<?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-6938622122333953371</id><updated>2011-12-29T23:14:45.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wh??</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>64</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-3200429353098921060</id><published>2011-09-03T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T12:24:56.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I turning to a bad person??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Csjarrar%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Csjarrar%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Csjarrar%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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/* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;	mso-style-noshow:yes;	mso-style-priority:99;	mso-style-qformat:yes;	mso-style-parent:"";	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;	mso-para-margin-top:0in;	mso-para-margin-right:0in;	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;	mso-para-margin-left:0in;	line-height:115%;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:11.0pt;	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}&lt;/style&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One thing I know for sure is thatI’m not the same person I used to be. The things used to please me don’t anymore.Happiness that used to fill my heart when hearing good news about others isgone, not to mention not being able to sympathy with others sorrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZLODyxQ-df0/TmJ-xkHx0YI/AAAAAAAAAPI/dsF6pgcAamQ/s1600/istockphoto_9528807-devil-and-angel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="252" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZLODyxQ-df0/TmJ-xkHx0YI/AAAAAAAAAPI/dsF6pgcAamQ/s320/istockphoto_9528807-devil-and-angel.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No excuse I know, but is itpossible that the amount of grief I have deep inside just can’t let me liveothers life?? Am I jealous of other’s success and happiness? Never thought aday will come and not being happy for a friend when getting engaged, or havinga baby. &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Going to pay respect for thedeath of a friend’s father and going out to celebrate my birthday the samenight was something I never imagined doing..never!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Living the neutral status is theworst, it is like living and not living, as Amro dyab says..lol ..and thetruth, I miss the days where I had happy tears in others weddings, wishing themtruly a cheerful life. I miss not being forced to fake compassion and drawingartificial happy/sad face, I really miss those days, but I guess I don’t havethe energy to be sad for others, my misery is more than enough, and I can’t behappy&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;for other, it is time to be happyfor myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I used to be a calm polite person, trusting others, and give them the benefit of doubts, and now..getting angry for the silliest reasons,&amp;nbsp; and doubting every thing/ one around me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It is not that I wish bad thingsfor people, but I do wish good things to myself, I deserve good things.. I reallydo!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3200429353098921060?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3200429353098921060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3200429353098921060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3200429353098921060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3200429353098921060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2011/09/am-i-turning-to-bad-person.html' title='Am I turning to a bad person??'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/-ZLODyxQ-df0/TmJ-xkHx0YI/AAAAAAAAAPI/dsF6pgcAamQ/s72-c/istockphoto_9528807-devil-and-angel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-204067406208980664</id><published>2009-10-18T02:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T02:24:09.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Despite of all what have been said…</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Amany my Love,&lt;br /&gt;Amany my Friend…&lt;br /&gt;Never thought I'd lost you…&lt;br /&gt;And how much you'd be missed…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You promised with a visit…&lt;br /&gt;Sadly your promise hadn't been met…&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll forgive you…&lt;br /&gt;But no…I can't forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No emails from you,&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention the greetings that you never forget…&lt;br /&gt;Have you lost my address??&lt;br /&gt;Or am I out of your list??&lt;br /&gt;My cousin I miss your jocks…&lt;br /&gt;I miss emails to be sent…&lt;br /&gt;With you, I love to talk…&lt;br /&gt;And highly enjoy to connect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for every thing,&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the lessons I have learnt…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To seize the moment,&lt;br /&gt;if not…feel the guilt.&lt;br /&gt;Always say what is in my mind,&lt;br /&gt;And never feel the regret.&lt;br /&gt;Be generous indeed,&lt;br /&gt;Not as the others pretend.&lt;br /&gt;Give away dollars,&lt;br /&gt;Like people do with a cent.&lt;br /&gt;Lend a hand to the needy,&lt;br /&gt;And never wait for an Aid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our bond will go on…&lt;br /&gt;It will last till the end…&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace my dear,&lt;br /&gt;May Allah our prayers accept&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-204067406208980664?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/204067406208980664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=204067406208980664&amp;isPopup=true' title='42 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/204067406208980664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/204067406208980664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/despite-of-all-what-have-been-said.html' title='Despite of all what have been said…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>42</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-8797458254443887814</id><published>2009-10-15T01:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T01:04:09.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Till we meet…Rest in peace my love…</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;An awesome man we have lost…&lt;br /&gt;A great man he has been…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An uncle you can't but to love…&lt;br /&gt;The kindest you have ever seen…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chivalry &amp;amp; wisdom in his blood….&lt;br /&gt;On him you can keen…&lt;br /&gt;His judgment you shall trust…&lt;br /&gt;And you will never be deceived…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bright &amp;amp; witty with guts&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention he was lean…&lt;br /&gt;Firm full of love&lt;br /&gt;For the family was like a dean...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His laughter I have loved…&lt;br /&gt;Asking to hear when he is in the scene&lt;br /&gt;If not answered I'd be Stunned&lt;br /&gt;For how bighearted he was, even more than what it seemed…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His death was a shock…&lt;br /&gt;It has never been foreseen&lt;br /&gt;It is like being hit with a rock…&lt;br /&gt;And hence a tremendous pain is revealed…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saying Goodbye is a must&lt;br /&gt;But never thought how hard could it be&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace my love…&lt;br /&gt;Though it's harsh to believe you are deceased&lt;br /&gt;Our mourning will never end…&lt;br /&gt;At least… until in heaven we meet…&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-8797458254443887814?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8797458254443887814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8797458254443887814&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8797458254443887814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8797458254443887814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/till-we-meetrest-in-peace-my-love.html' title='Till we meet…Rest in peace my love…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-8323768094347904416</id><published>2009-10-14T02:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T01:14:00.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My sweet cousin is not here any more!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;My lovable Rasha is an angel you can call…&lt;br /&gt;With an eye glimpse…&lt;br /&gt;She passed away in the Faull…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest bride we were all waiting for…&lt;br /&gt;Got her white gown fitted …&lt;br /&gt;To be picked upon a call…&lt;br /&gt;May she rest in peace…&lt;br /&gt;May Allah bless her soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last time we talked, an invitation I have received&lt;br /&gt;To attend a wedding…&lt;br /&gt;In which she had always dreamed…&lt;br /&gt;This wedding I'll miss…&lt;br /&gt;And I have no choice to be deemed…&lt;br /&gt;In heaven it will be held…&lt;br /&gt;And she'll pick the fruits of her seed…&lt;br /&gt;That's our prayer&lt;br /&gt;And on Allah's acceptance we keen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the day that her shower party was planned to be held…May Allah bless her soul with peace and mercy…and give us patience.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-8323768094347904416?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8323768094347904416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8323768094347904416&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8323768094347904416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8323768094347904416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-sweet-cousin-is-not-here-any-more.html' title='My sweet cousin is not here any more!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-6296081375258613310</id><published>2009-10-07T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T23:03:36.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is her birthday today!!</title><content type='html'>Today is her birthday, a woman that is hard not to be loved. Full of kindness, tender as no one else, can give you the warmest hug you could ever dream with, her smile can blow off your sorrow and pain, her love is so pure…so true…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say I look like her, in the way I look, in the way I act with, a diplomatic smart person, loving the others, willing to forgive and find excuses to their mistakes, strong and can stand through the hard times, lead and guide…and give you energy to go on… they say I'm so similar to her…but from my point view…no.. She is way far better than me.. She is way far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is her first birthday after passing away, can't get her smile and laugh from my head, can't stop thinking of her last time she was here, shopping for her granddaughter…she was so happy…her 2 sons were to get married after she had dreamed with that day since ever…her daughter may she R.I.P,  is to get engaged.. and her first girl grandchild is in the way…she was giving love, effort, time and money to make all of them happy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allah er7mek ya 3amtee….Allah er7amek ya 7abebtee…you will never be forgotten.. lucky you.. all the ppl love you…wish I were like you…Rest in peace my dear…Rest in peace my love…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-6296081375258613310?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6296081375258613310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6296081375258613310&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6296081375258613310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6296081375258613310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-is-her-birthday-today.html' title='It is her birthday today!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-3136585124338472938</id><published>2009-10-06T03:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T03:06:34.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One month had passed!!</title><content type='html'>Strange how our sense of days differs when it comes to tragic accidents. One month had passed on their passing away, yet I still feel so in pain, as if it was yesterday. Yes we are all trying to move on, but things will never be the same, we are still unable to believe it, to live with it, and get used to the horrible idea, that we all know is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how death comes in a way that you never expect, it comes to ppl that you took their existence in your life for granted, and you never thought what your life would be if they are not there…and out of the sudden, it happens…and reaction is just un-controllable!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got use to the fact that Allah had decided to make our lives not easy, and being a believer, thanking Allah and accepting his decision for that is the only we do, but nevertheless, this time it reached even a higher level of hardiness, but again thanks to Allah, who tests the faith of his beloveds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loosing five of my family in that way was not that easy, a shocking devastating experience could be an even underestimating description to the experience we went through. But again we thank Allah because we trust his wisdom, and that he chooses the best for us, even if we don't understand how that could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is raining outside, I used to think, it is not right to say that the sky is crying over someone who died, but when it happens now, the same day they died…I can't stop thinking, yes.. it is crying over my beloved family, and my only prayer is that May Allah rest their souls in peace, and give them forgiveness…and may Allah ease it on us, and give us patience and ability to forget and overcome pain and sorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3136585124338472938?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3136585124338472938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3136585124338472938&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3136585124338472938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3136585124338472938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-month-had-passed.html' title='One month had passed!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-3029756261942577891</id><published>2009-10-05T01:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T01:44:54.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We miss big things!!</title><content type='html'>It keeps coming and going into my mind, why do I write about silly things that happen in my life and forget, or even avoid writing about the major things, the most important things?? Up to now I do not know the answer, I wonder if I am going to find it one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how accidents and tragedies change us, in a way we never thought it will…some times it turn to be good, since it improved an aspect of our lives, sob7an Allah, there is a good thing in whatever happens for the believer…may Allah count us with those, and forgive us for our mistakes and faults.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3029756261942577891?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3029756261942577891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3029756261942577891&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3029756261942577891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3029756261942577891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-miss-big-things.html' title='We miss big things!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-4701451214057571188</id><published>2009-10-04T01:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T01:44:13.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even when we develop technology, we still lack the mentality…</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I went to pay the tickets on my car, this is not the first time to go there, to say the truth, I like that department, since even though it is a governmental department, but yet, the service provided is good, and highly satisfactory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite of my general satisfaction, I failed not to note something, which is even that we developed technologies, and we are using them, yet we fail to embrace the idea behind that development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entering the building, and knowing there is a queuing system, I headed to take a number, and I found an employee standing next to it, to give you a number, I thought, the system is made to reduce the human factor in the process, in a way that will cut costs and time, never the less, they dedicated an employee to do it, with an excuse that not all the ppl know how to use it. The system costs money, and it should be designed in a way that enables every one to use it, so if we need an employee to do it, why to pay such a mount of money for nothing in return??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my work place, we have recently invested in a security system, that controls the entrance and exit of the building, this system had cost the institution hundreds of thousands, honestly. Today, in the morning, I came so early, and stopped at the parking gate, since they have not programmed the employees' cards till now, the gate would not open, until one of the guards come, and open it with his card, and I had to wait for him, just because we have no access cards to open it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing to say, there is no problem if you do not have it, but if you have it and you are not utilizing it, then it is a big problem, I could say it is a tragedy…it is never in the technology, it is in the mentality…we should start with how we think, then go to the part of doing things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: i forgot to me mention that even though there was a queuing system, ppl chose to stand on line, lol...they just can not change the way they want thier things done!! so strange..so funny!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-4701451214057571188?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4701451214057571188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4701451214057571188&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4701451214057571188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4701451214057571188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/even-when-we-develop-technology-we.html' title='Even when we develop technology, we still lack the mentality…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-5048874994938741208</id><published>2009-10-01T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T00:22:29.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The benefit of lacking luck...</title><content type='html'>I am not that type of person who complains about lacking luck in life, I keen on the believe that we make life, and not the opposite. Despite of that, I have to admit, that I know that I'm not a lucky person, but I really don't care about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one is entirely lucky, it is always relative. Successful ppl managed to get advantage of their luck combined with their hard work. But some ppl are luckier than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being unlucky motivates me to work harder, this is the way I like to think of it. Nowadays, I'm really going through a crisis of trust, even though I tried to re-trust ppl, and re-build the confidence in the goodness in them, but more and more I lost believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always believed that you should treat the ppl the way you wish to be treated, and what you offer today, you will be given to you the next day, but life had shown me lately that I have been mistaken, ppl just act according to their nature, regardless the way you treat them with, a mean person will always be mean, whatever you do to him, and a kind person will be kind cuz kindness is his nature. Changing ppl's nature is not an easy thing to do, it needs great efforts and endless patience, and yet results are rarely guaranteed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some ppl are just lucky, they offer nothing, yet receive lots of care and love. Ppl just offer them help, love, support and any possible delights to make their lives even easier. I guess even in that luck is not in my side. It is not like I'm claiming that I'm an angel with no mistakes, but I honestly know that I am not a bad person, I'm a friend that you can count on, a sister that you will always find next to your side, a girl that will forgive and pass on things to make life go on, and a person will always willingly offer you serious help even if you have hurt me before, despite all of that...no one is there when I need them, they are waiting for a silly mistake to be made and highlight it as if it is a crime, and forgiveness is not in their dictionary .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of that, I realized that the only one I should trust is Allah and the only ppl I should care about are my parents, and whenever I make something good, I will make to the sake of Allah and no one, nothing else. Allah will always be on my side, he will never let me down, and he is the only one I can trust and depend on this life. Luck will be affectless when it comes to relationship with Allah, we decide the shape and nature of that relationship, and I have decided to make it a strong one. May Allah help me, and be on my side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-5048874994938741208?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/5048874994938741208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=5048874994938741208&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5048874994938741208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5048874994938741208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/10/benefit-of-lacking-luck.html' title='The benefit of lacking luck...'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-2044119221106087090</id><published>2009-09-28T03:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T03:07:05.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Is it me…or them!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing it so frequently, going through it over and over makes me really wonder, is it me or the others? Is it me who expects a lot, and consider the others are not giving me what I deserve, or is it me who gives more than I should do, and expects the same thing in return? Am I really who stands upside down, or the world is??