself all along. There is no haven. Only what I close my eyes to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;---------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ah, the metaphors. It was nice to let things out. And yet, I'm still back at this blog. Some vacation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-1575764405408064944?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/1575764405408064944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=1575764405408064944' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1575764405408064944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1575764405408064944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/08/days-without-guys-year-1-day-341.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 341'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7292616687043540847</id><published>2009-06-01T14:35:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T11:34:59.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys Year 1 Day 278</title><content type='html'>Let me start this out by asking a question. Do you Che`s like it when a guy hits on you? Whether its some random guy, your best friend, a classmate, co-worker, etc. I absolutely hate it. Sure, he wants to get to know me, cua me, etc. but it makes me hate it more rather than feel special or whatever the heo. O_o I prefer the friendly chatters and slowly developing the friendship rather than someone hitting on me right off the bat. Its just weird. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Creepy&lt;/span&gt;. Maybe I don't like guys who are straightforward and...initiative? lol. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I warn ya, if you don't understand/don't care about all these footie (soccer) junk and me being a footie fanatic, then skip it RIGHT NOW! Read about other stuff I wrote that you actually understand. haha. :]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, dudes! My team won the UEFA Champions League! OMGAH. I swear I memorized that match since I saw it about 3 or 4 times. -_- I've never been any happier in my life, and of course I get to say "in yo face" to people I know who support Manchester United. =P that's probably the 2nd best thing about it. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trophy awarded to the new champion - &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;F&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new man is jersey numero uh...diez. Did I spell that right? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10&lt;/span&gt;, far left. Okie, he's sorta ugly but man...that dude is so good and his talent is to DIE for...AND he's only 2 years older than me! I bet he's gonna win the player of the year award. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SiQkIQQn8WI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/atLDKbhq8wQ/s1600-h/FCB2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SiQkIQQn8WI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/atLDKbhq8wQ/s400/FCB2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342434782190498146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAH! FIFA 2009 South Africa Confederations Cup coming up on June 14th. Its not like anyone really gives a damn about this, but the teams include: USA, Brazil, Spain, Italy, Iraq, Egypt, South Africa, and New Zealand. I bet..., no I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;KNOW&lt;/span&gt; that Brazil, Spain, and Italy will kick the other's ass. :D I just can't wait to watch my &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Spanish lovers&lt;/span&gt; play. Ahh, how beautiful that will be. Hot men running around for 90 minutes. ^^ I hope &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Kaka&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Robinho&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pato&lt;/span&gt; (Brazil) will play too. That will make the Brazil team complete and worthwhile to watch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, I can talk endlessly about soccer!!! HAHA. Right now I'm going gah-gah over this Italian player, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Alessandro Del Piero&lt;/span&gt;. OMGAH. *_* He's 34 years old, and he plays for Juvie...uh, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Juventus FC&lt;/span&gt;, that is. So fiooneee. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone ever told you that you are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;beautiful inside and out&lt;/span&gt;? I never really thought about that until recently. First of all, though, what makes a person beautiful? Apperances, of course and personality. But every culture has its own concept of defining beauty. Some people are beautiful, apperance wise, but have an ugly personality. I once saw bits and pieces of the TV show &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;True Beauty&lt;/span&gt;. It makes me laugh because those people are so self-centered and arrogant, and they're not really that beautiful or handsome. -_- I've seen people who are even more beautiful/good looking than them! Anywho, the show is about finding someone who is truly beautiful, both on the inside and out... Heh, that eliminates a lot of people huh? -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost cried when I saw this video. Of course the storyline isn't very original, but oh my...the singer is incredibly handsome and talented. &lt;3 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RQ7_qIwO6A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah. Sorry. Boring post. Same old same old for me. No guys, no problem. :] Wait, am I the only one who feels this way? Che Xinh Xa seems so hate it. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, WOMAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SiQpIoKNO0I/AAAAAAAAAbg/T_s8bcNyP8w/s1600-h/chethai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SiQpIoKNO0I/AAAAAAAAAbg/T_s8bcNyP8w/s400/chethai.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342440286164171586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7292616687043540847?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7292616687043540847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7292616687043540847' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7292616687043540847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7292616687043540847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/06/days-without-guys-year-1-day.html' title='The Days Without Guys Year 1 Day 278'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SiQkIQQn8WI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/atLDKbhq8wQ/s72-c/FCB2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2466099872824021189</id><published>2009-05-13T14:56:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T15:14:08.554-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 259</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;With little time to spare, memories come and go. Can you say you won't regret waking the next morning to find the sun has set and gone? To blink and let all pass you gone? Dream a dark pit with void?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I listen as the water beats on the rocks. Luminous life floats on by. Waiting for savor. How little turns my head. Bound by the sea of light, I search from nowhere. A distance cry. Startling life. Beats shrill the night. I wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;No idea what I just wrote. Nonsense. Entirely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;When I thought all is calm, and that I had found sanctuary, the tables are turned on me. Now I have no clue. Decisions decisions. Will my dreams get crushed and the past haunt me? I have yet to answer. But time does not wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;The days without guys. "When you're having fun, time flies". what BS. When you're having "fun", it's only to set you up for disappointment. I don't need fun, I need satisfaction. At least then I know it isn't pseudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Thinking about it gives me closure, knowing that I am still alive, and not buried under the loneliness. But thoughts come with pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Lets translate all of the above into english why don't we?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Am I sick of being single? Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;What do I plan on doing about it? Nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Why not, you idiot? Because good things come to those who wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;BULLSHIT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;But even if I don't agree, I am still not going to do anything to change it, because I am too afraid of jinxing myself. What I do need to do is stop being so picky. Or so everybody keeps telling me. Am I so picky? I think not. I just happen to not find anyone that satisfy me. Brings us back to the point that yes, I can have fun with someone, but at the end of the day, I am not satisfied. So what is the outcome?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;The continuation of this blog. -_-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-2466099872824021189?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2466099872824021189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2466099872824021189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2466099872824021189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2466099872824021189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/05/days-without-guys-year-1-day-259.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 259'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-1330237096605999510</id><published>2009-04-13T12:36:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T14:29:18.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 229</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;We have memories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;They haunt us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;They bring tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;They torment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;They bring clouds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;They delude us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;They age us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;They're wonders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;In each of us, we obtain mass thoughts and opinions that form a memory box. To obtain this box, we have to live. Live and let live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I wish I could live in my memories. Or better yet, live in my dreams. Where anything could happen, and nothing could hurt me. Where my desires and needs are never dash. I can reach beyond my limits and see what is in front of me. I want to stop reaching for what's not there. The disappointment of being hopeful. Ah the pain. I reach into my heart and pull out air. There is nothing there. Wait, there is something there. A preset of challenges. Could I doubt myself any further? To see deeper into myself. I need to see to believe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Dimming lights should mean a new scene. A change of scene. A new beginning. My lights go out one by one, dragging the agony days after days, months after months. The scene is not over until all my lights are out. I want a new beginning. To start afresh from my wrongs. But there's no escape. I have to pay for my deeds. Whistles sound from afar. But never is it my train.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-1330237096605999510?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/1330237096605999510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=1330237096605999510' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1330237096605999510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1330237096605999510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/04/days-without-guys-year-1-day-229.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 229'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-481404063873177701</id><published>2009-02-23T20:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T20:22:38.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 180</title><content type='html'>I haven't been feeling like myself lately. I don't know why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-481404063873177701?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/481404063873177701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=481404063873177701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/481404063873177701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/481404063873177701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/02/days-without-guys-year-1-day-180.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 180'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5450516478524707657</id><published>2009-02-14T16:24:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T15:26:11.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 171</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Hello lovely Ches. I felt like posting but I have nothing to write about. Sooo here's something about me that you might be interested in reading. lol. I think I'm not a very emotional person. Whenever I watch sad movies or whatever I DON'T CRY. I find it pretty sad but it doesn't make me cry. Lovey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dovey&lt;/span&gt; stuff can't make me cry that easily. Same goes to death of a loved one, or someone I know. I don't cry about that either. I just couldn't. So, the question is, am I cold hearted? O.o I just don't cry. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only people in the entire universe that I feel sorry for are the "invisible children" in Africa, as well as orphaned children and old, sick people around the world. I don't cry when I watch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;footages&lt;/span&gt; about them, but I do feel &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;helpless&lt;/span&gt;. Like, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I feel that I haven't done anything to help them but sit here and watch&lt;/span&gt;. *sigh* So, in the future when I have a stable career &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm making it my p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ersonal mission to go out there and help these people in any way I can, and for as long as I am able to.&lt;/span&gt; =D On Friday in class we watched that film "Invisible Children" again in class (the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; time that I saw it), and this girl in my class started sobbing uncontrollably. I sat there and thought wow, she's crying because of that and it hardly created any effect on me except for the fact that I feel helpless. The first time that I saw it I didn't cry either. So yeah, to sum it up: I am &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; a very emotional person. I don't cry that easily. I'm "manly", if you must put it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.invisiblechildren.