&lt;br /&gt; Each time, a person whom I consider to be a friend hurts me, I just try to find an excuse, and justify what he/she has done. I just keep on forgiving and passing on their mistakes, hoping that they did not mean it, and that they will not do it again. I always consider the good well behind their actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think it may be me, who is mistaken, and if I could, I take the advice of unbiased person, to make sure that I did nothing wrong, and if I found it was my fault, apology is what I do with no hesitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought not finding the ppl I considered to be my friends next to me when needed is such a killing feeling, I have never seen that day coming, I counted on the saying that life is an echo for our actions, and thought I will get the support I provided over and over to those ppl. But it seems I have been mistaken, extremely mistaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how someone you consider as your best friend, and you ready to do every thing you could do to help, and one day, you discover it was a one way feeling, it is one side giving relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is that you get surprised by ppl you thought you mean nothing to them, they show you their concern once you need it, and they offer you help, that you expected from others, but never found it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I thank life that shows me the real sides of ppl, or should I hate myself for believing in good in ppl? Should I stop being me? Should I stop thinking of others, and start to care only about me?? Really don't know the answers, but what I know is that I stopped feeling happy or sad for ppl, I even started to wish ppl will go through the misery I'm living, really hate ppl, and have no trust in others…. And what I know is that this is not me!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-2044119221106087090?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/2044119221106087090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=2044119221106087090&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2044119221106087090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2044119221106087090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/09/is-it-meor-them-seeing-it-so-frequently.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-9042933479675208291</id><published>2009-09-28T02:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T02:09:14.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;على الغالي دور&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يا ناصح يللي تتباهى بزكاءك&lt;br /&gt;مش كل اللي بلمع دهب&lt;br /&gt;ولا كل الجواهر معروضالك&lt;br /&gt;بُص كويس يمكن تشوف إيه اللي أُدامك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الدنيا ديه فترينة&lt;br /&gt;فيها الناس متزوءالك&lt;br /&gt;اشي أصفر....اشي أبيض&lt;br /&gt;وأشياء جميلة .... بكل الألوان متلونالك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بس حاسب يا بني...ومتتغرش&lt;br /&gt;الفترينة ديه ليك....ولكل أصحابك&lt;br /&gt;الرخيص فيها معروض&lt;br /&gt;والغالي مداري بعيد عن أنظارك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;دور على تاجر ما يغشش&lt;br /&gt;ويديك جوهرة متخبية بس عشانك&lt;br /&gt;شايلها في خزنة&lt;br /&gt;ومفتاحها- إن كنت شاطر- يمكن يبأ من املاكك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بس اعرف يا بني&lt;br /&gt;طريأك طويلة ويمكن تكون بالأشواك مزروعالك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;حتتعب شوية&lt;br /&gt;لكن إن وصلت، ده طاءة القدر بئت مفتوحالك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ده كنز علي بابا بين ايديك&lt;br /&gt;أكيد الست الوالدة كانت دايما دعيالك!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فابسط يا عم وعلى الكنز حافظ&lt;br /&gt;وشوف ازاي حتتغير حياتك&lt;br /&gt;ده انت الغالي اخترت&lt;br /&gt;فيا عم....هنيالك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أما إن كنت ع الرخيص دورت&lt;br /&gt;فتستاهل كل اللي يجرالك!!&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/6938622122333953371-9042933479675208291?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/9042933479675208291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=9042933479675208291&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/9042933479675208291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/9042933479675208291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-3699282191001697641</id><published>2009-05-14T03:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T03:04:29.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ما أجمل ملاكاًً.. أن تكون&lt;br /&gt;تنام قرير العين هنيء الجفون&lt;br /&gt;فأنت للناس مساعدٌ&lt;br /&gt;ولست عن أذية أحدهم بمسؤول&lt;br /&gt;لكن الدنيا دون بقاء الحال دائماً تحول&lt;br /&gt;ففيها من هم للملائكة كارهون&lt;br /&gt;يزرعون الحقد.... وفي المحبة يشككون&lt;br /&gt;و بالاجحاد والإنكار... المعروفَ يقابلون&lt;br /&gt;وللأسف... هم في حياة الجميع يمرون&lt;br /&gt;وحيث أنك ملاكٌ&lt;br /&gt;فإنهم بتصرفاتهم معك لك صادمون&lt;br /&gt;فتقف للحظة....&lt;br /&gt;ألخطأ مني...أم هم الخاطئون؟؟&lt;br /&gt;أمسارك ما يحتاج لتعديل....&lt;br /&gt;أم هم من لمسارهم سيعدلون&lt;br /&gt;لكن الله..... رازق المال والبنون&lt;br /&gt;لا يرضى أن يكون أنصارُ الشر هم المنتصرون&lt;br /&gt;فسبحانه.... يرسل مَن للإيمان... يجددون&lt;br /&gt;وللأمل والخير هم ناشرون&lt;br /&gt;فإن كانت نيتك إرضاءُ عَاِلم ُ السر المكنون&lt;br /&gt;فافعل المعروف في أهله وفي غير أهله&lt;br /&gt;لعل بعض الشياطين لملائكة يتحولون&lt;br /&gt;ولا تنسى أن تختار...&lt;br /&gt;أشيطاناً أم ملاكاً تود أن تكون!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3699282191001697641?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3699282191001697641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3699282191001697641&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3699282191001697641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3699282191001697641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-3061810544551742256</id><published>2008-11-14T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T11:22:30.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Really not my day!!</title><content type='html'>Today was a day that I can freely say it is not my day. In the morning, I could not sleep, even though it is Friday, and I slept very late, going out for a walk, something broke in the car, did not take it into consideration, after that, the same distance I walk all the time took me much longer time to be finished, after getting back, making a soup, I got my hand cut, slight and superficial, but I still think it may need a stitch…I should have took the msg by that time, but I did not, I just went out with friends, and  to finish a great day, I chose to leave car lights on, to have dead battery when deciding to go home by taxi!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure it did not end here, it is the words I had to hear from dad….and how I should not have gone out from the 1st place…and how often he told me to switch the lights off…the internet connection is no difference, it is the million time I tried to connect, don't know if it is going to work eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not my day at all, but thanks to Allah it may have been worse!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3061810544551742256?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3061810544551742256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3061810544551742256&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3061810544551742256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3061810544551742256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/11/really-not-my-day.html' title='Really not my day!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-8345908899389516969</id><published>2008-10-25T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T15:05:18.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lana..a great writer</title><content type='html'>I'v read this articl and loved it as I do each time I read fro Lana, I wonder if I re-read this again after several years how my feeling will be, hope it differs....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أحزان!&lt;br /&gt;د.لانا مامكغ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="var img=document['fpAnimswapImgFP36'];img.imgRolln=img.src;img.src=img.lowsrc?img.lowsrc:img.getAttribute?img.getAttribute('lowsrc'):img.src;" onmouseout="document['fpAnimswapImgFP36'].src=document['fpAnimswapImgFP36'].imgRolln" href="javascript:printWindow();"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="var img=document['fpAnimswapImgFP35'];img.imgRolln=img.src;img.src=img.lowsrc?img.lowsrc:img.getAttribute?img.getAttribute('lowsrc'):img.src;" onmouseout="document['fpAnimswapImgFP35'].src=document['fpAnimswapImgFP35'].imgRolln" href="javascript:saveWindow();"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="var img=document['fpAnimswapImgFP34'];img.imgRolln=img.src;img.src=img.lowsrc?img.lowsrc:img.getAttribute?img.getAttribute('lowsrc'):img.src;" onmouseout="document['fpAnimswapImgFP34'].src=document['fpAnimswapImgFP34'].imgRolln" href="javascript:emailWindow();"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="var img=document['fpAnimswapImgFP33'];img.imgRolln=img.src;img.src=img.lowsrc?img.lowsrc:img.getAttribute?img.getAttribute('lowsrc'):img.src;" onmouseout="document['fpAnimswapImgFP33'].src=document['fpAnimswapImgFP33'].imgRolln" href="http://www.abouna.org/Details.aspx?tp=7&amp;amp;id=978#Gallery"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="ctl00_ContentPlaceHolder2_lightBoxLink" title=" " href="http://www.abouna.org/DataGallery/20089221161722/Abouna.jpg" rel="lightbox[roadtrip]"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المرأة قلباً وعقلاً وشخصية&lt;br /&gt;جريدة الرأي الأردنية&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تجاوزتُ سن الثلاثين... تجاوزت إشارة مرور كان يتوجب عليّ الوقوف عندها طويلاً... أرقب التقويم السنوي بقلق، تؤرقني السنوات الهاربة... متعبة أنا من الانتظار، انتظار الذي لم يأت بعد، ولا أحسبه سيأتي لاحقاً...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عزباء ولست جميلة... حقيقة قرأتها دائماً في عيون الآخرين، من عائلة متوسطة محافظة، تعليمي متوسط، وأعمل في وظيفة متوسطة الدخل... مساحة باهتة من الأشياء اسمها الوسط! حلمت طويلاً بتجربة حب، لكني لم أملك الجرأة أو الاستعداد لخوضها، أو لأقل بصدق، لم يحدث أن تلقّيت دعوة حب من أي كان... وعليه، فالجميع يشيدون بأخلاقي وفضائلي واستقامتي! قلت لنفسي: مزايا كفيلة بتشجيع أحدهم للارتباط بي، لكن ذلك لم يحدث... ثم قلت: لن أستسلم لعقدة شكلي، المرأة ليست قالباً وحسب، بل قلباً وعقلاً وشخصية، لذلك اهتممت بثقافتي، وملأت قلبي بالمحبة للناس والدنيا... كنت مُدركة أني مؤهلة لمشاعر النقص... فواجهت مشكلتي بجرأة، وتجاوزتها، وعقدت سلاماً مع العالم!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كل هذا والسنوات تمر، تهرب، تفر كفراشات شقيّة!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أتقنت كل ما يلزم أن تتقنه امرأة، الحياكة، الطهو، الزراعة المنزلية، وقرأت كثيراً عن الأطفال وعلم نفس الطفولة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أما عروض الزواج التي تلقيتها وأتلقاها فتحدث كما يلي: تعلن عن حالة طوارىء في بيتنا منذ تلقي خبر الزيارة، زيارة جمع من النسوة، أقارب العريس طبعاً، يترتب علي أن أجالسهن لأتيح لهن مشاهدتي... وأستسلم لعيون تراقبني، تحدّق بي، تخترقني... أعيش دقائق جهنمية حتى تنتهي الزيارة، لأجلس في انتظار الرد... ولم يحدث أن تلقيت رداً، كنّ يخرجن ولا يعدن ليعلن رسوبي في امتحان لا أعرف وسيلة الاستعداد له... ولا كيفية النجاح فيه!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تمضي الأيام، وكل زيارة من تلك الزيارات تقتل فيّ شيئاً من إنسانيتي، وبعضاً من ثقتي بنفسي وبالحياة!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ربي، لست أحلم سوى بزوج وبيت وأطفال... ربي أتراني أطلب الكثير؟.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ربي، يقولون إن الجميلات تعيسات في حياتهن... هل سألوا أنفسهم يوماً عن تعاسة غير الجميلات؟. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-8345908899389516969?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8345908899389516969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8345908899389516969&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8345908899389516969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8345908899389516969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/10/lanaa-great-writer.html' title='Lana..a great writer'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-6956982888567666199</id><published>2008-09-22T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T00:56:48.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And life goes on...this time it is up..thanks to Allah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many things happened lately in my life, and I had no time to write&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/SNdPgtODy3I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Ag9Doaid0yQ/s1600-h/sb10067378dv-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248751314036575090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="241" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/SNdPgtODy3I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Ag9Doaid0yQ/s320/sb10067378dv-001.jpg" width="241" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; it down, but looking back at things I wrote before, I thought the things I am going through worth to be documented.&lt;br /&gt;Last month I turned 28, and this time, I was not that depressed at my birthday as I usually be, the main reason is that I have achieved up to 70% of my annual goals, I have lost some weight, I wore a skirt in my birthday.. :D and I have started my masters program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, even though these were silly things to care about, but they made big change in my life, it made me not afraid of meeting any one from my university batch, fearing from being asked about the things I'm doing in my life, and what accomplishments are added to my social life and career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day I ran into one of the girls, I was proud when she mentioned that I'm looking good, and that she respects that I'm aiming at higher education, I know that many did….but this time it was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Allah, mom finished the chemo therapy, what is lift supposed to be easier and we are hoping not to suffer again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been almost a year, I can't take the subject of my head, I started.. -the truth I lost- hope of any progress, but I could not stop praying to Allah, that if it is a good thing, please to bring it closer ASAP, and if there is any thing bad about it, please keep it away. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/SNdO_mIG-rI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/wpRroTvlutQ/s1600-h/sb10069475y-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248750745196886706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="262" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/SNdO_mIG-rI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/wpRroTvlutQ/s320/sb10069475y-001.jpg" width="165" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I stood by an article by a writer I enjoy reading for her, Lana Mamkagh, she summarized my life and many other girl's lives in a short article, I like her way in talking about reality, simple, true, and still very deep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the 22nd of Ramadan, and it is almost EID, this night I couldn't sleep well, after s7oor I stayed awake. .thoughts and thoughts, wish Allah will answer my prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting back to study is somehow wired, I feel like lost, even though it is the same university, but every thing changed…I guess I need some time to adjust. &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/6938622122333953371-6956982888567666199?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6956982888567666199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6956982888567666199&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6956982888567666199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6956982888567666199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-life-goes-onthis-time-it-is.html' title='And life goes on...this time it is up..thanks to Allah'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/SNdPgtODy3I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Ag9Doaid0yQ/s72-c/sb10067378dv-001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-3579313388013696043</id><published>2008-07-06T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T11:23:18.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No expectations, no disappointments, so why???</title><content type='html'>The worst characteristic I have is that I know the right from wrong, and still skip the good and stick to the bad!! I know I should eat less, exercise more, I know that I must have a better relationship with Allah and parents, I know I should work harder and smarter, and still I don't do what I already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I became a strong believer in the saying "No expectations, no disappointments", and I started to work on that basis, expecting nothing in life. The problem is that it takes me only seconds to get hope back combined with the unwanted consequences including disappointments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I like the spirit I have, where I just give up so easy on losing hope, but the other times, I just wish that I stop expecting things from life, and most important….from people, and by that I save myself lots of troubles and pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; P.S. I do hate people who let their children get their heads or bodies out of the cars while driving, I just can't understand how do they think? How could they imagine that by doing this  they are making their child happy, and despite all of the warnings how dangerous this is, they keep doing it…strange and stupid!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3579313388013696043?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3579313388013696043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3579313388013696043&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3579313388013696043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3579313388013696043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-expectations-no-disappointments-so.html' title='No expectations, no disappointments, so why???'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-8261362330984851929</id><published>2008-06-19T02:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:55.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts…..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Getting back to the routine of walking, many thoughts, random thoughts fly here and there, and I guess butting it on paper- if I can say so- make it easier to forgot about it and move on….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have mentioned it, I enjoy walking; it is a great way to spend sometime with yourself, thinking of the things that happen with you or sometimes do nothing but walking. But what I really enjoy more, is watching ppl making sport, walking, pla&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/SFotsSsqQ7I/AAAAAAAAAJs/vI74L88U-TY/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213529757591421874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="170" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/SFotsSsqQ7I/AAAAAAAAAJs/vI74L88U-TY/s320/1.jpg" width="317" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ying football, and even kids running after each other. I think of it that there r some ppl who are doing a healthy thing after all, going to the gym is not the same, I think of going to the gym as a duty, you have to it, and the fun part is not there any more…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a huge responsibility in the last 3 months, but in a way, it is a good chance to know the capabilities we have, the one we don't even know we enjoy. Being the eldest, the largest portion of responsibility was my share. Now I know that I can manage a family, since I was capable of managing a big family…I CAN COOK after all!! And I guess the lesson gained here is: "what does not break you, strengths you"!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I have tried an engagement dress, a red one…and now I can't get it out of my mind, resisting going and buying and keeping it in the closet to the time it is needed for. I liked it, the color, the simple delicate model and above all, the fact it fits me, finally I found an engagement dress that fits my size and looks nice…lol. Late at the same evening, passing by a jewelry store, I chose an engagement ring….now it is the groom who is left…lol…I think the hard part is done and the easy part what is left..:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many great songs I enjoy these times, Carol's song Yama Layale is sooooooooo nice, I could not stop myself from dancing when hearing it, Ma hma t2olo for Wa2el Jssar is full of cute, innocent childish emotions, the greatest is Shireen's songs, bi kelma menak, and batamenak….so great in shifting you to a higher level of romance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-8261362330984851929?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8261362330984851929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8261362330984851929&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8261362330984851929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8261362330984851929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/06/random-thoughts.html' title='Random thoughts…..'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/SFotsSsqQ7I/AAAAAAAAAJs/vI74L88U-TY/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-6424582219957310640</id><published>2008-04-28T04:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T04:15:28.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So confused, so in pain…</title><content type='html'>The last month had been a month in hell; I wish all the pain ends as this month does. The last week I reached the peak of pain curve, being so impatient to know the result, made of me a very sad, and stressed person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that mom has breast cancer was a shocking news for all of us, I admit that it had never crossed my mind that mom could have something like that, or any one in the family could, but it seems that I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom did make the operation last week, the most painful moment was when mom went out of the operations room to the recovery room, me and my sister just couldn't breath. After spending 2 hrs in the recovery room with her, most of the time crying and trying to hide tears, mom was taken to her room, I started to calm down my sister, aunt, and every one …so hard to stop yourself from crying….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The result will come out today…we are waiting, praying the treatment needed be the least possible.. ya rab…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coming days will not be easy, starting the chemo therapy, will not be easy…and I really need to be strong, for mom, sisters and even dad…very true…"The hardest thing to do is to smile, in time you need to cry"…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-6424582219957310640?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6424582219957310640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6424582219957310640&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6424582219957310640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6424582219957310640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-confused-so-in-pain.html' title='So confused, so in pain…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-7498859070265645068</id><published>2008-03-12T04:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T04:06:01.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uniform gets into me!!</title><content type='html'>I have this weakness point toward guys in uniform!! I like their looks, and don't know I guess the uniform gives them a charismatic look and a very respectful appearance.&lt;br /&gt;When talking about uniform, I generally mean the people in the force: police, army, sometimes doctors, but above all pilots.&lt;br /&gt;I remember that I was so amazed by a movie:  "Catch me if you can", Leo was more than great, I loved him, I loved his intelligence, his way in manipulating others, and most of all, his look in the pilot suit. I have to admit that I like this actor, but I liked him even more when he played that role.&lt;br /&gt;The truth is that I like to see people wearing uniform, for example, I can't think of stewardess wearing different thing from her coworker, it is a very good indication of the lake of professionalism. Yes I think of uniform as a way to show how professional you are. Up to now the only uniform I had to wear was the school uniform, and I recall that I did not like it at that time. The strange thing is that even though I like uniform on others, I think I'm not that ready to wear it each day and go to work!!&lt;br /&gt;The bottom line here is…when I see a pilot, policeman, or a lady wearing army uniform .. it makes my day!! Yesterday was one of the good days…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: as I do sometimes, almost a year ago, I had chosen randomly a day and specified that it is going to be a big day. I don't why I do that, but I do. Starting the early morning, I prepared myself for a good thing to happen, and I decided to have a very nice day whatever happens. Nothing unusual happened, but I succeeded in having a nice, cheerful day. I guess the good thing about yesterday was the lesson that I used to believe in, it has been revived with a stronger believes that you decide and control how you live life, by choosing the perspective from which you look at things. A lesson that helped me in choosing to have another big day.. nice week.. cheerful month.. and even a superior life!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-7498859070265645068?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/7498859070265645068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=7498859070265645068&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7498859070265645068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7498859070265645068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/03/uniform-gets-into-me.html' title='Uniform gets into me!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-7987436015063984572</id><published>2008-03-10T01:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T01:46:54.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things happen for a reason, happen when you least expect them!!</title><content type='html'>I am a believer, I always have been, but yesterday, was, as I think, a big test of my faith. Yesterday as I was in my office, the office Clark came and told me that a small rock came from the street, hit my car and the rare window had been broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To tell the truth I was not upset, I know I should have been, but the only thing was in my mind, Thank you Allah I was not in it. I had to go to the police station to report the accident, where they sent me to the headquarter, in my way I went and changed, then went to get the report and went to the insurance company to arrange to fix the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After almost 2 hrs, I went home, ate my lunch and went to sleep. I was somehow feeling strange, I should be upset, but I'm not, I just couldn't care less, yes I felt sorry for what happened, but not upset, at the opposite, I was kind of happy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the 4th time I go to the police station, lol, and all because of the car, the strange thing is that each time, it happens when I'm away or standing still. As I was in the police station, every one was there looking and talking about me, winks started to fly all over the place, as if it is the first time to see a lady in the police station!! I really feel uncomfortable to go to such places not because it is wrong, but because of the looks they give to me when I'm there. Thanks to Allah I'm done with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Allah, that's all what I can think of, thanks for the minor losses, but thanks more for the believe I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-7987436015063984572?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/7987436015063984572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=7987436015063984572&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7987436015063984572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7987436015063984572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/03/things-happen-for-reason-happen-when.html' title='Things happen for a reason, happen when you least expect them!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-6700534699834790289</id><published>2008-03-06T00:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T00:49:15.784-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God has his own mysterious ways in answering us</title><content type='html'>That night I went to sleep and the thought of having a baby in my life was controlling , I could not stop thinking of it, yes I want a baby of my own, to hold and play with, to gaze at the sweetest smile, and feel the greatest touch ever. I prayed to have a baby in my life, and I even cried while thinking of that, I guess what really got into me was my best friend's baby birthday, it moved my feelings, and I could not go there cause I know I wont be able to hide and control my feelings, I really love her, and love her daughter and wish the best, but I wish to experience the feeling, I wish to be mom.  That day, one of my friends gave birth to her child, and as a reply to my greetings to her and to her husband, I got.."3o2bal 3endek".. I was thinking…yah.. I guess I need to find the father first!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I was in the French class, and we were playing this game, that you have to answer the questions without saying yes or no, so I had been asked: "Do you have kids?" so I was like.." I wish", and the whole class laughed, I guess it was the unconscious mind that has the control over that answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any way, the very next day after that night, a friend of mine, her daughter had some troubles, and they had to take her to the hospital, and I went to visit her, they were making tests and they had to take sample from her spinal cord liquid, it is a painful procedure, she started to scream, and we had to stay out of the room, her mom started to cry, and for sure I did that too. Thanks Allah, three days later the girl got better and now she is doing fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, I hated the idea of having a baby, with a possibility of getting sick and not to be able to help and to feel so weak in front that situation…the idea just creeps me… at that moment… I knew that this is God's answer for me questioning about having a baby…&lt;br /&gt; Three years exactly since the story had started, three years of thinking of the whole thing daily, not one single day without thinking of what happened. I promised myself  day after day to stop thinking, to move on, and I'll get the answer one day, and the mystery will be solved by itself, but no, nothing happened, and I'm still waiting, really I wish to know what happened, what went wrong, and stop thinking of  the song that fits the situation. Right now, Rania's Al Kurdi song "kalemtak kteer" fits the most …but I really wish that med7at sale7 song: "ana mesh b3eed" is the scenario the applies to this story. I guess I have to wait…and learn how to let things go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-6700534699834790289?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6700534699834790289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6700534699834790289&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6700534699834790289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6700534699834790289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/03/god-has-his-own-mysterious-ways-in.html' title='God has his own mysterious ways in answering us'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-4155951446989815464</id><published>2008-02-28T04:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:56.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies I watched lately</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been ages since I have watched movies, I mean to put a DVD and play it. The latest movies were able to change my mood, and they even changed my facebook status, and here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy feet….&lt;br /&gt;What an amazing movie!! Full of energy, love, creativity and extremely dynamic and profound. The greatest massage was, how unwanted feature or difference could be fought and resisted just because it is not the way people are used to, and unexpectedly it becomes the way for salvation. I enjoyed the movie to the max. and truly it successfully changed my mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note Book…&lt;br /&gt;It has been in my drawer since ever, I was not that enthusiastic about watching it, but when it was played, I enjoyed the tremendous passion it has. The endless love that the person would die to have in life. The unbelievable look he has when checking her. And how life takes us on different roads and still whatever is written to you will happen eventually. Finally, I liked the fact that no obstacle could stand on the face of true love. Yes this is the love we are all fancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wa7ed men el nas… &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R8ak01zCICI/AAAAAAAAAJk/8zbsEbt-hSk/s1600-h/wahed_men_elnas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172002449782874146" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="300" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R8ak01zCICI/AAAAAAAAAJk/8zbsEbt-hSk/s320/wahed_men_elnas.jpg" width="227" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kareem Abd El Azeez…you are the man, nice movie indeed; I got highly emotional and extremely touched with the great acting. I guess I was so occupied with the movie seeing a poor simple and easy going person getting unintentionally and unwillingly involved in a bad situation and as a result, life suddenly gets upside down. A 180º different person is found due unjust treatment by self-centered rich powerful man. Seeking revenge, Kareem showed high level of intelligence and a greater determination for getting even with the people killed his wife. I liked the movie, despite the poor sound and visual effects. Kareem you are the MAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music &amp;amp; lyrics…&lt;br /&gt;I can say I expected more, I usually like Hue Grant's movies, he is a great actor, with the British sense of hummer, I liked that. I don't regret watching the movie, but I don't recommend it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serendipity… &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R8akPFzCIBI/AAAAAAAAAJc/QC5sl39MBnM/s1600-h/ser.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172001801242812434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R8akPFzCIBI/AAAAAAAAAJc/QC5sl39MBnM/s320/ser.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This the 4th or 5th time I watch it, I like it, it strengths my believes that every thing in life happens for a reason and signs are there to show us the way and guide us to the best, assuring us that every ting is going to be just ok. This movie in particular makes me wish that life is a movie, that ends happily having the stars meeting together and live happily after…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No reservation…I watched it yesterday, I can say it was much below expectations, and if Zita Jounz was not there, I don't think it worth to be watched at all. I liked one thing about it, the end of it, and how they named the place, great idea indeed. &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/6938622122333953371-4155951446989815464?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4155951446989815464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4155951446989815464&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4155951446989815464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4155951446989815464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/02/movies-i-watched-lately.html' title='Movies I watched lately'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/R8ak01zCICI/AAAAAAAAAJk/8zbsEbt-hSk/s72-c/wahed_men_elnas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-7191394539164062310</id><published>2008-02-04T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:56.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you can control your temper while driving pleas tell me how…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes I need this help, how to control your temper while driving specially in Jordan. I just don’t get it, even though I’m a very cool person, calm in general, and not easy to be teased, I just can’t control my temper while driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R6dwojR5J0I/AAAAAAAAAJM/PMJ7D1NizHY/s1600-h/200288270-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163219339770931010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R6dwojR5J0I/AAAAAAAAAJM/PMJ7D1NizHY/s320/200288270-001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each day, when I go out from my home, I promise myself that I’ll stay cool whatever happens. But this promise, is one of the promises that I can’t keep (which is something rarely happens, cuz I don’t promise a thing I can’t do). I admit it, it is out of my control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst thing in the whole thing, is that I love driving, I really enjoying having control over the car, going wherever you wish to go..just control your move, what you hear in the radio, to use the fragrance you wish for the car, to get the window down…raise it up…simple things…but it represent your control over the things…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what makes it so hard to control yourself, is how stupid, arrogant, careless, rude, selfish and out of manners the people are. They just waste any chance to keep you calm and never lose your temper. I know that people do mistakes, and I don’t mind at all, after all we are human, and we make &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R6dxAjR5J1I/AAAAAAAAAJU/pdh_iAZDGos/s1600-h/200288271-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163219752087791442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R6dxAjR5J1I/AAAAAAAAAJU/pdh_iAZDGos/s320/200288271-001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mistakes, this is out nature, and the truth I do make mistakes by myself, but unintentional, it is not a justification, but at least it decline all the characteristics of a intentionally bad driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when it comes to driving in Jordan, you as a driver, should pay attention to the car next to you (both sides), the car in front of you, and the behind you for sure, the people crossing the crowded street suddenly (even thought there is a bridge, or a tunnel to use), and for sure, the holes filling the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate the person I turn to when getting pissed by someone…I have to change, after all, driving is all about making decisions, and it will be a big mistake to expect that all the people will make decisions that work with me….but really I wish to stay calm, I should find a way….&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/6938622122333953371-7191394539164062310?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/7191394539164062310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=7191394539164062310&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7191394539164062310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7191394539164062310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/02/if-you-can-control-your-temper-while.html' title='If you can control your temper while driving pleas tell me how…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/R6dwojR5J0I/AAAAAAAAAJM/PMJ7D1NizHY/s72-c/200288270-001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-2183865982426955010</id><published>2008-01-15T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T11:30:59.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>life!!!</title><content type='html'>I’m waiting the results!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have any problem with exams, I love them sometimes, but what I really hate and do not tolerate, is the period after the exams, waiting the results…iffttt.. I hate it …it pushes on my nerves, hope the 20th of January wont be that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I was in a 5 days training program, I did well, actually very well to a degree the two trainers started to look at me all the time, explaining the material to me, and when asking a tricky, hard question…they just look at me to check if I know the answer…&lt;br /&gt;The truth, I liked that feeling, getting back and taking the lead as I was at school time, cuz in college, I just handed the flag to the others, not caring about the competition, at that time I lost the spirit…thanks to Allah it is back now…and I wish to go on…the only thing here, is that I have to be alerted all the time, otherwise he will catch me talking, drawing…or whatever I’m used to!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some ppl r just so mean!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the 2nd day to live in a shock of how mean people r!! up to now I just can get it, why? How could they? What I did to them? WHY????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it is in the way our parents raised us, to wish good for all the ppl, not just to ourselves…I guess those ppl their parents were absents at that lesson!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many plans…nothing would be done…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought 2008 will be the year of change for sure, I had many options and work even on more, things r not going the way I wish, and yesterday was day I knew that my 4th plan will not be happen!! Not sad but feeling down somehow, seeing all my plans going with the winds!!&lt;br /&gt;My only consolidation is that Allah always chooses the best for us, and what seems bad now, may hide a good thing after all…what a great and relieving thing to be a believer…it eases your life…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-2183865982426955010?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/2183865982426955010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=2183865982426955010&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2183865982426955010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2183865982426955010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/01/life.html' title='life!!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-488731117784284316</id><published>2008-01-04T12:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:56.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We never know where life takes us….</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A friend of mine, a very close one, used to say…we never know where life takes us. At the middle of the relationship, I used to think, what is he talking about, we r friends, and more over, we r cousins, so what could happen to turn this relation apart…no way.. nothing can change us…,but not as usual, I was wrong!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to consider him as my best friend, I guess he was more than that, a brother who I can share thoughts, feelings with and ask for his advice. Our talks were all about life in general, and since he is part of the family, I felt free to talk about things that go with me daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R36Xg8J11tI/AAAAAAAAAJE/pnnZprRfTw4/s1600-h/75942151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151721615917438674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="308" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R36Xg8J11tI/AAAAAAAAAJE/pnnZprRfTw4/s320/75942151.jpg" width="208" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The sweatiest thing was that he was capable of reading my thoughts even before I say it, we agreed on many things, and even though I have a different mentality that is not easy to understand but he was the person who understands me, and knows what I’m talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People could not understand the nature of our relation, and they were convinced that it is love. At that moment I did not care, cuz I knew that it is not love, I was sure he was thinking the same way…he is not my type, yes I know that I admire him, I like his personality, but there was no chemistry…and even if there was, he is happily engaged!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days go by, and this relation changes for worse, emails, chatting, phone calls and even sms r less and less. I admit that I missed him as a friend, especially when he was a corner stone in my life, but as usual, and due to my pride, I said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I was feeling down for a very long time, I thought if I talk to him, and tell him what is going on with me, I’ll feel better, but again I was wrong. His reaction came very shocking, asking me to consider him as a friend nothing more, I was like... “What the hill u r talking about?” u among all the people in the whole world should know what my feelings toward u r, I love u right, but as a brother…his word hurted me so deep, I wish I had the courage to say that u r not my type, but I was so afraid of hurting him…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I miss him, I miss our talks, I miss when he used to say the word just seconds before I do, I miss thinking of the same subject even if miles apart us, I miss talking about a song I love…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES I DO MISS YOU, and even if I’m sad that u caused me this pain, but I still have this feeling to u, and now it is for ur wife and sweet little kid, and as u kept on saying… “We never know where life takes us.