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.invisiblechildren.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check it out. It won't hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EDIT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/Kristy_2004/villavday09guh5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/Kristy_2004/villavday09guh5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OMG!!!&lt;/span&gt;♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ That's my man, dude. haha. I fell in love with him when I watched the world cup in 2006. Love his hair. =D&lt;br /&gt;I had to resize it since the original is like GINORMOUS and all in your face. haha. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SZc9Y3bWhII/AAAAAAAAAbA/wA0vFy-ndoY/s1600-h/share.php.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SZc9Y3bWhII/AAAAAAAAAbA/wA0vFy-ndoY/s400/share.php.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302774583656875138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5450516478524707657?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5450516478524707657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5450516478524707657' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5450516478524707657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5450516478524707657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/02/days-without-guys-year-1-day.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 171'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SZc9Y3bWhII/AAAAAAAAAbA/wA0vFy-ndoY/s72-c/share.php.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4371029243781742337</id><published>2009-02-14T04:58:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T03:15:29.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 171</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;Hello my dearest ches. Guess what day is it today?  Single awareness day. (I really didn't know until Che Xinh Xa told me. lol.) AKA! Valentines!  The day when most couple get together and express their love while the rest of us sit and watch! Oh the pain! At least Che Thai is being brave this year and got pass the point of bitterness. I, on the hand, have not. LOL. I don't really feel THAT sad about it because, I know my prince will come one day and brings me the gifts that I always envy of other girls that are in a relationship. It'll be a blue moon when that happens though ='[. I didn't even have anyone be my valentine this year or asked, even if it's jokingly. BOO! *tears* It's probably because I don't really talk to any guys nowadays or I've lost all attraction to the opposite sex. Nah, I probably never even have any -_-' Anyways, I have given up until a cute guy comes my way *wink wink* haha jkjk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying your best to make the one you like smile.&lt;br /&gt;That smile means the world to you.&lt;br /&gt;The world revolves around them on this special day.&lt;br /&gt;When will I, be able to have that smile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SZaiXBZNx8I/AAAAAAAAAKI/DAj-AmsG930/s1600-h/chetrai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SZaiXBZNx8I/AAAAAAAAAKI/DAj-AmsG930/s400/chetrai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302604127670224834" 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/7275779486869169368-4371029243781742337?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4371029243781742337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4371029243781742337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4371029243781742337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4371029243781742337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/02/days-without-guys-year-1-day-171.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 171'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SZaiXBZNx8I/AAAAAAAAAKI/DAj-AmsG930/s72-c/chetrai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2297503601911739757</id><published>2009-02-10T13:59:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T15:29:45.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 167</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;This year I feel completely different. I don't hate Valentines Day anymore. In fact, I just feel nothing. I don't feel lonely or depressed because I don't have a guy. I just feel NORMAL. And no I don't want a guy. So yeah, totally opposite of what Che Xinh Xa is feeling. *sigh* 1st test for Sociology is on Thursday. I've been reading every goddamn assigned chapter and take notes, and paid attention to lectures instead of sitting there wondering what time it is so I can go home and eat. haha. I feel quite &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;proud of myself, actually. I'm glad that my goal has good progress so far. I don't know but I feel scared of this test. Even though I studied and read all the materials, I feel uncertain about it. I would die if I get a C or below after all the work I put into. You know that sometimes happens, and UGH...that would suck. So blah blah blah. I have to go to class now. I'll continue this entry after I get back...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Okay. We didn't have class. The freaking teacher didn't even let us notice ahead of time. I went to the library and did my homework. Still not done reading, though. Its endless. -_-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;So, my guy left. I have no idea where he went. Now its all so boring because I no longer feel happy or excited whenever I go to that class. Its just whatever. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I think I like my little nephew more than my niece. I don't know, but I just find him cuter and I always like to hug him and squeeze him to death. haha. And kiss him, and I'd make him kiss me on my cheeks like 20 times until he gets annoyed. haha He's soo freaking cute. I like my niece too. She's so girly. But...I don't know. I guess we have a different bond or something? O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll bet she's beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That girl he talks about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And she's got everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That I have to live without&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; ...&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; He's all I think about at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She better hold him tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Give him all her love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Look in those beautiful eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So I drive home alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; As I turn out the light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I'll put his picture down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And maybe get some sleep tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Such a beautiful song. It used to describe how I feel about a certain person. Only, I'm not that stalker-ish to have his picture and look at it every night. O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SZnMqau2vjI/AAAAAAAAAbI/4afjpj5IBqA/s1600-h/share.php.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SZnMqau2vjI/AAAAAAAAAbI/4afjpj5IBqA/s400/share.php.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303495065307889202" 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/7275779486869169368-2297503601911739757?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2297503601911739757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2297503601911739757' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2297503601911739757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2297503601911739757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-year-i-feel-completely-different.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 167'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SZnMqau2vjI/AAAAAAAAAbI/4afjpj5IBqA/s72-c/share.php.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5716886382044689679</id><published>2009-02-05T12:05:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T21:52:34.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 162</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;ah. How happy I am to come to this blog and find that somebody has blogged =] it shows I am not the only one doomed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;-sigh- I don't know why I torture myself so. Seeing people all lovely dovey with one another, it makes me happy, yet at the same time, depressed. Because I want that for myself. But I don't have it. I try to find it so hard, that when I do see potential, I tend to scare it away. Or my patience doesn't withhold in time and I lose interest. Sure, I still would like for the happy days to come, but they're no longer my top priority. Which sucks, cause that means in the long run, I will lose interest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I was reading on soompi about bf and gf groping on one another, and somehow, I'm jealous of these girls being molested at such a young age. LOL that's sick right. LOL no, I just miss the intimacy that a relationship provides you. Being able to have someone to turn to, and I dunno, feel them up. It's so depressing, an hour later, I'm reading the make out session thread, and it makes me all teary. WHY WHY WHY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;3 weeks into school, and yet, I can say, I have improved myself. I do put in the effort to study and make ends meet. I think with motivation behind you, it does make the mind aware and more willing. =/ make much sense? Going to class and sitting there, I do try to take in what is being said. But seriously, 3 presentations due within the month? KILL ME NOW! And what makes it worst, they're all group projects.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ah, that horrid day is just around the corner. Even though I'm not the only one on this boat, having to sit on it for so long, I am getting more weak and weak by the minute to uphold the stone-i don'tcare-face look. I walk into stores and departments and all I see are hearts and red and pink and it's sickening. like seriously, GET OVER IT. =P &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I need a new hobby. Or or, my hobby can be studying, but it wouldn't last long. I'm over my jig saw puzzle days (though they will come back), I can't cook, I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't be a cam-whore all day, so what's left? Studying. I really never thought it was possible, but I am over my reading-obsession days. I would constantly be sitting anywhere with a book and just evolve into it, but now, I only pick it up when I'm doing business. =/ But I'm glad I had those days (even if it cost me a fortune) cause now I can actually pick up a text book and read it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;So I'm sitting here in the PSY experiment building, well, it's not all designated for PSY experiments, but a good number of the rooms are for such. Waiting for an empty computer to finish my last hour and a half of my experiment. Playing "shoot the tank". Okay, that's not what's it called, but thats all you do! I sit there for over an hour, and it is timed, killing 2-3 tanks before getting killed. 10 minutes into the game and I'm already sick of it, but I can't do much about that but keep playing. Yesterday, I devised a devious plan that got the other two tanks trapped into a corner with my own when I ran out of fuel to do anything. I thought I was home free, like, "OH YEAH, I out smarted you. I win. let me go home", but no, the tech dude moniter came over and made me self-destruct myself. =/ Another 20 minutes into the game, and I'm dying like hell. Oh wells, at least today was my last day, and I was paid $20 for it, surprise surprise. (CHA-CHING). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;So much that needs to be done, sigh, I will end this post with a few short lines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Time isn't enough,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Time isn't corrupt,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Time isn't critical,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Time is only forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5716886382044689679?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5716886382044689679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5716886382044689679' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5716886382044689679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5716886382044689679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/02/days-without-guys-year-1-day-162.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 162'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7071573449884904271</id><published>2009-01-22T20:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T22:23:27.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 148</title><content type='html'>I just feel so helpless right now. I'm just not happy. I'm always having to be the stronger one. The one to take the punches when everybody wants to duck. I'm a strong person. I know that. But I can only take so much. I keep everything to myself because I don't want any problems. I don't want to cause anybody to hurt because of me. Today, somebody told me that I could be really naive sometimes. I'm sorry that I can't be mature all the time. I'm just not that type and you should've known that by now. But when you told me that, did I say anything? Of course not. Because I know that you're going through a rough time. And you think I'm not? Do you think that everything is perfect for me? Although I'm feeling like this, I'll still take your punches, because I know that I love you. &lt;/3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7071573449884904271?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7071573449884904271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7071573449884904271' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7071573449884904271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7071573449884904271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/01/days-without-guys-year-1-day-148.