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-488731117784284316?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/488731117784284316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=488731117784284316&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/488731117784284316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/488731117784284316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2008/01/we-never-know-where-life-takes-us.html' title='We never know where life takes us….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/R36Xg8J11tI/AAAAAAAAAJE/pnnZprRfTw4/s72-c/75942151.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-5033004264614644622</id><published>2007-12-22T05:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T05:50:25.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange how we feel in holidays…</title><content type='html'>Each holiday I start to think that it is going to be special this year, I make a promises to myself, I will be happy, forget all about sad things in life and enjoy the holidays. But when holydays start, I find it same as the other days, with 2 differences, first is we don’t go to work (and this is the great thing about holidays) and the 2nd is u start to feel lonely and missing all the ppl u considered to be friends, lovers, and beloved ppl in your life. A usual thing to do in holidays is to set and think about your life, the meaning of it, and how far you got in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Eid, I would describe it as different, not special, but different. My uncle came to visit us, he is my only uncle, and I admit that I love him. It has been almost 9 years since I saw him last time, and really I missed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing about my uncle is that he chose to stay away from civilization, to live in a village, while he can live in the city. To have a job that is made for uneducated person, while he has his degree. Up to now, I just can’t get what he is thinking of; I guess I’ll never understand his mindset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I was looking to meeting my uncle, but the feeling of loneliness still the overwhelming feeling in holidays…the only comforting thing is that I’m not the only one who has this feeling, many other do. Hope that next Eid feelings differ, wi kol 3am wi into bi kheer..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-5033004264614644622?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/5033004264614644622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=5033004264614644622&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5033004264614644622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5033004264614644622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/12/strange-how-we-feel-in-holidays.html' title='Strange how we feel in holidays…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-2085836236352419305</id><published>2007-12-15T03:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:57.125-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love to live by the sea…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R2PF9cJ11rI/AAAAAAAAAI0/k_iQTddIY7E/s1600-h/New+Picture+(1).png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144172858707400370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R2PF9cJ11rI/AAAAAAAAAI0/k_iQTddIY7E/s320/New+Picture+(1).png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday, I came back from Aqaba, staying 3 days there. The last time I went there, I did not get the chance to see the sea, the weather was hot, we had a lot of work, and the company I was with did not help…so the only thing I could do is to watch the sea from a distance, and this was killing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time was no difference, we arrived at the afternoon, the weather was very nice, but we had no time, and the people I’m with are more interested in work and ..Shopping…&lt;br /&gt;The last day, I decided, I will not walk the way they want me to, true she is my manager, but still, I woke up early in the morning, went walking, went to the shore, drank my coffee there, and got the chance to ride the speed boat. This made me realize, I love the sea the most, I never wake up early in the morning to walk to do any thing, I hate waking up, but to watch the sea, I’m ready to do any thing…I believe that the view of water, just give u the peace and harmony that you wish to live with, it has been one of my dreams to live by the sea.. I wish that this dream will come true one day…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I like the way I think and act, I never let any one control me, or manage me the way he or she wishes, even though I make them happy and satisfied, it is not about this situation only; I’m talking in general… I guess this is what they are talking about social cleverness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R2PGlcJ11sI/AAAAAAAAAI8/1d_c0yhCfPM/s1600-h/New+Picture.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144173545902167746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/R2PGlcJ11sI/AAAAAAAAAI8/1d_c0yhCfPM/s320/New+Picture.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the 1st time I don’t know how to sleep, I guess this is because I went to sleep so early, is there any one goes to sleep at 10?? I did…I should have taken something to read…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this 2 days ago, and I did not publish it in my blog, I got busy with something else, today I got a comment from maiosh, saying she misses me, or misses my writing. The truth she succeeded in drawing a smile on my face, I was so happy that by writing my diaries, I’m making new friends…this was not in my mind when I started to write in my blog. Again thanks maiosh for your sweet comment.&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/6938622122333953371-2085836236352419305?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/2085836236352419305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=2085836236352419305&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2085836236352419305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2085836236352419305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-love-to-live-by-sea.html' title='I love to live by the sea…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/R2PF9cJ11rI/AAAAAAAAAI0/k_iQTddIY7E/s72-c/New+Picture+(1).png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-292189629305168364</id><published>2007-11-09T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:57.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It rained today…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RzTBwB12p6I/AAAAAAAAAIU/yrZpAXJcl8s/s1600-h/rain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130938906354034594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" height="179" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RzTBwB12p6I/AAAAAAAAAIU/yrZpAXJcl8s/s320/rain.jpg" width="250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes…it rained today, I was so excited, and very happy that I was out, so I can witness the first drops of water.&lt;br /&gt;I love winter, I enjoy it, with all of its feelings…it is hard to believe that, since I’m a person who likes to go out all the time, but still, I love winter, and I enjoy going out under the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I’m enjoying a song, an old one, it is called: “lail wi ra3d..” for Wae’l Kforry, I used to love this song, and now, I even love it more, cuz it reminds me with someone…some one I wish that will be a great part in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is 9/11, and this year is the 2nd anniversary of the explosio&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RzTCWB12p7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/QP0AJncf910/s1600-h/amman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130939559189063602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RzTCWB12p7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/QP0AJncf910/s320/amman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ns in Amman, I just can remember this day as yesterday, I remember I cried, and went on crying. I was telling to myself, this is the safe Amman, how could they do it to us, many feelings were at that moment, anger, sorrow, fear, and definitely confusing…I just could not imagine who could do something as repulsive as this…I said to myself, yes I know the misery that our family in Palestine going through, yes we feel so sorry for the horrible things happing in Iraq and Lebanon, but sure…this is something different, it has been never expected, and once it took place, u started to call family and friends to be sure that they r safe, and no harm is done…and the story does not end here, u start to hear about this and that…dead…injured…lost someone dear..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, and after 2 years…we still feel the pain… but life goes on…goes on to show those ppl that Jordan is much stronger than what they think…and they’ll never scare our safe…beloved Amman…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-292189629305168364?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/292189629305168364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=292189629305168364&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/292189629305168364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/292189629305168364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/11/it-rained-today.html' title='It rained today…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RzTBwB12p6I/AAAAAAAAAIU/yrZpAXJcl8s/s72-c/rain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-8707075768940741525</id><published>2007-11-01T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:57.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I just don’t get it…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two days ago, while I was sitting in my office, three cars had been involved in an accident, it looked that there were injuries, and cars were partially damaged. Cups, and ambula&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RypBGXVSi1I/AAAAAAAAAIM/w1jIs1xFZtg/s1600-h/car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127982703313062738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RypBGXVSi1I/AAAAAAAAAIM/w1jIs1xFZtg/s320/car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nce came to the accident, and they started to move the cars, and get the ppl out of the car.&lt;br /&gt;This is the 1st time to see an accident that close, and to keep updated with what happens, usually I just pass by it, feel sorry for them and walk away as fast as I can…what I really can’t get, is why ppl stop to watch and check the accident, even if they r on the other side of the street… they may even get out of their cars, and go to check it…I know that this is the right thing to do, if and only if, u r offering help, and no one is there to help, then it is a human obligation to help. But to stop on the middle of the street, to gaze at the seen, I just don’t see the benefit of that…on the contrary, they cause delay for other ppl, and there is a great possibility of another accident, due to the distraction…&lt;br /&gt;I really wish ppl just mind their own business, especially when it comes to accidents like those.&lt;br /&gt;The weather is starting to get better, tepm. Is dropping, and I like that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Ryo_snVSi0I/AAAAAAAAAIE/MX7LVsrxFC0/s1600-h/rania.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127981161419803458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Ryo_snVSi0I/AAAAAAAAAIE/MX7LVsrxFC0/s320/rania.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The day before yesterday, was a very distinguished day, I saw her majesty queen Rania Al Abd-Allah. I saw her in person, she looks more than great, elegant, cute, and so ..royal…I also saw Koffe Annan, and took a photo with him….the great about this whole thing is that I got some action in my life…I guess I really needed it badly..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few days, big thinking about my career is occupying my mind, and still I did not make my mind about any thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I deactivated my facebook account for one week, to protest on having groups that hurt Religions, weather Islam, or Christianity….one week without facebook…I guess it is a good way to get clean from this addiction…lol… it is like going to a rehab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I regret making the 1st move, I guess it was a big mistake, I feel sorry I did it, but what to say.. I guess it is one of life lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and friends went to a uni-friend’s house…it was more than great to see old friends…get back to the old days.. recall all the fun…I think I talked about this before…so I’d better stop here.&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/6938622122333953371-8707075768940741525?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8707075768940741525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8707075768940741525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8707075768940741525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8707075768940741525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-just-dont-get-it.html' title='I just don’t get it…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RypBGXVSi1I/AAAAAAAAAIM/w1jIs1xFZtg/s72-c/car.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-6066857501460756724</id><published>2007-10-24T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:57.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He called her today…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She saw his name on her mobile, a very big smile was drawn at her face…she almost jumped cause he called…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx-6wo6bUXI/AAAAAAAAAH0/pe_eGt4oTPQ/s1600-h/200563322-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125020245749879154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="203" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx-6wo6bUXI/AAAAAAAAAH0/pe_eGt4oTPQ/s320/200563322-001.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She made a promise, she will not talk to him, call him, or even ask about him, she will forget every thing related to him, not because he is a bad guy, but because the job was joining them together is done.. and each one of them went in a different way…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True she knows that he has a wife.. kids.. and she had never thought of him as her man… despite all of that …she was thrilled he called… she was happy to know that he cares about her, he called her as a friend….she dose not care…the important thing is that he remembers… this satisfies her ego…the female ego..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was happy to know that she is a strong person…she was able to end a relationship… just erase him from her head… forget every thing about him.. even though she knows she is a special to him..and yes…as usual ..she succeeded…..she deserves bravo…so…bravo…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the whole day alone in the office.. I like the idea of having an office where no one shares it with u.. u listen to whatever u want…call…talk any one with the freedom of act and speak… I always had partners in the office.. I know it is a temporary situation ..but still…I’m enjoying it…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx-7Qo6bUYI/AAAAAAAAAH8/5QTFs53czSI/s1600-h/200369286-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125020795505693058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx-7Qo6bUYI/AAAAAAAAAH8/5QTFs53czSI/s320/200369286-001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went to see my friend today, two other friends from university days were there, I realized that it has been years since I saw them last time, even though we r in the same city. Great thing about these meetings is that it get u back to the old days…to the days u were a kid.. enjoying life. The only thing that makes these meetings not that comfy is that when u find all the ppl have things, accomplishments to talk about, but u …u don’t…so u start to talk about others, that’s why I keep avoiding such gatherings…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I said that I like my new office…I like the big glassy wall, being able of seeing every one goes in and out of the building…waw…I keep on thinking of the snow.. it will be an amazing view… &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/6938622122333953371-6066857501460756724?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6066857501460756724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6066857501460756724&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6066857501460756724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6066857501460756724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/10/he-called-her-today.html' title='He called her today…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx-6wo6bUXI/AAAAAAAAAH0/pe_eGt4oTPQ/s72-c/200563322-001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-1056342183727089555</id><published>2007-10-23T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:58.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I bought the gift…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx5i2Y6bUWI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_MMDccxJAIk/s1600-h/gift.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124642112534172002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx5i2Y6bUWI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_MMDccxJAIk/s320/gift.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I went to buy the gift for my best friend’s new born baby…and even though I said I lost interest and concern about the gifts I buy, I found myself thinking at the store, not accepting buying a very typical gift, the gift that every one would buy, and may not last for a long time…it had to be unique, I guess it is all related to me…I never accept to be similar to every one.. and the magical word…is to be distinguished…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I watched this movie “face off” for the 4th or 3rd time.. I guess I lost counting, the truth is I like this movie.. even though it has it’s portion of fiction (which I don’t like in general in movies), but I guess Nicolas is playing a nice role and deserves to be watched.. any way this is not the idea of mentioning this, cause I watched it, not according to my free well, but it was my brother’s choice…any way.. he was wondering about the ending.. and he said.. ah.. yes…the good wins eventually.. I smiled.. realizing that most of the movies ends in a way that draws a smile on ur face.. we enjoy that…I enjoy that…I guess it is a way to make up for the things that happen and end badly in our real lives…I hate sad endings…even though I love his movie.. “city of angels.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t feel that great about work….I just don’t…I get bored so quickly… I wish there is a magical bill for this condition…I’ll be the 1st one to ask for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m changing…I used to feel shy of people…so kind to them…even when they cause me pain…now.. I just don’t let them do that…I used to forgive more…never count the mistakes of a person specially if he/she is a friend….always give 2nd, 3rd and even 10th chance….now, I just give the 1st chance.. if it was misused…I’m so ready to forget about that person, and just erase him/her from my life…as easy as that…no regret…I guess life changes the person.. I’m kind of happy for this change…I’m just sick of being that silly girl.. a girl that hurts no one.. but still gets hurt…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ba7ebek wa7shtene”…is the song I’m listening to right now.. I love this song…emotions r so delicate, and very touchy…good one hussen el jesmee, this is a song that each female wishes a guy to sing it for her…. With this high amount of love and care… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-1056342183727089555?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/1056342183727089555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=1056342183727089555&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1056342183727089555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1056342183727089555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-bought-gift.html' title='I bought the gift…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/Rx5i2Y6bUWI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_MMDccxJAIk/s72-c/gift.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-4144765695107965005</id><published>2007-10-22T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T12:36:09.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am excited!!</title><content type='html'>if I am to describe myself,I would say that I'm a strange person...full of emotions..and very moody...but i guess it is in a good way....even though i get depressed and upset...but the silliest thing can shift my mood...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now, I'm excited...don't know why...I know it is hard to believe ...bas wallahi I don't know why...ino no particular reason...may be cuz i did some work today...don't know...&lt;br /&gt;any way...last week I saw my best friend 1st baby...he is soooo cute..and I loved him...but don't know..may be cuz he is so small...may be cuz I decided not to be attached to any kid...I did not feel that passion toward him..and I don't like that...i have to buy a gift...soon...cuz they r leaving in days..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to care about choosing the gift for the ppl i care about..now...i just buy any gift..i don't think that much...i guess i just lost concern...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-4144765695107965005?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4144765695107965005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4144765695107965005&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4144765695107965005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4144765695107965005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-excited.html' title='I am excited!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-6608845762530562369</id><published>2007-10-21T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T16:05:51.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Many things happened..</title><content type='html'>Many things happened lately, and I could not, did not want to, and did not have the time to talk about it…. I guess it is better to write it down….and now is a quite good time, since I can not sleep and I’m doing nothing but surfing the net for silly and useless stuff…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been a facebook addict…and yes ..addict is the right word to describe the situation here, I just wake up in the morning to check it, go to work…. Back.. check it…go to sleep.. wake up…check it.. and so on…I think it is just an temporary status.. and I’ll get by it soon…hopefully…&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that I’m becoming( if I’m not already) a facebook stalker, I just can’t stop myself from checking every one ..and what is going with him/ her…..I hate my curiosity …but again this is me…:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been shocked with a woman I know, she is from family…she did a very horrible thing…. My heart really hurts when I think of it.. this is the 2nd time I’m officially fooled by someone…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramdan was nice.. true the weather was hot, and the day is long, but I really thank Allah we managed to fast it…and enjoying it…I prayed for Allah…asking for 3 main things…I wonder when r they going to be answered….i’m sure they will be answered…if not now...then soon…if not soon…one day….if not one day…it will be written in my book…I just love the fact that I’m a believer…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jad el dinia sgherreh…I met a classmate.. I was going to say a friend ..but I chose the other word.. I guess it is better for this situation…I saw him in unexpected place…he did not recognize me.. cuz I was in my car and he was walking…I was happy to see him.. even though I recalled how our friendship has ended…and how sad and disappointed I was… but on the other hand.. I remembered uni days…and the amount of fun we had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a first move.. yes …I guess I own myself the right to make the move.. other wise, I’ll keep on questioning what if…and again I have nothing to lose….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have moved to a new building...i guess i'll talk later about this.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-6608845762530562369?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6608845762530562369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6608845762530562369&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6608845762530562369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6608845762530562369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/10/many-things-happened.html' title='Many things happened..'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-6331592419069255559</id><published>2007-09-11T23:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T01:36:18.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>she was hopping...</title><content type='html'>He has been in her mind for a while, she met him at a friend’s party, she heard things about him before, and here she meets him.&lt;br /&gt;It has been almost 2 years since they have met for the 1st time, she thought she saw some look in his eyes, she thought he may be feeling something the same way she does, but as usual, she makes no move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days go by, and she is still thinking of him, he is at the same age she is, he is cute, smart, and polite, he looks good, not waaaw.. but good, and that’s what she was looking for, and above all…yes.. yes.. he is a pilot… the career of her husband of dreams, where he gets the chance to travel all over the world, staying away for times from now and then, and gets back to her, missing her, and longing for spending time with her, thinking of her while choosing the gift that may please her, and while he is gun, she gets the chance to do many things, spending time of her own, and getting prepared to welcome him home…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how a person can draw dreams, put plans, and starts living according to them, to wake up some morning and check the facebook to know that he has someone in his life….she should have done a move…2 years ago…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-6331592419069255559?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6331592419069255559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6331592419069255559&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6331592419069255559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6331592419069255559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/09/she-was-hopping.html' title='she was hopping...'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-2487746774684497036</id><published>2007-09-11T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:58.359-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a boy…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RueM9D9EPTI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Ej7taoPHeXM/s1600-h/it"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109207282936462642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RueM9D9EPTI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Ej7taoPHeXM/s320/it%27s+a+boy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I got a msg from my best friend who is living in UAE, telling me that she gave birth to her first son…I was so thrilled and happy for her, specially that her husband is a best friend of mine too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called her late at night after a friend of mine had left after an enjoyable visit. She was still tired, I tried to cheer her up, but I knew deep inside that she is extremely exhausted, since she is very slim, and this is the 1st boy…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was talking to her, I said a word that expressed my whole feelings, I told her.. waw it is serious, she said…”:yes it is serious, did u think I was playing…it has been 9 months” ..so I was like…ok …ok…, I was thinking....this friend and another friend of mine r now moms, and still I can’t see them as moms…I guess cause I did not go through the experience yet, and cuz I tend to think that they r so alike me, so the whole situation is strange…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;sometimes I think …even though I turned 27…but still I’m not ready for commitment, having a family, and raising children.. it is true that I’m a responsible person, but still I don’t know what is really wrong with me thinking in that way…I guess it is all because the stories we hear each day about couples breaking up…but on the other hand, I know that I’m an understanding person so I’m almost sure that I’ll have a peaceful happy life once I find Mr. right….ana dareee….I feel like a mess …so confused ..and many questions r forcing themselves …. I wish I can just settle down…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again… congrats my friend…so happy for u…&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/6938622122333953371-2487746774684497036?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/2487746774684497036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=2487746774684497036&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2487746774684497036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2487746774684497036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/09/it-is-boy.html' title='It is a boy…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RueM9D9EPTI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Ej7taoPHeXM/s72-c/it%27s+a+boy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-2718266558359823006</id><published>2007-09-01T23:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:58.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Many things</title><content type='html'>Today I have many many things to talk about, I couldn’t wait until the weekend ends and get to office to write this post, I guess many things go in my mind and I just want it to be documented so in the future read it and think how days go by, or even look at the situation from another perspective, may be there is a msg and I could not get it at that moment. So here I’m, made my black coffee, sat on my chair and started to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bride is my cousin….:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtpYsCac0HI/AAAAAAAAAHU/o6tHC0DXklc/s1600-h/bride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105490641163178098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtpYsCac0HI/AAAAAAAAAHU/o6tHC0DXklc/s320/bride.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bride is my cousin, and yes I had many married cousins, actually few, but this is cousin is special to me. She is few months younger than me, so we had many things in common.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad thing is that I could not go to her wedding, since she is in the 48 lands, so, even if I managed to go to Palestine – which is easy to do for me- it would be still hard to get to the wedding, unless I had a passport…so I saved myself the trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called her to wish her happiness, and she told me how much she misses us, and that all of them there, uncle, aunts, and cousins…it is only missing us…this is not the 1st occasion to miss because of occupation, I missed the wedding of my cousin who was my best friend ( I guess I’ll write about this later), and we could not be at my grandmother’s funeral …..That’s all make me feel sooooooooo angry ….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But again…this time is to celebrats….so …Congratulations Cousin….wish you all the Happiness in the universe…and may Allah bless your life and family with love and pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my hair cut….:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally,&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtpWByac0FI/AAAAAAAAAHE/glaoVcT3f6E/s1600-h/haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105487716290449490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" height="284" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtpWByac0FI/AAAAAAAAAHE/glaoVcT3f6E/s320/haircut.jpg" width="221" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I got my hair cut, and I wish I didn’t….it has been months since I decided to get my hair trimmed, I know it is something silly to talk about, but it is a big thing for me, cuz I’m soooooooooo lazy when it comes to going out to make specific things, I just want to go out to hang out and stay out of home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I don’t like beauty saloons, girls stay in beauty saloons just talking silly talks, smoking, and calling names on each other, this thing irritates me, and I try to avoid going their unless I have to, and when I get there, I just want to get out ASAP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El mohem…I got my hair cut…..and she succeeded in making a fool of me… lol…I went home with a urging need to cry…the wearied thing I did not…I guess I have changed, and nothing matters any more…ba3deen it is not the end of the world, it will grow up......eventually….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sghereeih el dineee….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes., it is a very very small world, two days ago, I went to a friend’s engagement party, and yes I know this so usual, and nothing abnormal, the surprise was when I saw a girl from school there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth, I never expected to meet her again, since I moved from the city I was living in (as if Jordan is that big), so we sat and talked checking the news of the girls…and WAW it just hit me that it has been 10 years since I left school…WAW…days r in a race…and yes they r winning…any way…Still, the story is not here, the party girl (if I can call her like that), was a girl in my batch, the funny thing is that she was in my third elementary grade….after that grade, I changed the school, the city, and the country…and as they say…days go by…and after years, we met in the university in the same faculty, same discipline, but we did not recognize each other, after 3 years of being together, I remembered her, and went to tell her that we were together in school, and finally she remembered me…the funny&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtpYXCac0GI/AAAAAAAAAHM/dTFaWopVbOs/s1600-h/planet+earth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105490280385925218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 333px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px" height="171" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtpYXCac0GI/AAAAAAAAAHM/dTFaWopVbOs/s320/planet+earth.jpg" width="326" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; thing is that it took me 3 years to remember her…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the party, a flashback of my whole life played in order, it is the elementary school and the competitive spirit, then, it is the secondary school, that was full of good times, then it is university time, were we got the 1st lessons in life…and the life of work (since my coworker is one of the batch girls)…so in brief …sgheriieh el dini…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-2718266558359823006?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/2718266558359823006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=2718266558359823006&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2718266558359823006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2718266558359823006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/09/many-things.html' title='Many things'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RtpYsCac0HI/AAAAAAAAAHU/o6tHC0DXklc/s72-c/bride.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-1326110486301161304</id><published>2007-08-29T23:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:58.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They r getting divorce…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtZlCiac0EI/AAAAAAAAAG8/lOFz7I7PyiI/s1600-h/divorce.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104378321942925378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 281px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="214" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtZlCiac0EI/AAAAAAAAAG8/lOFz7I7PyiI/s320/divorce.jpg" width="264" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now, I’m feeling very confused, I can’t decide how to feel, should I be happy?? Sad?? Or even feel nothing at all??? I can’t really make my mind.. and I guess it is the worst feeling ever…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our neighbors are getting divorced, they have been married for 10 years, the woman is the same age as I am, and they have a 9 years old girl. My confusing feeling is due to the fact that I know that they were never happy together, the 1st divorce was when the girl was just born, and because of the great efforts done, she got back to him, and nothing is better, their life was full of fights and missing any gesture of love, and the most affected person was the girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not saying he is an angel, he did the big mistake when choosing the wrong person, and when he started to answer her requests with no argument, and when she decided to impose her full control, he realized what mess he put himself in. She played the greatest role in destroying the house; she always thought she is better than him (even though she is not). She never tried to make him happy, at the contrary; she tried to make his life miserable whenever, wherever she can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went to her dad’s home now, they r consulting lawyers for divorce issue, they may solve it peacefully if she decided to give up on her child. They asked me to teach the girl and review her homework with her, I agreed, and when we were studying, the lesson talked about the mother, and how tender she is, I almost dropped a tear, thinking of her saying to her parents: “please, stop fighting, it is enough, plz er7amoneee”…..strange that ppl never think about anyone but themselves…. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-1326110486301161304?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/1326110486301161304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=1326110486301161304&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1326110486301161304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1326110486301161304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/08/they-r-getting-divorce.html' title='They r getting divorce…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RtZlCiac0EI/AAAAAAAAAG8/lOFz7I7PyiI/s72-c/divorce.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-7556120224110785486</id><published>2007-08-29T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:59.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange how we change….</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtUsDyac0DI/AAAAAAAAAG0/H0Hc0efdrFc/s1600-h/swimming.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104034196278267954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtUsDyac0DI/AAAAAAAAAG0/H0Hc0efdrFc/s320/swimming.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can’t stop wondering how we change, wether this change is out of our control, or we asked for it. I know it is the nature of life, and we must change wether for better (hopefully) and sometimes for worse…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day, I was so surprised of myself, we were in the pool, and there were some little girls who were having fun, jumping and playing together, they were enjoying their time, caring nothing about the others, I was upset, saying to myself….how annoying they r, we r here to swim, not to have fun…and a moment after that…I felt the shock…waw…I go to the pool to swim, not to have fun…what a shock…it is me who is saying this!!! Me!! The one who was having fun in every thing….WAW!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change is sometimes good, I remember how life has polished my personality, it is true I’m stronger now, but still, I need to make big changes in my life…I wish I can stop crying for the silliest thing, I wish stop being so kind…and learn how to deal with ppl getting advantage from my kindness…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all I guess we all change…as they say…the only thing that never changes is the change itself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-7556120224110785486?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/7556120224110785486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=7556120224110785486&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7556120224110785486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7556120224110785486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/08/strange-how-we-change.html' title='Strange how we change….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RtUsDyac0DI/AAAAAAAAAG0/H0Hc0efdrFc/s72-c/swimming.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-1850122811866633693</id><published>2007-08-29T00:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:59.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SORRY BUT I HATE UR CAREER…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I know that u work hard to get the title, that many of u (if not most of u) r so kind and so sweet, that you do ur best to get us better, but still…I hate ur career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t like the fact that I hate physician’s career, since I know how important they r, the effort they r making, but still, I hate it…may be cause it is related to pain, u never go to a doctor unless u have some pain…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couple of weeks ago, I went to make a little surgery in my eye, it was soooo easy, it took almost 15 min. this is my 3rd operation, I had the 1st when I was 6 years, the 2nd when I was 11…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104032942147817506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="243" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RtUq6yac0CI/AAAAAAAAAGs/wc_XyGus5Z0/s320/doctor.jpg" width="208" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strange thing, is that I have never been afraid from operations, each time I go there, I just depend on God, and I have never been worried, cause I know being worried will change nothing….this time was different, I guess because I was awake, it is true I wasn’t afraid, but I was in pain, I even asked for more drugs. The worst thing is that I had 2 doctors, the main doctor was telling the doctor who is operating how to do it…lol…I was like…wala eshee!!! Ino jai tedarab 3alai!!so I felt somehow worried…lol…the coolest thing, is when they started to talk in English, as if I couldn’t understand them…and while he was giving directions, telling her that she chose the wrong angle, he said: “there is bleeding, why is that? There should be no bleeding”, ana latamet…ino wala eshee!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Allah, the operation went smoothly; I really thank u people…and excuse me for not liking ur career, it is out of my control……. But the way I like ur look in white coat…u look so cute…and handsome…: )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-1850122811866633693?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/1850122811866633693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=1850122811866633693&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1850122811866633693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1850122811866633693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/08/sorry-but-i-hate-ur-career.html' title='SORRY BUT I HATE UR CAREER…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RtUq6yac0CI/AAAAAAAAAGs/wc_XyGus5Z0/s72-c/doctor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-6277305783383270663</id><published>2007-07-31T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:24:59.567-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry…but I don’t feel sorry..!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RrAplZzUj6I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Dm4KYDi-ZSs/s1600-h/wheelchair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093616901114072994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="251" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RrAplZzUj6I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Dm4KYDi-ZSs/s320/wheelchair.jpg" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is not like I’m heartless, but I don’t feel sorry for handicapped ppl. I just can’t find a reason to feel sorry for them, and have this sympathy to them, yes I know they r facing troubles in life, but who doesn’t??