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 148'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2503940660614669556</id><published>2009-01-20T16:44:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T09:39:17.847-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 146</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I just got back from my Sociology class. I have to admit, I love that class because the teacher is funny. He teaches us but he also tells us funny stories and experiences that he had. It's awesome. :] So this semester, I have to do presentations at the end of the semester for all of my classes except math! I'm soo nervous, dude. I'm not so used to that, and plus I'm uber shy and quiet. GRR...Gotta get out of this shell! Sometimes I hate myself because I'm so introvertive, shy, quiet, blushes easily, etc. -___-  -Sigh-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Anyways I'm not here to talk about that. I feel so foolish today. Just a simple gesture but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;made me smile like a mad woman. In fact, I'm smiling as I type this. haha. I don't want to go into details about this since someone can read it. O.O Oh gosh, I've been through that before in high school and it was soo embarassing I just wanted to die thinking about it. Did I tell you he has gorgeous eyes?! They're like blue and greenish. AHH!! haha :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Oh yes I wore the yellow heart earings that Che Trai Cay gave me for Christmas today. I love it! You know how I always have this low self esteem thing? Well, I actually feel pretty today even though I didn't dress up or anything. hehe. ^_^ yay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SXZIfoIu9WI/AAAAAAAAAa4/13XJuluttK8/s1600-h/share.php"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SXZIfoIu9WI/AAAAAAAAAa4/13XJuluttK8/s400/share.php" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293498120207791458" 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/7275779486869169368-2503940660614669556?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2503940660614669556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2503940660614669556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2503940660614669556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2503940660614669556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-just-got-back-from-my-sociology-class.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 146'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SXZIfoIu9WI/AAAAAAAAAa4/13XJuluttK8/s72-c/share.php' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6154840248791322698</id><published>2009-01-15T14:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:04:12.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah.</title><content type='html'>This week was midterm week. And I woke up late every single day of the week. What the hell. So, this morning, I got up really late and I feel really bad for my friend because she waited outside for 15 minutes in the freezing cold! I could not hear my phone ring, at all. And it's just stressful. I'm missing club today. I feel like I haven't been there as much as I should have. We're supposed to go over fire-safety so we can teach little kids today. I'm president and I'm not even there. I hate that. I don't think I deserve the title of being the president of clubs. To add on to this crap, I am gaining weight by the second. I eat and eat. But I don't have time to work it off. I just run in gym everyday but that's not enough. I've been waking up too late to work out. And I have to study at night, so, I can't work out. I hope I can begin working out more seriously next week. But I doubt that. I just hate this year so much. Senior year is supposedly supposed to be the best year. But it is not at all because:&lt;br /&gt;a]We have new administrators at the school and they're making life hell.&lt;br /&gt;b]I'm not as motivated as I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;c]No time to work out.&lt;br /&gt;d]No money.&lt;br /&gt;My new years resolution for this year was to stay fit. Hopefully I can keep it alive. I am determined to make myself healthier. Starting next week. It will be a whole new start for me. I'm excited. How about you guys? What are your New Years Resolutions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo, with all my love,&lt;br /&gt;Lan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6154840248791322698?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6154840248791322698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6154840248791322698' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6154840248791322698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6154840248791322698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/01/blah.html' title='Blah.'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4335452297863003198</id><published>2009-01-14T02:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T02:55:46.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The LAN feeling hopeless. surprised?</title><content type='html'>You guys, I feel so hopeless sometimes. I feel like I'm the type of person that will say the wrong things 99.9% of the time. I'm so tired of everything. School is biting me in the ass. And my boyfriend isn't making it any better. Sometimes, I feel as if he doesn't understand where I'm coming from. Sometimes, I take things too lightly or say the wrong things. I can't help it. That's how I am. But he always expects me to be perfect. I cannot do that. Don't get me wrong. I love this kid so much. I love him so so much. But he'll never understand. I don't think a person can understand how much you love them because you're not them. It's frustrating. And I PMS. I'm a fucking girl. I have my weeks. For example, you guys know that I'm a private person. I don't talk about it a lot because that's not how I am. He just assumes that I never understand anything. But when HE'S the one that NEVER understands me. Even if he tried. But you guys, I don't know why. I love him so much. He doesn't treat me badly. I do say the wrong things a lot. And i'm too irrational. I don't know. With this. And school. I don't know what to do anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-4335452297863003198?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4335452297863003198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4335452297863003198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4335452297863003198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4335452297863003198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/01/lan-feeling-hopeless-surprised.html' title='The LAN feeling hopeless. surprised?'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3737837275600593193</id><published>2009-01-11T18:47:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T04:47:40.752-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 137</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;I'll learn to not be a fool again :) I think through all of this. I've grown to really detest people. It's like I'm trying to hate them. Somehow, this is going to make me feel all better. It's better to lock away the heart then put it out in the open the suffer through the rain, the snow, the hail, and the heartbreak. NO MORE FOR THIS CHE! Blah blah blah! I'll never be the same again. BOOO!!! I've grown to realize that this world is full of nasty people! BOOGARS! They are like boogars! Nasty and evil because boogars clog up people's nose; they clog up people heart! It's a hard knock life. There are days when I don't even want to pretend that this whole thing never happened, that it was all a big dream. I want to slap myself across the face and yelling as loud as I can.. "STUPID FOOL! IT'S OVER! FACE IT! WHY DO YOU CHOSE TO HURT YOURSELF OVER SOMEONE WHO PROBABLY COULD MOVE ON IN AN INSTANT! WHY WHY! WAE WAE WAE?!?" I thought i should add some Korean words in there to make it more dramatic... since afterall i'm "such a drama queen." HA! I'm sorry that my values and the things that effect me are not the same for you. You big JERK. I wonder why I still care for his well beings. ha ha ha! UGH! Is there anymore things that I should know? Anyone more secrets that would kill my little soul even more?! I'm sure there's a lot. However, I should restrain myself from finding out because I don't need to know anymore things. I'm already torn as it is. It's funny. I think I'm okay now but I still get carried away when  I start talking about this kind of stuff. Maybe, it's because I never got the chance to yell out my anger or to slap that jerk across the face. Like that song "Like getting hit by a bullet" by Baek Ji Young. I'll wake up, brush my teeth, and get dress in the morning when the clock hits 7 AM. I'll go on living my life.. because that's what a break up means. It means you have to keep going. No matter how deep the cut is, the more you try to live wondering and indulging yourself toward something that's more than likely NOT going to happen, the more pain you'll be in. Let's not blame this on one person or the next that would be even more hurtful.. I'm not going to fall for words so easily anymore. This time.. sweet words isn't going to cut it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SWqGq5NYBXI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/6B2m6LV-rDE/s1600-h/chetrai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SWqGq5NYBXI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/6B2m6LV-rDE/s400/chetrai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290188783769617778" 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/7275779486869169368-3737837275600593193?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3737837275600593193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3737837275600593193' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3737837275600593193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3737837275600593193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/01/days-without-guys-year-1-day-137.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 137'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SWqGq5NYBXI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/6B2m6LV-rDE/s72-c/chetrai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-821371039257549919</id><published>2009-01-11T14:29:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T09:39:47.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 137</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Yes, I've been neglecting this blog is because I'm lazy. I had a whole month plus of winter break, which will end soon. I'm going to be soo sad. haha. Well, I'm going to start working hard this semester to raise my GPA. Its not a bad, but I definitely think I can reach a 4.0 if I work hard enough!! The first semester of college wasn't as bad as everyone said it would, although I didn't even try.  I'm starting to feel afraid of the future...like you know, having to grow up and everything. I've already decided that I want to go to med school but my parents wants me to go into pharmacy or nursing because it won't take a long ass time like doctors do. Seriously, man. wtf. they said that they don't want me to work because they are afraid that i'll neglect my schooling, and now they want me to rush it so i can work and make money?! argh. O.o so, whatever. i'm still sticking to my plans of going to med school and study anesthesiology.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;oh yeah, and i gotta finish everything before i turn 30. ^_^ soo, just...10 more years to go. O.O  when i have enough money i'm gonna go live in europe. hehe.  that's one of my dreams, or plans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;i love this flower! its called &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;plumeria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;there are other colors too, but i only like the white ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SWpMWM0jr_I/AAAAAAAAAao/rkQs6CEDVYU/s1600-h/whiteplumeria.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SWpMWM0jr_I/AAAAAAAAAao/rkQs6CEDVYU/s400/whiteplumeria.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290124656582569970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ehh, boring post, i know. -_- but i have nothing to say! haha. maybe next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SWpPrzxvDmI/AAAAAAAAAaw/CNGTE_5vgE4/s1600-h/vy839l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SWpPrzxvDmI/AAAAAAAAAaw/CNGTE_5vgE4/s400/vy839l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290128326351851106" 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/7275779486869169368-821371039257549919?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/821371039257549919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=821371039257549919' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/821371039257549919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/821371039257549919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2009/01/uh-say-what.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 137'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SWpMWM0jr_I/AAAAAAAAAao/rkQs6CEDVYU/s72-c/whiteplumeria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4466622454761539520</id><published>2008-12-29T11:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T11:49:06.908-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 124</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Ah Ches', tell me the reason you're not blogging is because you've been lazy, and not cause you don't have these kind of days any longer. -sigh- but I am happy you were able to leave these days behind. LOL &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;I wonder, those that do read this blog, obviously besides ourselves, have you figured out whose who yet? Well, yeah you won't know EVERYONE, but can you identify with your friend Che? Now I did say something about renovating this place and revealing each of us, but boy have I lied to you. LOL I've either been too busy or too lazy to do anything. And since it's the winter break already, and I still have a long time to go before school starts, I just might do something about that. Will anyone be surprised when the mystery is unraveled? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;The first semester of being a fish in the big college world wasn't as stressed as I thought it to be, but it wasn't a breeze either. You'd think, without guys in my life, I'd be aceing my classes, but boy are you in for a surprise. Heck, I didn't fail, but I didn't do so good either. =/ But that's over with and I have a full spring semester to redeem that, which I have to, or else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Since the break has started, I find my time preoccupied constantly. The hours that I get to sleep seem like a quick nap then I'm back up and about. Going here and there, doing this and that, oh well, it all serves its purpose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Into the blog, what am I being challenged with these days? Being original. Or am I? ah, do you Che know what's funny? We never exactly comment on each other's blog, when we should've, just as a blog to be, we converse. Oh well, since we never started that trend, no need to cry over spilled milk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;When you're starting something new, is it easy to forget about the past? Or should you ignore it and hope it never comes back to bite you in the ass? I don't know what to think. I mean, it's not my past, but what if it's my future? Sure I have my own "dark" past, but I doubt it's a big matter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Okay, so none of those paragraphs made much sense, but let me tell you another revelation I just had. For me, I find that I never blog about "real" prospects, only little icky things. LOL I hope you understand my meaning there, otherwise =]. I mean, I could go into gross details, but I think I will save that for when this blog becomes "The Days &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;WITH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt; Guys". Do we all really want that day to come? ah shucks, we'll just have to wait and see, who knows, that could be years down the line, not a tomorrow thing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;I am really pacing myself here. I took Lan's advice to "go with the flow and take it slow(did you say the slow part...argg)" and I think it's a good idea, but Lan, if this fails, you are sooooo getting it. LOL I have to weave my web to catch the bait, and in this case, it's Cuc. lol inside joke, but but, it might be a public joke soon ;] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Oh well, I really have nothing more to say, except I need more sleep than 4 hours, so back to bed for me. My brain is scrambled, not a good thing is it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Before I end it, I hope you feel better Che Trai Cay =) we all love you and only want the best for you. You're an amazing individual and I believe I'm speaking for all of us when I say I am grateful to have met you and be able to become a friend that you can open to and know that we will always be here for you, no matter what. Anyone that can't see the beautiful you does not deserve to be your friend or otherwise. Don't change for anyone, you adorable cookie you. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-4466622454761539520?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4466622454761539520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4466622454761539520' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4466622454761539520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4466622454761539520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/12/days-without-guys-year-1-day-124.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 124'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-568906934211941131</id><published>2008-11-14T21:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T09:40:31.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 79</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;So I was sitting here trying to find the "new post" button (and guess what? It's like right there on the screen! I haven't been on Blogger in a while, so I'm not very familiar with the settings) to blog something after reading Juli's (sorry I forgot your Che` name lol) posts. Wow. I think she is the most poetic one out of all of us. And I'm on AIM with two other ches (I don't know their che name either. -_-), but I'm not paying attention to the convo because they're talking about their own stuff. Korean drama madness!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;School still sucks. Everyday I find myself counting down to the time where I get to go home and eat and have some leisure time. My dad's in Vietnam right now, so I've been slacking off a bit...a lot. He's coming back on Tuesday! I have a presentation for Religion on Thursday...and I'm not looking forward to that at all. None. Zip. Nada. I suck at presentations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;So the TVB channel is on and a Chinese song is playing, and I looked over and there is this hot looking girl singing. I'm not a lesbian or anything, but she is very pretty...What? It's...It's Linda Chu...I think. Let me google her name. She was in Virtues of Harmony. OHH. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Linda Chung.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Yeah. The make up she has on made her look different, in a good way. She looks hot, dude. O_O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Okay, I gave up on the convo with D &amp;amp; S. I'm like completely lost. I've been addicted to Starbucks, dude! That's not good. I thirst for it everyday. I even drink it at 10PM while I'm on the computer chatting with my bff. Crazy? Yes. I couldn't sleep that night until like...friggin 1AM. I wasn't late for class, though. So that's...good, I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;So, blah blah blah. Life sucks, school sucks, I still need to register!! Holy cow...I still owe money so I don'tk now if they will let me register or not...UGHH. Can someone lend me $800. hahha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-568906934211941131?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/568906934211941131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=568906934211941131' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/568906934211941131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/568906934211941131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-dont-know-date-ill-edit-this-later.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 79'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4187443549719216410</id><published>2008-10-28T23:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T23:26:48.058-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 62</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Things not only crumble when they fall, they leave a bad image in all of our heads. Little do we know, the image is falling within itself, leaving behind a dark void. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I'm not ready. Ready to give myself up to reality. The world that I've built up for myself is tearing itself apart to save myself. Exactly how do I find what I'm not suppose to look for? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Aimlessly looking and searching for something that will never be mine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To want is to give up yourself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To need is to open my heart to all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To have is to tear my mind to keep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To give is to take away my everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To try is preparing myself for tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To risk is to accept the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To feel is heartaches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To cry is to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;To live is nights of tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;And to love is the death of myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I can't find what I'm not looking for. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;But I can't not help but look. For the moment in life I can give it all up. I smile for myself, but I cry for the lost of what could be. I'm trying, struggling, drowning in an oblivion of dark mist. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I can't breath. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I can't accept and be myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I can't blink without seeing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I can't see without the hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;For what could have been, not what should have been. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I can't lose myself. I have to fight. I have to know I'm there. I am here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Accept me or move on. I will not fight a lost fight. I am the fight and you will be the fighter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Let the games begin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-4187443549719216410?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4187443549719216410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4187443549719216410' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4187443549719216410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4187443549719216410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/10/days-without-guys-year-1-day-62.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 62'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-2748494944743978705</id><published>2008-10-21T23:52:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T02:55:48.282-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 55</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;KABOOM! look folks, or my lovely Che's, or anyone that even bother to read...-awkward silence-, the point being, I'm blogging! -__-" you'd think since my days have been "guyless", I'd blog every darn day, but see, my anti-depressant is, obviously not blogging, I guess most of you can guess, MOVIE MADNESS! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Okay, I was about to go into details about something that happened months ago, but no, that's in the past, LET IT GO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;I guess being a college student now means I have more room to be "lazy" lol, and i'm sad to say, I take more than full advantage of it, hell, i literally RAPE lazy. Days involve me planning how to get through school and home to do nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;PAUSE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;LONGER PAUSE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;The song "It's hard to say goodbye" is stuck in my head. ehh, I have nothing else to say about the song, just that it's so friggin' GOOD!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;How have I been these days? Total slacker. I keep telling myself I will sit down and write my research paper, but have I done so? Nope. That crap aside, I also I want to point out what a leecher I am. For the past month, I've been going to my friend's house and eating there. Or when there are materials at home to cook, I don't even bother, but would just call up my friend and say "I'm coming over k". -___- Horrible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Lemons will not get you lemonade. It'll get you an eye stinger. When I thought life would be lighter to carry on my shoulders, the pressure builds until I'm down on my knees. Pathetic and sad as it is, this happens to be all my fault. But I hate that I have thoughts of blame. Of putting the blame on others shoulders, yes, the environment that I'm in needs me to be my own motivator, but I can't get in those shoes when all around me are easy and blurry paths. I can just stumble through any and it'll take me to a place, not of my own, but a place of its own. How do I push myself? The future that I see for myself holds nothing but bright lights, expect for the dark patches I see around sharp angles. But that's too far to think into, move on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;The days go by so quickly. I feel like I'm loosing touch with everything around me. My grip on life is slipping away before my eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Funny how when I see what I want, I go after it. But it's never my way that the river flows. I'm constantly struggling through the current to the other end. It's been so long, can anyone imagine me living my days "WITH" a guy? lol. Somehow, I feel like I'm jinxing myself by speaking this aloud. ALWAYSS! One minute I feel as if all is going well, but then the next, oh hell no! =P must I say again, life sucks. Will you hear from me again soon? We can only wistfully hope so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-2748494944743978705?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/2748494944743978705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=2748494944743978705' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2748494944743978705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/2748494944743978705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/10/days-without-guys-year-1-day-55.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 55'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-1134103046991635976</id><published>2008-08-27T15:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T16:37:55.382-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SLWzelaaIxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/9VwITRIEPW0/s1600-h/che.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239291079535764242" style="" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SLWzelaaIxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/9VwITRIEPW0/s400/che.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Oh, wow. It's been a year already? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;So, here I am complaining about school. I'm a college freshman! And I really really really really miss my high school days, now that I'm out of there. It's been 3 days so far, and today was the best one. First day sucked because I was totally new there, and didn't know anyone or anything, and I got confused a lot when it comes to the classrooms. In my one of my classes there is this really cute guy. He's Australian. Heck, he probably doesn't even know who the heo I am. That's usually the case for me when it comes to crushes/cute guys. Sad? Totally!!! Anyway, I barely noticed him today. I heard him on Monday introducing himself (we all had to do it), but didn't care or even bother to look. But today I did! haha. So yeah...crap, I forgot his name. haha. I don't think I even heard it, or maybe I did but I forgot since I'm very forgetful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Books are freaking expensive. And always buy it like 2 weeks before you start class (especially if you buy it from Amazon). Believe me, I learned that the hard way. =( Ugh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I think one of my prof. is gay. Seriously. haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;The other day I had a dream that my older sister did this match making thing for her friend and me. I was so horrified in my dream when I found out that I have to date him, and eventually get marry to him. LOL! He is 28 or 29 years old, and he isn't very goodlooking. I was HORRIFIED. hahah! I think I ran away in my dream, and that's when I woke up. It's more like a nightmare, eh??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-1134103046991635976?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/1134103046991635976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=1134103046991635976' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1134103046991635976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1134103046991635976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/08/days-without-guys.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Year 1 Day 2'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SLWzelaaIxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/9VwITRIEPW0/s72-c/che.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3143307348705141188</id><published>2008-08-25T01:08:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T02:03:25.711-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 365</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;HAPPY ANNIVERSARY CHES!!!! =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;How ironic is it that the day that I check this blog, it's been exactly one year and 5 minutes since I've started this blog with you guys. Amazing is it not? Though we weren't able to blog every day, the fact that we've all contributed to this blog without the force of blackmail, besides the sad part of us being part of this blog because well, we have no guys. HA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;Funny how since last year, I hope that every day since I've accepted that I'm stuck in a time of no companionship, would bring me one step closer to my closure. But hence that is not the case, I will strive on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;Lots have been going on since my last post, but the brunt of it is, if life doesn't get any better, I don't know whats the point of continuing. Now those may sound like suicidal words, but trust me, they're not. I'm still a virgin, so there's no way I'm dying so soon. Or any time after that, since I'm pretty sure I'm going to turn into a sex addict. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;My life is at a new point where I'm all I have. No one is going to be there for me, so I have to stop believing that I can depend on anyone. All the let downs I've had, should've struck me down long ago. But I hope since I'm still standing, it means I'm still doing fine. Please all, give me the support that I ever ask of you. The least I ask for is your friendship.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;30 minutes later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;Okay i went off, but now i'm back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;Guys are total douche bags. So I went to this dumb dumb get together the other day. I was having a crappy day, total pmsing, not bothering a single soul, so why are they playing with fire huh? They knew exactly what they were getting into, so why are they acting surprised when they get burned? This is who I am, why do I have to act like some idiot and pretend like everyone is just the awesomest person on earth and kiss their ass? Who the fuck do they think they are? Those that do know me say that it's because they don't know me, so it doesn't matter what they think. And I totally understand that, which is why I don't even bother to explain or defend myself, to anyone. Let them think what they want. Call me mean, angry, emo, a bitch, I could careless. So why am I telling you this? It isn't to make a point that I'm an innocent victim and they're the bad doers, no, I just want you to understand that everyone is different, so don't expect everyone to swing to your music. I am not altering myself nor ask anyone to fix themselves to be with me in any way. Yeah, that's too much to ask for, for you to do nothing. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;My gawd, what an awful person I must be. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;Again, lots to say, but my distress is not your pain. So I'll make this short now. But I hope to hear from everyone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-3143307348705141188?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3143307348705141188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3143307348705141188' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3143307348705141188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3143307348705141188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/08/days-without-guys-day-365.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 365'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3299507478016883049</id><published>2008-08-24T23:11:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T04:51:25.431-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 364</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;It's time to go back to the drawing board but this time I really don't know what to draw. Everything that I thought, isn't what it appears to be. All of the talks about fairy tale love stories and happily ever after may seem to great but it's hard to make it come out that way. The rocky roads that everyone bike must face to overcome the obstacles of the trail is really no different from a person journey in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like my xanga banner say, "i must be a fool," and I really don't doubt it. haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SLI20ucvGNI/AAAAAAAAAG8/sd6puuYEO7c/s1600-h/chetrai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SLI20ucvGNI/AAAAAAAAAG8/sd6puuYEO7c/s400/chetrai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238309596034963666" 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/7275779486869169368-3299507478016883049?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3299507478016883049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3299507478016883049' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3299507478016883049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3299507478016883049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/08/days-without-guys-day-363.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 364'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SLI20ucvGNI/AAAAAAAAAG8/sd6puuYEO7c/s72-c/chetrai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5769617028564086092</id><published>2008-07-28T14:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T14:18:45.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 337</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Is it me or is this blog utterly dead? hahah. Well, here comes Maddie to the rescue! Keeping this blog alive, and plus I have nothing else to do. =_=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop harassing me for those T-shirt pics! haha. I don't have any. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, does anyone know how to install wireless internet on laptops? I REALLY want to use my laptop with internet on it, and without having to plug in wires and other crap to it. That's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; wireless, isn't it? =__=&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Oh, and there's this kid at church who always stares at me. How creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am soo craving this right now. Cajun pasta from Bennigan's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Drools*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bennigans.com/images/food_popups/pic_cajun_pasta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.bennigans.com/images/food_popups/pic_cajun_pasta.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Graduation practice...*sighs* I miss high school now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SI4MT1pT9_I/AAAAAAAAAC0/EQQOoqhSpiI/s1600-h/graduation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SI4MT1pT9_I/AAAAAAAAAC0/EQQOoqhSpiI/s400/graduation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228129752381126642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I must agree with Che Trai Cay's comment. Asia 4 is whack. haha. But I think that some of the songs they remix (such as Pretty Woman, Bad Boys Blue Medley) are such great songs!! Of course the original singers of those songs are definitely way better. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start school on August 25th. What about y'all?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5769617028564086092?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5769617028564086092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5769617028564086092' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5769617028564086092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5769617028564086092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-without-guys-day-337.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 337'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-762123167279559948</id><published>2008-07-17T13:45:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T14:15:49.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 326</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 400px;" alt="" src="http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I'm going to spend this Christmas in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Canada&lt;/span&gt;!! ^___^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the mall today and didn't buy anything even though my sister insists that she'll buy me something. I DON'T WANT ANYTHING! I'd rather save money to pay for school. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my new Gucci shades. Chyeahh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/Kristy_2004/Kawaii/Picture006-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 98px; height: 148px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/Kristy_2004/Kawaii/Picture006-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Have you heard that song&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I Wanna Heart Your Heartbeat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Bad Boys Blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;? It's this super old song by a band formed in &lt;em&gt;Germany&lt;/em&gt; in the 1980s. The song itself is in English, of course. I've been listening to it. It's awesome even though some people might think it's gay or whatever. (The Vietnamese boy band Asia 4 also sang a medley of their songs called Bad Boy Blue Medley in one of the Asia shows.) But hey, its better than rap! Rap is just a bunch of gibberish. That's music? HAH! &lt;_&lt;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I ♥ old music. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-762123167279559948?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/762123167279559948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=762123167279559948' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/762123167279559948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/762123167279559948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-without-guys-day-326.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 326'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5395471600488625136</id><published>2008-07-15T21:42:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T22:09:30.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;some pictures from Block Island. i stayed there for a couple of days, but it was really nice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1UjDB75RI/AAAAAAAAAA0/VtToK0zl5QM/s1600-h/DSC00183.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223424103905223954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1UjDB75RI/AAAAAAAAAA0/VtToK0zl5QM/s320/DSC00183.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;i was afraid he was gonna spit on me. &lt;_&lt;;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1UHj2-9YI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Z0aOi__ZogE/s1600-h/DSC00161.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223423631681320322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1UHj2-9YI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Z0aOi__ZogE/s320/DSC00161.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;that's me! =Dmy friend and i were trying to body surf, but somehow my other friend got a picture of me all alone in the corner of the beach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1TgjXBCCI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ZcLb29kQuac/s1600-h/DSC00119.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223422961532340258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1TgjXBCCI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ZcLb29kQuac/s320/DSC00119.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;one of the beaches on the island, it's tricky getting down there, you go down a flight of steep stairs and climb down a steep rocky path, but the waves are rough, so surfing is fun, and there are not many people who goes there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1TDrNMMtI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Dm4W0rf6CDY/s1600-h/DSC00118.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223422465422406354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1TDrNMMtI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Dm4W0rf6CDY/s320/DSC00118.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;alot of climbing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1SrBUzMEI/AAAAAAAAAAU/F4j2Jdi5fKg/s1600-h/DSC00116.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223422041863172162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1SrBUzMEI/AAAAAAAAAAU/F4j2Jdi5fKg/s320/DSC00116.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;the stairs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1R8wD2PXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wMqWMMllZ6Y/s1600-h/DSC00109.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1R8wD2PXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wMqWMMllZ6Y/s1600-h/DSC00109.JPG"&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1R8wD2PXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wMqWMMllZ6Y/s320/DSC00109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beach glass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;there's more...but im just sharing these for now=)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5395471600488625136?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5395471600488625136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5395471600488625136' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5395471600488625136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5395471600488625136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/some-pictures-from-block-island.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_FoAR4NZbnus/SH1UjDB75RI/AAAAAAAAAA0/VtToK0zl5QM/s72-c/DSC00183.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-31994020427485279</id><published>2008-07-14T20:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T20:28:26.697-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 323</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Soo, I've heard that one of us aren't really "without a guy?" haha. traitor!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;just kidding. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm "stalking" my cousin's blog now, his Yahoo360. I guess that's like the Myspace or Facebook in Vietnam? Dude, he is so freaking emo. =___= &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;AHH!! Laptop battery almost out of battery again! Did I not charge it already??!??! Aish...