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point here, is that God takes something, and gives another instead. I have met many handicapped ppl, and I dealt with them, and u know what…they were so special, I’m not saying that cuz I had low expectations, at the contrary, I had the same expectations for a regular person. They were special because they have things regular ppl don’t have, and they excel in the thing they r doing…. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The another thing I noticed, they hate to know that u pity them, they refuse to be considered less than other, and I agree with them , cuz they r never less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t explain it, I don’t know why am I writing this, but this thought has been going on my head …I guess it is hard to say it, it is not easy to explain, not easy to be understood. I think I need to thank God, there is a blog where I can write what I need to say…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-6277305783383270663?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6277305783383270663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6277305783383270663&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6277305783383270663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6277305783383270663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/sorrybut-i-dont-feel-sorry.html' title='Sorry…but I don’t feel sorry..!!!!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RrAplZzUj6I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Dm4KYDi-ZSs/s72-c/wheelchair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-479074226083334083</id><published>2007-07-30T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:00.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ARE we going to stop asking typical questions??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rq2czJKDbPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/KB1hJEXzPFE/s1600-h/question+mark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092899156071247090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 169px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" height="272" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rq2czJKDbPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/KB1hJEXzPFE/s320/question+mark.jpg" width="148" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Strange how we keep on asking typical questions, me myself ask typical questions, that is when I find nothing to say, nothing to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whom do u love more?ur mom or dad? and if they r coming from another country, “which country do u like more, here or there?”, not to mention…who bought this dress for u..??would u give it to me…and the list goes on and on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A typical question is asked for all the kids…: “what r u going to be when u grow up??” as if we know what we r going to be, or as if it was in our hands….and as we have typical questions…we have typical answers….” I want to be a doctor, an engineer…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed of being a pilot…yes it was my dream to drive an &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rq2bZpKDbNI/AAAAAAAAAGE/dttnaE4sdYo/s1600-h/pilot+dream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092897618472955090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" height="260" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rq2bZpKDbNI/AAAAAAAAAGE/dttnaE4sdYo/s320/pilot+dream.jpg" width="276" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;air plane, but I guess, not every thing we wish for comes true. Being a pilot was my way of reaching the sky, I guess it is the literal meaning for cline dion song “I can fly…I can reach the sky….”. until now, I still wish to become a pilot, each time I get on a plane, I say I will go to the pilot cabinet, but I chickened out… I guess I don’t like my request to be rejected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many factors played role in not being a pilot, the strongest was the high cost for education, the physical requirements for this position, not to mention it is not that accepted for a girl to be a pilot. (up to an extent, even though I don’t care that much about what others believe.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rq2bwJKDbOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/SjoVDQqQBEU/s1600-h/pilot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092898005020011746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 197px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 279px" height="221" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rq2bwJKDbOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/SjoVDQqQBEU/s320/pilot.jpg" width="251" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flying will be one of my dreams, I guess one day I’ll save money, take lessons. on a small plane for sure……and fly….or...I can marry a pilot... and get the lessons for free:P &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/6938622122333953371-479074226083334083?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/479074226083334083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=479074226083334083&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/479074226083334083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/479074226083334083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/are-we-going-to-stop-asking-typical.html' title='ARE we going to stop asking typical questions??'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/Rq2czJKDbPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/KB1hJEXzPFE/s72-c/question+mark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-8293738806208936785</id><published>2007-07-29T02:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:00.471-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We like to hear it…we like to believe it….</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Strange how like to hear complements, and then we beli&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqxhb5KDbLI/AAAAAAAAAF0/HsBXnJWAcXk/s1600-h/clapping+hands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092552410476539058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqxhb5KDbLI/AAAAAAAAAF0/HsBXnJWAcXk/s320/clapping+hands.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;eve it and start to act according to it. It is our nature to do so, and even if we tried to fight this tendency we fail and sometimes just give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me is no difference than other, I like to hear complements, I try to control the feeling of happiness to stay humble, but I can’t hide the thrill I feel when hearing good stuff about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day, I was sitting with a friend of my sister, she asked me to tell her about the person I have in my life, I tried my best to convince her that I have no one in my life, and never have, but my efforts went with the winds. She has this believe that I’m a big liar when it comes to this issue. Her point of view, that I have this personality, where I socialize with many people, with different levels, and in different ways, being successful in life, work and having a good look are &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqxh7pKDbMI/AAAAAAAAAF8/bHURtkhsK4s/s1600-h/good+job.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092552955937385666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px" height="255" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqxh7pKDbMI/AAAAAAAAAF8/bHURtkhsK4s/s320/good+job.jpg" width="304" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the main reasons for not believing that I’m not in love. She also added, that guys may be intimidated by my strong personality, and since I’m a special person, I deserve a special soul mate, and this is not easy to find….I kind liked that….since it agrees with my feeling that I have limited options in life..(I may talk about that later).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to mention the weakness I have, may be I wanted to find justifications, I even tried to convince myself with it before convincing her. To tell you the truth, I enjoyed hearing complements, and yes…I couldn’t fight the temptation of believing them….it is enjoyable to hear that u r a good person, specially when it comes from a person that waits nothing from u, and no benefits will gained from saying what has been said.&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/6938622122333953371-8293738806208936785?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8293738806208936785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8293738806208936785&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8293738806208936785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8293738806208936785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/we-like-to-hear-itwe-like-to-believe-it.html' title='We like to hear it…we like to believe it….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqxhb5KDbLI/AAAAAAAAAF0/HsBXnJWAcXk/s72-c/clapping+hands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-8144260501083794011</id><published>2007-07-29T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:00.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is killing me….</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That’s it…it is killing me over and over, today I absolutely did not want to come to work, I cant bear it, it is all over, making me nervous with this red face, willing to fight with any one, not to mention my way in driving, I turned to be one of the idiots I wish they distinguished from the streets…&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I could not sleep, took more than three cold showers, and yet …I can’t sleep because of it…I feel my ideas scattered, nothing can save me from this.. ..no…there is something…yes…something we used to have…unfortunately it is not there any more…God….why don’t we have AC….this heat is killing me……..eh eh eh &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092545409679846562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="220" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqxbEZKDbKI/AAAAAAAAAFs/3M9q17x64VY/s320/temp..jpg" width="220" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can’t wait till the end of the day……. I need to be in the pool….when is it going to be 6:30??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-8144260501083794011?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8144260501083794011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8144260501083794011&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8144260501083794011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8144260501083794011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-is-killing-me.html' title='It is killing me….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqxbEZKDbKI/AAAAAAAAAFs/3M9q17x64VY/s72-c/temp..jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-547438366455151811</id><published>2007-07-28T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:00.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I get the chance to control something …. I would choose…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My foot size is the thing I wish to control…yes my foot size….I know &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqw5jZKDbFI/AAAAAAAAAFE/v3YUlaTE0T4/s1600-h/shoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092508558860446802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="283" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqw5jZKDbFI/AAAAAAAAAFE/v3YUlaTE0T4/s320/shoes.jpg" width="213" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;it may look so silly to think in this way…but I really face a problem because of my foot size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, my foot size was larger than any other girl, so the problems to find the right shoes started so early, I had to buy shoes that are designed for an older lady. Later, I was so limited to certain models, colors, and designs…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy buying shoes….it is a pleasure of mine to search for new shoes.. mom says that I’m a shoe collector ..:D…I buy them…try them…find them un-comfortable…then keep them for a while…..then give them to charity….actually while I’m purchasing them…I know what life cycle they’ll have with me…:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having the same color of shoes, same design, is a case that I find myself in very often…I just can’t resist buying a shoe that fits my foot…since it is rare to happen. once I found these shoes that are bi&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqw5u5KDbGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/l91jz0jFrj4/s1600-h/foot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092508756428942434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="188" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqw5u5KDbGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/l91jz0jFrj4/s320/foot.jpg" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;gger than my foot, my happiness was un-describable, I was extremely thrilled...poor me:P….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I thank God that I have these big feet, I guess it is un-optional way to save money…and stop my un-controllable addiction….:D….lel lah fe khalqehi sho2oon…. &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/6938622122333953371-547438366455151811?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/547438366455151811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=547438366455151811&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/547438366455151811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/547438366455151811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/if-i-get-chance-to-control-something-i.html' title='If I get the chance to control something …. I would choose…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqw5jZKDbFI/AAAAAAAAAFE/v3YUlaTE0T4/s72-c/shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-1039661833009774133</id><published>2007-07-28T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T22:51:52.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you can’t say sorry…I can’t tolerate you…!!</title><content type='html'>Yes, that’s right, it is important for me to know that you can say sorry, it will make no difference to you to admit your fault….there is nothing to be shame of, we r all human being, it is in our nature that we make mistakes, and there is no problem with that, the real problem is when we wont admit that we are mistaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it that hard?? Haven’t you ever thought that it is the opposite’s right to get an apology when one of his/her rights is violated?? Do you think it is a sign of weakness when you say sorry?? Do u believe that only weak ppl say sorry….no dear…FYI…only dare people say sorry…it is needs a great guts to admit your mistake…and without taking this step…ur problem will always stand in your face….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t mind saying sorry…it is a great relief.. it is the magical word that can heal the wounds we may cause un-intentionally to ppl we love… and believe me, it is a master key to solve problems, especially if it is used in the right way….at the right time, with the right person….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who can’t say sorry…the only way is not to make any mistake…if u can do that…I guess you can remove the word SORRY from your dictionary…..other else…I can’t tolerate dealing with you…!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-1039661833009774133?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/1039661833009774133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=1039661833009774133&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1039661833009774133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/1039661833009774133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/if-you-cant-say-sorryi-cant-tolerate.html' title='If you can’t say sorry…I can’t tolerate you…!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-3736649373554848996</id><published>2007-07-26T02:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:02.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never expected that from u Monk….</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhmI5KDa_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/wM3Hx48H8Fs/s1600-h/cute+kid1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091431681710320626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="233" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhmI5KDa_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/wM3Hx48H8Fs/s320/cute+kid1.jpg" width="169" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m a good watcher for monk, I love this series, how the story starts, so vague…with few details, and woops…he finds the answer for the mystery. But that’s not all about Monk. I kind like him, sure not for the obsessions he has, he has something.. And strangely, I can’t specify it… I just can’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monk has this phobia, (if I can call it like that) among many other, he hates any one to touch him, he cleans his hands if had to shake hands with others, he can’t stand any kind of dirt, not to mention he has his way in cleaning, and marinating hygiene. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhneJKDbDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wZcAhl0ryWE/s1600-h/cute+kid2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091433146294168626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 271px" height="289" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhneJKDbDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wZcAhl0ryWE/s320/cute+kid2.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday, I was watching this episode, something I never had expected, Monk is holding a kid in his arms, playing with him, shaking hands….doing this and doing that… so I was like…waw…even u monk…and that was not all…he wanted to raise up that kid ….for ever …I guess I never saw that coming…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said before I love kids, they r sweet little angels walking on earth (not all of them sure), I feel thrilled when I hear their voices and laughs; I like nagging kids while driving, lol…I do it a lot…I like their un- understood words, their trails for walking, then falling at the floor…their way of eating, sleeping, running, painting, even having fights, their little fingers and toes, their sweet hand grab, their freshening hair smell….in brief…&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqhnn5KDbEI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YnfsLDDysT0/s1600-h/cute+kid3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091433313797893186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="182" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqhnn5KDbEI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YnfsLDDysT0/s320/cute+kid3.jpg" width="281" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I like every thing about kids….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is hard to raise a kid, but I guess the feeling that he/she creates inside parents worth the effort….Monk I can’t blame u …kids r absolutely &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rqhm8JKDbBI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-oLteXH9Y3Q/s1600-h/cute+kid3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;irresistible…. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhnLpKDbCI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Z-Jyv99cTe4/s1600-h/cute+kid2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3736649373554848996?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3736649373554848996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3736649373554848996&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3736649373554848996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3736649373554848996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/never-expected-that-from-u-monk.html' title='Never expected that from u Monk….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhmI5KDa_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/wM3Hx48H8Fs/s72-c/cute+kid1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-7022261001648552004</id><published>2007-07-26T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:02.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a dream!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhVgJKDa-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/-Ej-1N5LtJg/s1600-h/blooging+dream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091413389444606946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhVgJKDa-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/-Ej-1N5LtJg/s320/blooging+dream.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I had a weird dream, and this is not the point, since I have weird dreams all the time, and I ask for the explanation of it all the time…but the weird thing is that I dreamed that I was in a situation, and I was thinking about blogging about it…I guess blogging is part of my life right now…since it is clearly part of my dreams..:D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-7022261001648552004?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/7022261001648552004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=7022261001648552004&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7022261001648552004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7022261001648552004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-had-dream.html' title='I had a dream!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqhVgJKDa-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/-Ej-1N5LtJg/s72-c/blooging+dream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-9019175799752456518</id><published>2007-07-24T03:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:02.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DAD.....thank U</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqXTu5KDa8I/AAAAAAAAAD8/L4S8Pq1dPMc/s1600-h/dad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090707756382645186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqXTu5KDa8I/AAAAAAAAAD8/L4S8Pq1dPMc/s320/dad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it comes to thanking you dad, I think of million of things I can thank u for, your care, continues concern, unlimited giving….and the list can go on and on…&lt;br /&gt;Today, I’m thanking u for raising me with good manner. Thanks cause u planted in me loving others, helping them whenever it is possible. U were a great example for me, no one ever complained from u, since u never hurt any one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going in different situations in life made me realized that ur way in raising us taught us how to stick to the right side, fight for our believes and ideas, never commit a mistake, even if every one is doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad…thanks&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqXUTpKDa9I/AAAAAAAAAEE/w16qM49H55c/s1600-h/raising+a+child.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090708387742837714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px" height="309" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqXUTpKDa9I/AAAAAAAAAEE/w16qM49H55c/s320/raising+a+child.jpg" width="256" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for ur good genes…. (I forgive u for the bad ones), I’m proud of my ability to stay calm and never lose a temper, I enjoy that I’m a great believer in destiny, which most of ppl claim they believe in it, but once they r truly tested…they worthily fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll always appreciate giving me the right to make decisions in my life, giving me freedom after showing me the right way….in a world were a female is to obey rules…and take orders…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks dad for bearing me, my unfinished requests, my slips and mistakes….thanks for being such a great tauter …and above all…THANKS FOR BEING MY DAD. LOVE U DAD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I wrote this while I was so upset of my dad, but still I can’t stop admiring him.&lt;br /&gt;another P.S. i wrote this blog cuz i'm proud of dad, not myself(even though i'm)&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/6938622122333953371-9019175799752456518?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/9019175799752456518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=9019175799752456518&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/9019175799752456518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/9019175799752456518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/dadthank-u.html' title='DAD.....thank U'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqXTu5KDa8I/AAAAAAAAAD8/L4S8Pq1dPMc/s72-c/dad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-958909781071815251</id><published>2007-07-24T00:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T01:04:21.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally…she is in love…but….</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;She is new in her work, still checking the people around. She’ll never forget that day, sitting in her manager’s office and here he passes. He was the one she was dreaming about all the time, she never felt like that toward any one, all the guys she met were kids to her, but his one…he is the man of her dreams….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never believed in love from 1st sight, she thought people talking about that are silly and so shallow….how do they think?? Love is not about how u look, it is much more than that…so how could she?? And she is the one laughing at others’ stories…..now she is sure…feelings are never controlled…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Waaw…he entered the office, defiantly he is not a model, he is not pretty, but he sure knows how to make her heart illogically jumps, she is plashing, she can even feels the heat in her face…her whole body…and the worst thing.. she can’t hide this obvious spark in her eyes…..he says hi, welcomes her in the company…asks her typical questions…and she answers with this weak…trembling voice…..she knew at that time she is in love…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her manager: “Mr. M, u have gained weight!!”&lt;br /&gt;Her love: “yah man….it is marriage (bragging) ..u know…newly wed”……WAW….what a shock…it took her a while that is not short to get back from far away thinking…..her hopes went away with the winds….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days passe by…..they are getting good friends, and even though she does not agree with very essential thoughts he holds… she enjoys talking to him, spending time with him, her happiness can’t be measured when he shows interest in her, she even does her best to get his attention…and gets him like her even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no way to hide her feelings; her big, un-erasable smile always exposed her … her plashed face, and the way she fixes her look, perfume, and make up before going to him…were so clear, a blind can see them….she is entirely attracted to him……&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep inside…she knew she does not have the right to love him, it is a love from one side, even if it was from both sides…it is not her right….nor his…he has a family now…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going through upsides- downsides ….she lived her life, struggling the inner feeling of guilt…she has to be able to control her feelings, she is a strong person, never been weak…….but she never could….she decided to control her acts…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years later, she left her job, a job that one factor to stay in, is to keep close to him, see him every day and hear his voice…she even hated to wear green, cause when she does, she doesn’t see him that day….she decided not to wear green….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is away now….but still compares each guy with him, has this fantasy dreams about dancing with him and being held in his arms. Her heart still starts to beat in a bloodcurdling way when she sees his name calling her on mobile….she still wants to call him for the silliest reason…. And then she thanks God she was able to hold herself and never call….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her prayers are: “Please God, give me strength, and let me get over this….Please God…give me strength to do the right thing…and never hurt any one…including myself”….. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-958909781071815251?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/958909781071815251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=958909781071815251&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/958909781071815251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/958909781071815251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/finallyshe-is-in-lovebut.html' title='Finally…she is in love…but….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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-6938622122333953371.post-828228648344723429</id><published>2007-07-23T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:03.251-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time passes by….</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWjAJKDa5I/AAAAAAAAADk/6pEmR_5jKwc/s1600-h/flaying+time.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090654176665627538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWjAJKDa5I/AAAAAAAAADk/6pEmR_5jKwc/s320/flaying+time.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yesterday I went to see my best friend, we have been friends for more than 11 years, being class mates was the beginning, then we traveled together, and relation got stronger cause as they say u get to know the reality of person when u travel with him/her. Thanks to Allah we still best friends, and I know that I can count on her each time I need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life gets us busy, and every one gets occupied with his personal manners. Because of that, time passes and u don’t get the chance to meet a friend and hang together, u just get satisfied with the phone, email and sms…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend got married 1.5 year ago, now she has this lovely girl…she is so cute. .ma sha2 allah ( I love kids by the way)…it has been a while since I saw her last time, and u know kids, they grow up very fast, so a week will make a big difference. So.. I saw her yesterday…u know when I saw her mother carrying her in coat ….. I was like…: “waw…time passes by…we just loose the sense of time…. I still have the feeling that we r kids playing in school yard…waw…time passes in an eye blink….”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After one month, it will be my 27th birthday; it is the time where I evaluate my whole year, what I have done so far, what goals I have achieved, what new things I have learned, and what plans I have for future. I have never thought that my 27th birthday will co&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWjK5KDa6I/AAAAAAAAADs/1tL0FVZTEeg/s1600-h/freezed+clock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090654361349221282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" height="247" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWjK5KDa6I/AAAAAAAAADs/1tL0FVZTEeg/s320/freezed+clock.jpg" width="191" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;me while I’m still confused and lacking settlement in life…. I’m really confused…and enormous thoughts r flying in my head…I guess I have one month to make up my mind about many things….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking for a pic to this blog…I found a freezed clock…I guess deep inside ourselves we wish to freeze time…or even to control it…. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-828228648344723429?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/828228648344723429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=828228648344723429&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/828228648344723429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/828228648344723429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/time-passes-by.html' title='Time passes by….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWjAJKDa5I/AAAAAAAAADk/6pEmR_5jKwc/s72-c/flaying+time.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-8264719820589301624</id><published>2007-07-23T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:03.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday ..I cried…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWU2JKDa4I/AAAAAAAAADc/rHjTpNw2U4M/s1600-h/crying+baby1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090638611704146818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px" height="297" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWU2JKDa4I/AAAAAAAAADc/rHjTpNw2U4M/s320/crying+baby1.jpg" width="229" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been a bad end, for a nice day. Last night I went to sleep crying, it has been a while since I cried, I was feeling that I made a great progress in stopping myself from crying, but yesterday was a defeat for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cry like a baby, worse, I cry more, every thing makes me cry….a sad memory, a crying baby, a seen in a movie, unhappy song…name it…a person with red eye…someone with a tear in his eye (even though I know it is an eye drop)…I cry…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is healthy to cry (not all the time of course), it washes the eyes and the soul, not to mention how much it is good for heart, where u keep no hard feelings inside. But what I don’t like is the weakness that is so associated with tears, it just affects our image. I hate to look weak, but I can’t control my tears. More than once, I thought about going&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWTwJKDa3I/AAAAAAAAADU/tVxSHi8d3GI/s1600-h/crying+baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090637409113303922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 252px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px" height="203" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWTwJKDa3I/AAAAAAAAADU/tVxSHi8d3GI/s320/crying+baby.jpg" width="242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; to a Doctor, to see if he can block the tear channels in my eyes so I don’t cry any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried yesterday, because I felt of injustice. Whatever I do for family and people, I never get credit, I know I should not wait for it, but still, it hurts that all of your efforts to please others are ignored, and never appreciated. It is not fair, to treat kids without justice. To prefer someone over the other, even the other is more committed to u…… that’s why I cried…..&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/6938622122333953371-8264719820589301624?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/8264719820589301624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=8264719820589301624&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8264719820589301624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/8264719820589301624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/yesterday-i-cried.html' title='Yesterday ..I cried…'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqWU2JKDa4I/AAAAAAAAADc/rHjTpNw2U4M/s72-c/crying+baby1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-5642091359052838074</id><published>2007-07-22T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:03.912-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We love old songs, why??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;When I was so young, I couldn’t understand why old people( parents, relatives, teachers…name it) love old songs, Fayrooz, Om Kalthoom, Abd el Haleem, and many others. I know that you maybe saying thousands of reasons in your head: it is the real art, the good music, the sweet voice, the meaningful lyrics ..etc… &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqRM-JKDa2I/AAAAAAAAADM/QA-Kd8jytnE/s1600-h/old+singer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090278109329189730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqRM-JKDa2I/AAAAAAAAADM/QA-Kd8jytnE/s320/old+singer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, I guess it is not those reasons for loving those songs, since there are very nice, sweet new songs, and with time passing, we change, and so our taste. Growing up, made me realized, that we love old songs, for the sweet memories they have, for the time stage we were living in, for the people were in our lives at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy hearing old songs, there was this song: “Mariam maryamtee…3enee mariama…”, it was in the late 80’s as I think, I used to hear it daily, and even though my name is not mariam, but I liked to think he was singing to me, so I used to go to the roof(el sate7) and start to dangle my hair, similar to what he is singing…strange I’m smiling right now just because of thinking of it…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my new job, there is a girl, she played old songs on her PC, so. I was like the one who found a treasure… “plz….can u give them to me…. Sure..no problem…” and since then I start my morning with those beautiful songs….now I’m listening to .. “nattarne..nattarnee 3ala el shebaak…”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-5642091359052838074?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/5642091359052838074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=5642091359052838074&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5642091359052838074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5642091359052838074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/we-love-old-songs-why.html' title='We love old songs, why??'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqRM-JKDa2I/AAAAAAAAADM/QA-Kd8jytnE/s72-c/old+singer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-4738482060523206439</id><published>2007-07-21T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:04.042-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is hard to live in a plus size body!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089919093012917074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="208" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqMGcpKDa1I/AAAAAAAAADE/QT4lwGC9pD0/s320/tall.jpg" width="148" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For guys, I know it is hard to understand what I’m talking about, unless they looked at it from a female point view, which is I know not an easy thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been growing up, living in a plus size body, and writing this is not an easy thing to do, but I thought to write it down. I wont talk about how weight and height, affect the way ppl look at me, and think of me, cause this is not our issue here, but I’ll talk about how it affects me….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the time of school, they used to reserve the last seat for me, since I was the tallest. I wished to be in the front seats, since I was a very good student, with high marks, polite, and so alert to what the teacher says…(in brief… an ideal student…)…but I could not…they wanted other girls to see!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated transportation means, especially buses. The seats were so small, and I had to bend my knees in order to fit in, it was a great feeling when I bought my own car, since I had the luxury to fix the chair the way it fits me..:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that day in the ergonomic lab. Where we had to measure up, and use the batch details to design a chair or a workstation, according to average and dimensions taken. Every one knew that those measurements belong to me, I hated the fact that every one was able to maintain her/his measurements classified, except me….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day, there was this lady, she is a short one, and she tried to step up on a stair, so she reached me, she laughed and said: “poor kid, they said that u r arrogant( by the way I’m completely the opposite…most of the time) , but it seems that since u r taller than most of us, u had to bend and look from above down to them, that is why they think u look with arrogance)….I was like shocked…this is the 1st time I get the explanation why ppl say the I’m arrogant before they even know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not saying that it is a disadvantage all the time, it is true that being tall, and over weight give me this older look, but that made ppl deal with me as an older person, more mature and even wiser than other, and I think that planted leadership in my character….and made me the person ppl ask for help and advice when they can not find the solution…..so I guess it is not that bad after all…..&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/6938622122333953371-4738482060523206439?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4738482060523206439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4738482060523206439&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4738482060523206439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4738482060523206439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-is-hard-to-live-in-plus-size-body.html' title='It is hard to live in a plus size body!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqMGcpKDa1I/AAAAAAAAADE/QT4lwGC9pD0/s72-c/tall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-792999322550449644</id><published>2007-07-21T23:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:04.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We just have this tendency to DISLIKE!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqL8bZKDa0I/AAAAAAAAAC8/UJQnfBeJDRQ/s1600-h/dislike1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089908076421802818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" height="228" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqL8bZKDa0I/AAAAAAAAAC8/UJQnfBeJDRQ/s320/dislike1.jpg" width="206" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think since it is the time for weddings, and at least two or three weddings a week is the normal average in summer time, my ideas are so related to weddings…and here is one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it so strange that we have this strong tendency to dislike every thing, every act, look, gesture people make. Wish that was all, we tend to criticize every thing. I find this behavior very obvious in weddings. In the wedding, we start it, and never end it…the bride, her gown, the groom, his suit, the hall, the car, their dancing, how much gold did he buy to her, and lots of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not saying that I don’t care about that stuff, I do, but I don’t criticize. Whether they have shown great affection or not, whether they have danced a lot or not, whether they bought gold or even accessories. It is up to them, the&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqL8EJKDazI/AAAAAAAAAC0/vYve26ZqjXM/s1600-h/dislike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089907676989844274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" height="235" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RqL8EJKDazI/AAAAAAAAAC0/vYve26ZqjXM/s320/dislike.jpg" width="206" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y can dance the way they wish (I enjoy the saying that you should dance as if no one is watching u), they can hug, kiss as they wish…it is there wedding after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst thing, when u go to a wedding, and there is buffet, if it was fancy, they would say…he is showing off, if it was not, they would say…what a cheapskate he is…and nothing will ever satisfy them…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just thought, I wish ppl stop criticizing others…. And start to think how they should improve themselves as a start…. &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/6938622122333953371-792999322550449644?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/792999322550449644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=792999322550449644&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/792999322550449644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/792999322550449644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/we-just-have-this-tendency-to-dislike.html' title='We just have this tendency to DISLIKE!!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RqL8bZKDa0I/AAAAAAAAAC8/UJQnfBeJDRQ/s72-c/dislike1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-4766682907348363255</id><published>2007-07-17T03:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:04.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate when people give instructions..!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I hate it when people give instruction, whether you need it or not, whether they know what they are talking about or not, they just like to talk and talk, so they make u feel: “what the hill I have done, so u got the idea I can not do it right??”