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So, yesterday or something, Banh Xeo and I briefly talked about a future get together for all of us. hehe. It sounds so exciting, and we must make it happen sometimes, ladies!!!! And of course if you haven't heard I am again, "deprived of my own race" at school. Yes, I AM THE ONLY ASIAN again at my school. How sad. *sniffs* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;But...that's just for the first year, though. hehe. Because I'm going to transfer to another school where there will be more Asian people. *YAY* Well, the majority is white people, though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;"I need to know I need to know. Tell me baby girl 'cause I need to know. If its true don't leave me all alone out here. Wondering if you're ever going to take me there..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;haha. I LOve that song. It has this....catchy tune to it. ^___^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Keeping the blog alive*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;♥ Che Thai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-31994020427485279?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/31994020427485279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=31994020427485279' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/31994020427485279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/31994020427485279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-without-guys-day-323.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 323'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i26.tinypic.com/vy839l_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7908187311025926796</id><published>2008-07-13T15:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T16:00:26.967-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yah! sorry guy, due to my lack of vietnamese intelligence i don't know any other che names, i refer to them as "cai do". but i like banh seo, so i hope you don't mind =D&lt;br /&gt;so i went to the beach today, it was an hr drive, and about 25 minutes to the beach when we got to the island. i drove on the highway less than 20 times, and i hate driving. i didn't know the way so i was tailgating my friend and we were weaving in and out of trafic, it was fun...like that game frogger. the beach was nice, the waves were rough and the current was strong. just standing there, i got knocked over so many time. when the 5' waves knock you over and slamming you against the sand, it burns, but well worth it =D than my bikini had to slip and exposed my left side. -____-;  listen to the song, "i'm good, i'm gone"by lykki li. i like her style. my favorite song from her is call "little bit". so my i've been cell phoneless for 2 weeks now. i feel...empty. i don't have to constanstly check for text messages and missed calls anymore...and i miss that. and i also miss how my cell would brighten up when i get a call. dam techonology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Add Video to QuickList" href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=OJHdT1j6hH8&amp;amp;feature=related#" ql="ngd45o-M_M4"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7908187311025926796?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7908187311025926796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7908187311025926796' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7908187311025926796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7908187311025926796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/yah-sorry-guy-due-to-my-lack-of.html' title=''/><author><name>That's Not My Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09551614772309445418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-6904323598131379886</id><published>2008-07-11T14:16:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T14:44:44.189-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 320</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I think I've told Che Trai Cay about this on IM the other day. It's about this guy I randomly met 2 summers ago. He was so cute! Too bad he's just a bit short for a guy. I think that I have faint memories of this guy is because he winked at me (not in a weird, psycho perverted way but in a playful &amp;amp; cute kind of way), and I remember I was getting red like a tomato. haha. Other than that, I really don't remember how his face looks like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;The&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; jerk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; has a really nice house! I'm looking at his brother's car pics taken at his house. lol. Stalker? I don't think so! I'm his brother's "friend" on Facebook even though the last time we (his brother and I) talked was ages ago. And yes, there are a few pictures of him that I can totally "steal" and show to the Ches since none of you knows how he looks like, besides Bobbie but she has short term memory, so I'm sure she doesn't remember how he looks like sinceI showed that picture to her like...3 years ago!...but I would never do that. =D  because it's too stalker-ish. And plus who'd want to see his ugly...nevermind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Moving on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Does any of the Ches read magazines such as ELLE, CosmoGirl!, Seventeen, TeenVogue, etc? I do. haha. I used to subscribed to TeenVogue and CosmoGirl! but quit since...you don't have to know. =D Anyway, I buy them individually now instead of a subscription thing for a whole year. Andddd...the newest issue features Blake Lively - that girl from Gossip Girl. Uh, I think her name is Serena or something in the show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bumpshack.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/blake_lively.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://bumpshack.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/blake_lively.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;The clothes, jewelries, bags, shoes, etc. in this magazine is A LOT cheaper and more affordable in this magazine and CosmoGirl! than from ELLE, as from what I've noticed and the styles from ELLE aren't what people would wear everyday. It's too...fashionable?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Yeah, I got that issue of ELLE too. I was bored to death at home, so it's just something to keep me entertained. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHen1DNwszI/AAAAAAAAACs/Qxj79iePML0/s1600-h/elle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHen1DNwszI/AAAAAAAAACs/Qxj79iePML0/s400/elle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221826822797308722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, this entry is boring. haha. Just about girly magazines that I read. o_O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-6904323598131379886?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/6904323598131379886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=6904323598131379886' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6904323598131379886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/6904323598131379886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-without-guys-day-320.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 320'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHen1DNwszI/AAAAAAAAACs/Qxj79iePML0/s72-c/elle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-8911578184448061921</id><published>2008-07-08T01:39:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T01:56:31.635-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 316</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/R4E7rrO8jzI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pQceyz9HDIs/s1600-h/che.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/R4E7rrO8jzI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pQceyz9HDIs/s400/che.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152465070214385458" 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;strong&gt;Che Xinh Xa&lt;/strong&gt;, I wish there was a book, a pill or something that can guide us, but so far it is only ourselves. Yup. The secret of life as I learned it, is not a secret, is nothing really, because it is everything and can be anything and nothing as well. Confusing, is also what it is, but it is also not when you think about it. Haha ok, I'll stop my religious teaching lol. Seduce them with your heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the blog, &lt;strong&gt;Che Thai&lt;/strong&gt;. It is nice to have new members, new friends, new post mate, it keeps the spirit alive. No we are not some cult. Silly. I'm just wondering to why you have so many drafts? Lol. I read them, they seem to be good starts to interesting things you are writing. Maybe one day it will be published so we all can read in? Nuuu don't delete it... don't burn it. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lan&lt;/strong&gt;, you are changing right before my eyes. Looking even better than ever. I wish I can be as inspiring to look great. Food got the best of me. Plus I figure who do I need to impress? No one, but myself and I am pretty happy eating those fries, cheesecake, buffets are nice, rice and soysauce, seafood, and the list goes on. OH my mouth is watering... I'll stop here? Well. you are of those who are blesss, yes bless with a great warming smile. (I need to force mine... so much pressure).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che Trai Cay&lt;/strong&gt;, I've been eating a lot of fruits lately and yeah I think of you. You know trai cay = fruits, yeah. Hehe. Well, what about that romantic love story of yours? Where is frog prince? Go chase after him, don't let him jump by you. If anyone is is gifted with the utter most cuteness, it is you. Plus you got a great disguise, the innocentness as well. MY GOD if only they know how evel youu are muhahah. I joke, i kid, im sorry if i offend.hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che Ba Mau&lt;/strong&gt;, you are truely dimensional and talented and multicolored. Hehe. Where have you been? We all miss you oh so dearly. You are like the rainbow, hard to catch. Come back to us and post up something that comes from the heart, show us the way of greatness. Your wise words and more....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to myself, &lt;strong&gt;Che Xanh.. to be continue MUHAHAHAHAH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-8911578184448061921?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/8911578184448061921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=8911578184448061921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8911578184448061921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/8911578184448061921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-without-guys-day-316.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 316'/><author><name>Che Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08823881642669840088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/TLut-P6_DCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9HqwR_yAnOE/S220/sakura-wallpaper_800x600.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/R4E7rrO8jzI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pQceyz9HDIs/s72-c/che.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5186450671231770948</id><published>2008-07-06T22:40:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T15:18:06.497-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 315</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;I'm reading a fanfic on Soompi right now. It's pretty cute, starring Taebin. Oh, my love, my darling...LOL. Sorry, random. I heard that song earlier today. O.o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comment on Che Xinh Xa's post. &lt;___&lt; Yes, I've never been "chickened" before. See, see now you make me feel like I'm...I don't know...weird? ahha. Anywho, so were you talking about a new guy? Or that black guy? I'm soo behind here, ba gia.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family is watching the new Paris By Night now, the Nhac Yeu Cau one. It's super loud. How annoying. The comedy is on. LOL. It's funny. They're all laughing their azz off.    I went to the park today! It was such a bea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;utiful day, until lunchtime hits and it's hot like hell again. Texas weather...*sighs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt; Clear blue sky...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHGEfQvIDZI/AAAAAAAAACY/D2qJBySvZnA/s1600-h/Picture+220.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHGEfQvIDZI/AAAAAAAAACY/D2qJBySvZnA/s400/Picture+220.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220099115702554002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;Dude, I never have any err..."luck" with guys. Like, even just a good friend to be there on crappy days, you know? Sure, I had guy friends but not the type where I can tell him things. All they talk about are games, guy things, or how hot this one girl is, etc. All of the guys I've ever liked are always that he's taken, doesn't like me, only sees me as a friend, or doesn't know I even exist. haha. I think this guy (an acquaintance)  probably thinks that I'm a lesbian because I never dated or whatever, he didn't ask it directly but uh...yeah, I can totally tell he was referring to my status or whatever. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you Che's afraid of dying alone or never ever getting married? I'm not. I mean, to me, the thought of becoming a mother scares me. You have to carry it for 9 months, give birth, take care of it, and what if that baby boy/girl grows up and become bad? What if he/she rebels you? Geez, that's the last thing on earth I want to deal with. And plus after having children, our boobs will sag and there will be that big ol' roll of fat on our stomach. There is always surgery to beautify that, but in the long run, its not good for your body to have plastic surgeries.  I might sound selfish here, but I don't want a family. I don't want that kind of responsibility. And I've had that thought since...years ago. haha. Yeah, I planned out my life wayyy ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago, I was thinking of becoming a nun. Well, that won't happen anymore because I'll never be ready to give up like that. I'm selfish. I have dreams and goals I want to achieve during this lifetime, one of them is being able to see the world/to travel, and seeing every single fascinating place on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I've always wanted to do is watch the sunset with my future, currently non-existant significant other. I've seen it by myself before, but I'm sure its different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, toodles now!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHGGhKadYGI/AAAAAAAAACg/xsGRYmU04g0/s1600-h/PIC.php"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHGGhKadYGI/AAAAAAAAACg/xsGRYmU04g0/s400/PIC.php" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220101347388252258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-5186450671231770948?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5186450671231770948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5186450671231770948' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5186450671231770948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5186450671231770948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-315.html' title='Day 315'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SHGEfQvIDZI/AAAAAAAAACY/D2qJBySvZnA/s72-c/Picture+220.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-4978174475823997816</id><published>2008-07-06T20:59:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T22:14:58.347-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 315</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hell, only 60 more days till it'll be a full year. I hope we all can do a blog on that day, kind of like a celebration of this, though a number of us aren't experiencing days without guys any longer. No faux pas, but hopefully those that were able to escape these days will never have to return. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;A brief interlude of life from me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;Why. Who here haven't been chickened aka kissed? With the exception of Che Thai, I'm sure we all have huh?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;The more I read this thread on soompi of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.soompi.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=149793&amp;amp;st=80"&gt;"first makeout sessions"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;, it's making me more and MORE depressed. I haven't been chicken in years! Ahhh the agony. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;Besides my painful desires that have yet to be fulfilled, I want everyone to know, YES I AM A CHICKEN. I am seriously an idiot. A stupid fat little idiotic chicken. I all talk but when it comes to walk the walk, where am i? Chickening out. Oh yeah. How pathetic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;Let me ask you Ches, those that ever come here and read. How do I do it? How do I have the courage to approach him? I thought I could. Everyone else thought I could. But when push came to shove, I just threw myself into a fetal position and let by gones GO BY!!! All I had to do was walk up to him and place my order and ask for his number. But no, I didn't have to guts to do so and wasted 2 hours just sitting there, staring at him. HUHUHU. I mean, how can you just walk up to a guy and start something? What if he isn't interested and I end up being a loser? Well technicially, I am one, for sitting here and whining about this. But But. I just can't do it. I don't have the confidence in me. I just don't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;STOP READING NOW. THE REST ARE JUST PLAIN IDIOTIC WORDS TO MYSELF.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;"YOU IDIOT. YOU STINKING IDIOT. WHERE ARE YOUR BALLS. WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT BRAVO? YOU MAKE ME SICK. BE A WOMAN AND GO GET THAT MAN. OR MOVE ON!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;-ahem-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;So after a day has passed, I am here, regretting my chickenshit. For not approaching him. I mean, rejection is a really really hard thing to accept. It kills more than 90% of chances of people ever finding true love or hell, GETTING LAID.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;So I've made up my mind AGAIN to go ask him for his number this coming Saturday. That means 6 days of talking myself into approaching him and what to say, only to have it dashed away 100 yards away from approaching him. The devil it be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;"&gt;OH GREAT OL' Ches. Help your fellowship. Teach me your excellent ways. Or if you have those seduction pills or anything, I'm game. ^_^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" 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/7275779486869169368-4978174475823997816?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/4978174475823997816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=4978174475823997816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4978174475823997816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/4978174475823997816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-without-guys-day-315.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 315'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-362719027367250046</id><published>2008-07-02T23:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T22:03:08.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 310 Wears on</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;LOL just wanted to comment on Che Thai's first officially rad post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;CONGRATS you wonderful beauty you!! ^_^ LOL i hope he ends up rotting on some really sad highway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;College eh? Me and you in the same boat here, man it's going to be crazy. But I can't wait. Just wish you could have gone to school with me. UT all the way!! Well not really, but I hope it'll grow on me, lol, kind of had that long overdue grudge against it too. You know, how asian parents going on and on about their kids getting into certain schools(UT) that made detest UT so bad since I was young. But beggars can't be choosers. HA!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Well now, I gotta be off to bed, since there will be more work the upcoming days, total SHIT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;My problems and life will have to be on hold for now, so no detailed blogs from this loser any time soon. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Verdana;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-362719027367250046?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/362719027367250046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=362719027367250046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/362719027367250046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/362719027367250046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-310-wears-on.html' title='Day 310 Wears on'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-3636392193338753127</id><published>2008-07-02T07:26:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T13:49:21.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 310</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SG-0BgJLw0I/AAAAAAAAACI/UjX8X1OlONQ/s1600-h/share_redirect.php"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SG-0BgJLw0I/AAAAAAAAACI/UjX8X1OlONQ/s400/share_redirect.php" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219588431047017282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello to all Ches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Wow, I finally joined this thing. DUDE!! I saw this blog before!!! I kinda skim through it but didn't know who it belonged to. LOL.  I used to have an account but forgot about it over the years. Yes, I've also been reading the first few entries that the Ches wrote. I think I stop at Day 18 or so. It's such a hassel, though having to keep clicking "older posts" for like 399 times before I get to those older pages. It's pretty awesome blogging, it made me laugh here and there. ^_^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;So, it is now 6:30 AM Central time. What am I doing up so early on a fine Tuesday summer day? I don't know, really. I was sleeping fine until I feel sweaty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt; &amp;amp; just w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;oke up. I lay there on bed for about 15 minutes and couldn't go back to sl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;eep! I'm going t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;o make breakfast for my mom at about 7:30. Hehehe...=]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my current obsession is soccer!! OMG. All those hot guys and I barely discovered it?! Geez. Alright, fine. Not all of the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt; guys are hotties. Just a few, such as: Cesc Fabregas, David Villa, and Fernando Torres. All from the Spain national team. And yes, I've been watching the EURO 2008 from beginning to end. It's a good sport. =] At least I can understand it more than football even though my sister tried to explain it to me a dozen time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;s. I'll upload a few pics at the end of this entry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;We're all still single, correct? To &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Che Xinh Xa&lt;/span&gt;: Remember the jerk I always talk about? Yes, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; jerk. Well, I'm happy to say that I completely forgot about him! Finally, I'm free! lol. Aren't you so proud of me now?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been doing much this summer so I fee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;l &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;at no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;w. I still fit into my 0-3 size jeans *its all different sizes for different brands, apparently. O.o*, but I feel utterly fat in it. Only around the thigh/butt area. I think I inherit that from my mommy. -_-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I'm watching VH1 now, and a video of Madonna is playing - Give It To Me. Heh, I'm never a fan of her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;As for school, I'm going to TWU this fall. It's a sma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;ll &amp;amp; private university, population: about 2,000 or so. Again, there are NO Asian people at t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;his campus. There are Asians at the Law School campus, but I don't think there are any undergrads. Pfffttt. There's a lot of Asians at that other school that I'm going to transfer to, and rich white people too. haha.  It's also private, but costs A LO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;TTT more. Yeah, those kids are bad ass. But the school has a super good reputation, and you know Asian parents, always bragging about how insanely smart &amp;amp; a good girl/boy their child is when in reality they're some crackhead or slut. ahha. Okay, anyways. You know it's so true!!! =D Back to about me - all of the Viet parents of the kids that go to/graduated from that good school brag to other parents about it - my parents. haha. I hate it when they do that. Comparing their kids. Sheesh. Go gives a damn!? I don't. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH yeah! My major is Chemistry. Whoo-hoo. One day I'm going to rule the world &amp;amp; become some kind of mad evil scientist. muahahah. LOL jk. Umm, I'm going to become an Anesthesiologist. Chyeah. =] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad asked me if I wanted to go to Vietnam this summer. UH...I don't know, or care, really. I'd rather go somew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;here else than &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Vietnam. But you see, my grandmother is dying, so my parents want to come back to see her before sh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;e passes away. She's the only person I like. The rest are just a bunch of morons. Ain't worth my time and money seeing their faces. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay I'll stop blabbing now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Picture time. ^_&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;______^&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YEAH. &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SPAIN WON!!&lt;/span&gt; OMG!!! haha. Fernando Torres made the goal. I followed the whole game from beginning to e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;nd. It was freaking awesome. I can't wait until FIFA in 2 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;LOL. The look Sergio Ramos's face *guy in white T-shirt* made me laugh. But, that looks  unsafe, though. O.o&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGttphmAifI/AAAAAAAAABg/L_ZfNGfZzew/s1600-h/espana_colon4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGttphmAifI/AAAAAAAAABg/L_ZfNGfZzew/s400/espana_colon4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218385153398704626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGts7hqrCXI/AAAAAAAAABY/XScQidcu7VA/s1600-h/1214855584148.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGts7hqrCXI/AAAAAAAAABY/XScQidcu7VA/s400/1214855584148.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218384363144284530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtvAjewzOI/AAAAAAAAABo/I2cHV2pzTgY/s1600-h/a989e6161d1bec0cc8ac9c87824148fb-ge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtvAjewzOI/AAAAAAAAABo/I2cHV2pzTgY/s400/a989e6161d1bec0cc8ac9c87824148fb-ge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218386648553802978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;The hot guy? 2nd from bottom right corner - with his sleeves rolled up. Cesc Fabregas, # 10. ^_^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtvsYQO0nI/AAAAAAAAABw/daHJO_2EhNc/s1600-h/llegada1ju2008c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtvsYQO0nI/AAAAAAAAABw/daHJO_2EhNc/s400/llegada1ju2008c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218387401454310002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;My fave: Left. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;David Villa # 10&lt;/span&gt;. He's short! But he's married to some ugly chick. Pffttt. His little girl is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;adorable&lt;/span&gt;, though:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtwdgKGs9I/AAAAAAAAAB4/rDV-OseKba8/s1600-h/d76bc06b7b50ff83d096477c183e30fd-ge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtwdgKGs9I/AAAAAAAAAB4/rDV-OseKba8/s400/d76bc06b7b50ff83d096477c183e30fd-ge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218388245389685714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Holy cow...I'd totally die if I was there. -___-  Why? Because I'm totally claustrophobic. haha. Yeah, I figured  that out last year when I started to feel panic-y &amp;amp; feel like its hard to breathe when there's a lot of people around me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtwq7rg-OI/AAAAAAAAACA/cb4WX20Fwe8/s1600-h/f923ddd31a4708153bf3cfe7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SGtwq7rg-OI/AAAAAAAAACA/cb4WX20Fwe8/s400/f923ddd31a4708153bf3cfe7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218388476115876066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; I'm editing this thing and it's insanely long! O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-3636392193338753127?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/3636392193338753127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=3636392193338753127' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3636392193338753127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/3636392193338753127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/07/days-without-guys-day-310.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 310'/><author><name>Che Thai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00131808788857081483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/S_xWb8yBxiI/AAAAAAAAAc0/oRWAFxy14rM/S220/ff2229e5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_niFKC7TDiGo/SG-0BgJLw0I/AAAAAAAAACI/UjX8X1OlONQ/s72-c/share_redirect.php' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-5809148257462788981</id><published>2008-06-28T00:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T04:56:19.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 306</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;its almost a year since this blog was started! and summer is in the process! what have you guys being doing this summer, beside sitting at home and getting fat? -.- although that is a pleasure of life, well not when u have to go buy new pants size since you "outgrew" them. iyah. haha. since since i have to tone down for the body shot to give to the other che's to make a t shirt with everyone in it. haha. yay! i get to wear hot pictures the che's around. surely, that will attract the guys! not to me tho but they'll be asking for the numbers of everyone else ^___^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SGWDx9hTxkI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Lq4P0YhA3YQ/s1600-h/chetrai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SGWDx9hTxkI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Lq4P0YhA3YQ/s400/chetrai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216720637729687106" 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/7275779486869169368-5809148257462788981?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/5809148257462788981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=5809148257462788981' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5809148257462788981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/5809148257462788981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/06/days-without-guys-day-305.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 306'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/SGWDx9hTxkI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Lq4P0YhA3YQ/s72-c/chetrai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-1931664160079733046</id><published>2008-06-14T23:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T01:02:34.671-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 292</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3366ff;"&gt;GAWD!!!! These days are so crappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started this post 2 hours ago, now too sleepy to finish. LOL. But I'll try to tomorrow. Have lots of stuff to say to you folks...or no one in particular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/Indecent_Pink/cxx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-1931664160079733046?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/1931664160079733046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=1931664160079733046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1931664160079733046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/1931664160079733046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/06/days-without-guys-day-292.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 292'/><author><name>Che Xinh Xa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06539192617045713464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7897572506473664352</id><published>2008-04-12T21:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T21:40:40.741-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 220</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;What now you guys? Seriously..WHAT now? Let me start off to tell you guys what I did all week.&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Research Paper. Work.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Research Paper. Prepare for International Food Day.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Test. Study for Physics Test.&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Stayed Home. Research Paper.&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Nothing in school. Went on the swings with my friend for a little bit. And while everybody went to watch the biggest volleyball game of the season, I had to go to work.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Jogged. Late for work. Went to post office. Then, to Center City. AND then to South St. Pretty long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you guys can see..I have no time for my friends or ANYBODY. I only have Sundays, but that's family day. And I just miss hanging out and being a teenager. It's ok. I know what I'm doing is going to help me a lot when I'm out there in the real world. But right now..I just want a break. I really do. And I think I'm gaining weight..=[ Even though I work out everyday. Jog all the time. I still feel fat and out of shape. I'm sorry for venting. But my friends don't want to hear it anymore and I don't know who else to say it to. I can't keep holding it in. I've had many times where I've wanted to throw up. But I know that if I do it, I'll get addicted and then I'll keep doing it. And I seriously do not want that. I know how to control myself but those thoughts are always in the back of my head. I wished that I loved myself a little more. I wished that I could look in the mirror and say..."hey, I look pretty today." and really mean it. I hate looking at myself directly in the mirror. I just look at my stomach..ALL the time to see how fat I've gotten. And lately, it has been getting pretty bad. Although people are telling me otherwise. I still think how I do. My best friend does not know how beautiful she is and she always compliments me when she's the one that's getting all the guys. It's kind of weird. But yeah. I sometimes wished that I wasn't so boring at first. I just hate showing and putting myself out there when I first meet somebody because I'm so insecure that they won't like me. Ok. Enough about me. As for you guys, I really do hope you all get better. I know we'll all get through the crap that we're going through. We've done it before. Smile. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7897572506473664352?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7897572506473664352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7897572506473664352' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7897572506473664352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7897572506473664352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/04/days-without-guys-day-220.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 220'/><author><name>Che Dau Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598646204048497493</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ITbyYcqMbtg/StvfFdESetI/AAAAAAAAAC4/DouuwAhVywc/S220/DSC00282.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7795702545685033517</id><published>2008-04-10T11:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T12:12:55.953-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 218</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/R4E7rrO8jzI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pQceyz9HDIs/s1600-h/che.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/R4E7rrO8jzI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pQceyz9HDIs/s400/che.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152465070214385458" 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;I feel so sad along with the Che's who are suffering right now. There is not much to say accept that we are here. Talk to us and let us listen. CALL ME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO... I guess let me bitch too about life. I have two close friends that I hang with often and they like a guy that I like too. But they are more obvious about it, not afraid to touch him, lean on him, hug him, and even plan a surprise kiss on him. He doesn't like them because he likes me. We are like secretly trying to get together. But it is like impossible. I don't want to hurt my two friends. We have to secretly go see a movie and then come out like we didn't come in and then come back in to meet the other people. Why do we have to hide like this? It's painful to see the person you like surrounded by other girls. It sucks that we cannot even show the slightest interest in him. Like those movies, the parents also like to get in the way. Right now I'm trying to please my dad, who is like rooting for me to be successfull. He is realistic, he wants me to get a job and have a good life. He told me to not think about boys, get a boyfriend, blah blah. And my siblings are the nosy Asians, they like to ask questions, stare down any friend who comes to my house. Sighs. There are just so many factor, than just say lets be together and run away. I wish that was the case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for school, I'm in my 4th year and I don't have a clue what I want to do. My dad is paying for my education and I hate to see him wait and wait for me to get done and do something. I told him I don't know. And I don't know when it will take me to know. I don't want him to wait for me. I can borrow money to pay for my education. He is such a good father, that often time I feel so guilty if I don't try hard enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about body image and selfesteem. What you see is not always what it is. I have my own problems. I am not the most fit person. I get tired just walking up to the third floor. And I don't exercise. I'm always wanting to eat. I feel that I can be better. I feel that guys dont ever talk to me unless I talk to them. it is either that they are not interested or they are afraid of me or something. Am I not friendly? lol. gosh. depressing it is. sometimes i just want to run away and travel and be a bum. if only i have the courage to stand up and say loudly that i quit! that i am over it all. this is why i wont have kids. i dont want to bring anymore human beings into this world. i want to tell my parents, why did they have me.. i mean- i dont want to be here. im tired of being the quiet, laidback, good girl, i dont know person. i want to be sure and step up and just beat the hell of things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7275779486869169368-7795702545685033517?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7795702545685033517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7795702545685033517' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7795702545685033517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7795702545685033517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/04/days-without-guys-day-218.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 218'/><author><name>Che Xanh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08823881642669840088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/TLut-P6_DCI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9HqwR_yAnOE/S220/sakura-wallpaper_800x600.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CCBbl_z5dIk/R4E7rrO8jzI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pQceyz9HDIs/s72-c/che.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7275779486869169368.post-7340921243978049301</id><published>2008-04-09T23:29:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T04:58:52.471-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Without Guys - Day 217</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;i think i finally got the hang of this numbering system partly cause i just count the days after che xinh xa's last post. haha =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, its back to posting about life for all of us. The portal to our life is starting to unfold as the countdown to graduation gets near. Sometimes, I just want to close that portal up and live in denial that we will be on our own soon. No more parents to call at work to buy milk because there's no more in the fridge. Everything will be on our shoulders. If you have weak shoulders, your going to collapse. If you have strong shoulders, how long will it take for you to collapse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life really hasn't taken me anywhere and as I sit and wonder why? The thought bounces back to as to, what I have even done for the river to flow my way? Absolutely nothing. I'm like that person who really tries hard to smile, be all bouncy, and cheery for those around me because if im sad its like the end of the world to some that knows me in person. My friend, once told me, well not once more since it like yesterday haha, that the last thing he wanted to see was me sad since i'm "happy little [che trai cay]." Is that what i really want people to see me as? I really don't openly tell people that i am sad nor want them to get involved with it. Since, honestly I get over things very quickly even if it kills me at that moment but what else can i do but move on? I'm not going to sit at home for like the rest of my life pondering on what went wrong.  I try my best NOT to think of the worse things in life, keep my hopes up. But why doesn't it stay that way? I wake up. I trust. I given it my all. But in the end I'll be the one sitting alone in the dark trying to hold the tears back since all i wanted was to do well at life and in school I want to be accepted for being myself; naturally not so smart person but i try really hard in school, have no musical or athlete drive in me, and contain absolutely nothing "special." If people don't like it then too bad. I'll take my army against theirs. Yeah, thats right. GO DIE. haha. They say being yourself is much better than trying to be what others want you to be, but what about all of those who changes to something their not, into a totally jerkish because they didn't want to be alone. They rather give up themselves to have fake friends who would ditch them for free pizza. Well, not to that extreme but pretty close. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/R_2SBmNtYsI/AAAAAAAAAFg/fHVRpmRlcbI/s1600-h/chetrai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/R_2SBmNtYsI/AAAAAAAAAFg/fHVRpmRlcbI/s400/chetrai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187462901936251586" 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/7275779486869169368-7340921243978049301?l=thedayswithout.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/feeds/7340921243978049301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7275779486869169368&amp;postID=7340921243978049301' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7340921243978049301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7275779486869169368/posts/default/7340921243978049301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedayswithout.blogspot.com/2008/04/days-without-guys-day-217.html' title='The Days Without Guys - Day 217'/><author><name>Che Trai Cay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450283042969694786</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/S_7M28z9TyI/AAAAAAAAAK4/tu2zlsUxlW0/S220/SL384604.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_ycTvyxYNl2k/R_2SBmNtYsI/AAAAAAAAAFg/fHVRpmRlcbI/s72-c/chetrai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