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not saying that we should not listen to what others think; on the contrary, it is very good to take an advice, I even ask for it, but that when I know that I need it. That day, I was in a wedding party&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rpyat-pBiNI/AAAAAAAAACs/ZiGhhsqUPxM/s1600-h/ponokio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088111793721673938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="210" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rpyat-pBiNI/AAAAAAAAACs/ZiGhhsqUPxM/s320/ponokio.jpg" width="166" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;…there are those ladies, who serve at the party, and the photographer, not to mention gussets…all of those people, they start to tell the bride, the groom how to move, act, take pictures, dance, smile…even how to look at each other…GOD…it is not your business guys…they r free to do what they wish…as if u all had the best moments, and you r experts when it comes to weddings and parties…ifff…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please mom excuse me for saying the following…I do know that u wish me the best, and that u want to teach me every thing u know, so I’ll be perfect in doing things, but please get the idea that I have grown up, I’m old enough to do thing in my way…choose what to wear, where to hang out, with whom, what to eat, when, what to watch, when to wake up and sleep..…for God’s sakes…I’m a manager, they take my opinions in sensitive, critical issues…..and I have  managed to be a successful person in this life…so why don’t u believe in me, and just admit it that I can depend on myself……please mom know…I’ll never give up on ur advices, I’ll always need them, and be sure…I’ll ask for them… so plz.....believe in me...love u mom&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/6938622122333953371-4766682907348363255?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4766682907348363255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4766682907348363255&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4766682907348363255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4766682907348363255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-hate-when-people-give-instructions.html' title='I hate when people give instructions..!!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/Rpyat-pBiNI/AAAAAAAAACs/ZiGhhsqUPxM/s72-c/ponokio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-3294708870454963986</id><published>2007-07-17T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:04.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have been known with my smile….</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpyF6OpBiKI/AAAAAAAAACU/fZNlkooBvrA/s1600-h/smile.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the 2nd time to meet someone from my university, in batches other than mine. She is a girl that is one year older than me, and now we work together in the same organization. I knew her, just by her look, never talked to her. So we were talking, and then she said: “I knew u before, I used to know u because u always smiled”…. I was like: “ ah wallah!!!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpyIfOpBiMI/AAAAAAAAACk/tyEUgT_6gMY/s1600-h/smile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088091749109303490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="175" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpyIfOpBiMI/AAAAAAAAACk/tyEUgT_6gMY/s320/smile.jpg" width="163" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; U know me by my smile?” to tell u the truth I was happy of that….it made feel that I can be noticed by my acts more than my look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, this is not the 1st time, I once met this guy, 1 year younger than me, and he used to study in my college, he told me the same thing. I guess I have this charming smile, that people can not forget…lol…(so humble, right??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many things can make me smile, a pretty cat in the street, a kid’s laugh, beautiful rose, a song I like, an email/call from a friend…name it any silly sweet thing can draw a smile on my face….and I feel that it is very healthy to smile, even if things are not working the way they should…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two months ago, I have this new job, people here don’t laugh, they just don’t, I feel so odd when I smile, any way…one morning, the guy on the reception, stopped me and asked: “can I tell u something?”.&lt;br /&gt;Me: “plz…. go ahead”&lt;br /&gt;him: “u started working here with this smile, in the morning, afternoon, and each time u pass by, but now, the smile is gone, I guess I can say that u r an official employee in our institution.”&lt;br /&gt;Me: “shocked- trying not show that I agree with him- no no…it is only the hot weather.”&lt;br /&gt;Him: “I wish….”&lt;br /&gt;Me: no …I’m sure…u’ll see…and went away with this artificial smile on my face….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of what he said, it is true, I stopped smiling the way I used to do, one factor was that I have this feeling that I don’t really fit here, I haven’t made any friendships, and I guess I will not be making any in the near future, even though I’m a person who lives by socializing with ppl…I guess. I feel so lonely….that is the reason why I lost my smile….I guess I have to retrieve it…whatever this takes …I’ll fight till I get it back…J&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-3294708870454963986?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/3294708870454963986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=3294708870454963986&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3294708870454963986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/3294708870454963986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-have-been-known-with-my-smile.html' title='I have been known with my smile….'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RpyIfOpBiMI/AAAAAAAAACk/tyEUgT_6gMY/s72-c/smile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-5712042050650824335</id><published>2007-07-16T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:04.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I wonder why tend to compete??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that this post is going to meaningless, I can’t get the ideas that organized, but still…I guess it is better to write it than to just stay wondering about it…. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rps0OepBiII/AAAAAAAAACE/a2O_cssRe0w/s1600-h/swimming+race.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087717627393050754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px" height="226" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rps0OepBiII/AAAAAAAAACE/a2O_cssRe0w/s320/swimming+race.jpg" width="121" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can’t get it why we tend to compete? We compete in every thing, we r eager to be the best, the prettiest, the richest, the fastest, the youngest…..etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day I was swimming in the pool, then I started to compete with the girls who wins the race, and yes…I won each time, whoever was the girl (not like I’m so fast, but they were sooooo slow)... it was an overwhelming feeling…the feeling of victory…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, I was driving, and there was this guy…having a Cadillac 4*4, it was just a look, then we started to race, it was such a hilarious situation, me in my sweet DAEWoo…and him in his giant powerful car, he started to laugh, and my eyes were filled with laughing tears….but the point is that I won the race…(I know it is unexpected ..but I did…thanks to the car in front of him)…and I was like…feeling very blissful… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rps0pupBiJI/AAAAAAAAACM/6h_UamgDKbQ/s1600-h/car+race.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087718095544486034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="130" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/Rps0pupBiJI/AAAAAAAAACM/6h_UamgDKbQ/s320/car+race.jpg" width="256" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls tend to compete in many things, I just like it when two or more start to compete in dancing to show who is the best in dancing…they just go on and on the show that she is the best…I guess it is in the unconscious mind that we compete to show how feminine we r, just like men when they start to wrestle, to know who is the strongest…and show that he has this manhood…&lt;br /&gt;I just was wondering…I guess I’ll keep wondering… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-5712042050650824335?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/5712042050650824335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=5712042050650824335&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5712042050650824335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/5712042050650824335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-wonder-why-tend-to-compete.html' title='I wonder why tend to compete??'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/Rps0OepBiII/AAAAAAAAACE/a2O_cssRe0w/s72-c/swimming+race.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-4778178057996107521</id><published>2007-07-11T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:05.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you r busy..then I envy you!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that you may be surprised, but this is the truth, I envy busy people. It is the nature of human beings to complain all the time of being busy, and having a lot of work&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSlq5uMPQI/AAAAAAAAAB0/iDabb5zl5AI/s1600-h/busy1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085872035675782402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="180" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSlq5uMPQI/AAAAAAAAAB0/iDabb5zl5AI/s320/busy1.jpg" width="206" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; to do, for me it is exactly the opposite, I like to get busy, having lots of things to do, whether it is at work or in social life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting busy keeps your mind away of thinking in the past, the future; it just keeps your mind in the current moment. The day passes very fast, and at the end of a busy day, u r thrilled with the feeling that you have been a productive person. But as they say, things do not always work the way u wish, when I graduated from university, I searched for a job that utilizes my skills, and enriches my knowledge, unfortunately, I got that job where I’m the manager of myself, I was so free to work or not, no one could understand my work, and ultimately, could not estimate the effort I do, or the time I need to do the job….in brief…I was working depending on my mood, which is -by the way-…so moody…lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had changed my job lately, and unfortunately, I’m facing the same problem, even worse, work time is less, I have 2 days off, and during the week, I have nothing to do. My manager is always away, so I do whatever I like. So again I’m free.:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSl2JuMPRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/qw7Il8KQYQI/s1600-h/busyhome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085872228949310738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px" height="242" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSl2JuMPRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/qw7Il8KQYQI/s320/busyhome.jpg" width="136" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work, I try to get myself occupied with anything: gym, swimming, walking(alone to relief stress, and get ideas together) , going out with friends (if they r busy - they r most of the times-I go out with my sisters), going to parties with family...taking courses if possible, and searching for new things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people say that don’t rush it, u’ll be busy one day…so enjoy ur free time…I guess I’ll wait that day…but until then, I’ll try to find more things to do…. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-4778178057996107521?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4778178057996107521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4778178057996107521&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4778178057996107521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4778178057996107521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/if-you-r-busythen-i-envy-you.html' title='If you r busy..then I envy you!!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSlq5uMPQI/AAAAAAAAAB0/iDabb5zl5AI/s72-c/busy1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-4004669297870299794</id><published>2007-07-11T01:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:05.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Dancing!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes..dancing….I love dancing very much, I enjoy all the types of it…I consider dancing is a great way to revile your feelings and emotions. I like to think of dancing as an approach of sending messages without saying any thing.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSPtZuMPMI/AAAAAAAAABU/KL6aKmcE2Bc/s1600-h/dance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085847889369644226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px" height="266" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSPtZuMPMI/AAAAAAAAABU/KL6aKmcE2Bc/s320/dance.jpg" width="202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I enjoy watching couples when they dance together, the girl trying to seduce her guy, and the boy is trying to impress her, the greatest thing is going back and forth, with those looks and eye contact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like belly dancing in particular (cuz this is the type of dancing we really practice in the Middle East). Once, I had this dissection with a girl I knew, she was saying that she will have a classic band, to play classic music in her wedding, and there will be no dancing. As far, I had nothing to tell her, since this is her wedding, and she is totally free to do whatever she wishes…after all, it is her day. Then she added: “dancing is a stupid thing to do, it is just stupid, the moves, the way of dancing, and I believe that no one should dance unless he/ she is professional”. The truth I did not like her way in talking, I thought she was absolutely mistaken, since she missed the whole point of dancing, all creatures dance, including human being since ages…professionals, were found after practicing, and enjoying dancing for long long times…I don’t why I didn’t argue with her about that, I guess cuz I felt that she will stick to her point view…and I hate to go into arguments with ppl not ready to listen to the other point view and think about it before making their minds. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSPkJuMPLI/AAAAAAAAABM/-VtoEXoAuR4/s1600-h/dance1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085847730455854258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="222" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSPkJuMPLI/AAAAAAAAABM/-VtoEXoAuR4/s320/dance1.jpg" width="224" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In weddings, I don’t participate in dancing, unless it’s a relative’s, a friend’s wedding. I have these perquisites and ceremonies for dancing that include dressing up, wearing make up, with hair allover shoulders and laude music playing in the background. After each party, and when I get back home, I play some music and start to dance…I can go for hours and hours…watching my hair in the mirror and imagining my couple dancing with me…lol…I guess this can be called stupidity…. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-4004669297870299794?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4004669297870299794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4004669297870299794&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4004669297870299794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4004669297870299794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-love-dancing.html' title='I Love Dancing!!'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RpSPtZuMPMI/AAAAAAAAABU/KL6aKmcE2Bc/s72-c/dance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-2283790363289161005</id><published>2007-07-10T02:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:05.694-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpNXopuMPKI/AAAAAAAAABE/V4yM-pxX_DQ/s1600-h/singer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085504760137399458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpNXopuMPKI/AAAAAAAAABE/V4yM-pxX_DQ/s320/singer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just love this song…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in my way to work, listening to one of my favorite radio channel, Sawt al ghad, they played an old song i used to hear when I was a child. The song is called “asfoor tal men el shebak”…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this song, for many reasons, 1st it is so Representative and touchy. It is so generic, when I was a little girl, I used to think of prisoners in Palestine, and how they suffer and long for freedom. Growing up, I realized that not only prisoners are suffering in life, many people who r living outside walls are struggling with prisons, their prisons, or prisons imposed on them, sometimes thoughts r the hardest prisons to break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though this song is a sad one, but I love it, it draw this wide smile on my face…I guess cause it reminded me with childhood, Palestine (homeland), and may be it enabled me to see the whole seen where this wounded bird is struggling to survive…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a great way to start your day with a smile, so thanks for u sawt el ghad…and many thanks for u Omaima for this touchy…elegant voice u have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-2283790363289161005?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/2283790363289161005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=2283790363289161005&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2283790363289161005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/2283790363289161005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-just-love-this-song-today-in-my-way.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RpNXopuMPKI/AAAAAAAAABE/V4yM-pxX_DQ/s72-c/singer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-4775963845875251752</id><published>2007-07-08T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:05.891-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpHURpuMPII/AAAAAAAAAA0/jb5ntT9eeBs/s1600-h/wedding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085078854000458882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpHURpuMPII/AAAAAAAAAA0/jb5ntT9eeBs/s320/wedding.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happiness absolutely has no rules!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went to one of my mom relatives’ wedding. The wedding was much below average. If I’m to evaluate according to my standards, it will be a complete failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As start, the hall …ummmm what to say…small, hot, the chairs were..yakkee…and the hostesses were so scary. The DJ was awful, I can do a very much better work than she did in choosing and playing songs. The bride’s gown was not that pretty, she was not wearing make up( and she is not a pretty at all), her hair was not that great, the groom’s suit was ugly, with his unexplainable tie!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is the important thing here? Weddings differ, and I have gone to weddings that I did not like before, so why is that that important to talk about this wedding? It is the happiness that was showing at the faces of the married couple. They were like couple of birds, enjoying heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They danced freely, having arms all around, with this big un-hidden smile, singing for each other. I have been into weddings much more expensive, more organized, beautiful gowns, suits, cars, girls and guys, a better DJ, and Diffidently a better service, but I missed happiness floating in the atmosphere. All the happiness in their eyes made me truly wonder, there are no rules for happiness, it is not money, beauty, education……nothing controls it, it is rule-less …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another question popped-up into my head, are they going to maintain their love? Are they going to have this obvious affection for ever? I wish…I really wish to revive my faith in love, and social relationships…I do really wish them Good Luck. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-4775963845875251752?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/4775963845875251752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=4775963845875251752&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4775963845875251752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/4775963845875251752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/happiness-absolutely-has-no-rules.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RpHURpuMPII/AAAAAAAAAA0/jb5ntT9eeBs/s72-c/wedding.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-6944651980368950390</id><published>2007-07-08T00:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:05.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lied…L&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate to lie, I can’t lie, but I lied…and guess what, I lied at my father!!..&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpCSQJuMPHI/AAAAAAAAAAs/VLxNrYBXA1A/s1600-h/lire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084724785486511218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="182" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpCSQJuMPHI/AAAAAAAAAAs/VLxNrYBXA1A/s320/lire.jpg" width="214" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the most honest, ideal person I know. Some times, I disagree with dad, he is about 30 years older than me, which makes it a whole generation separating between us, not to mention, life has changed, it changes every day..and unless we try to adapt with it, we’ll be so exhausted…I just give up sometimes, trying to convi&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpCR_puMPGI/AAAAAAAAAAk/jbM9W_ttWhw/s1600-h/lire.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nce dad that life has changed, and that there is nothing wrong with the things we are doing being young people trying to enjoy life, and still not violating the rules we have been raised on…..he just does not listen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lie sometimes. I try to hide my face, I avoid eye contact as much as I can, I struggle to hide my childish smile that will un-cover my whole lie…and then- if I’m gone with it- I have to deal with the feeling of guilt…I hate that…I just wish I’d change and become a more better liar …I mean actor….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you dad…I’m sorry…I wish I can say it to you directly…but I guess I can’t…even though it is a very …tiny…innocent lie…. &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/6938622122333953371-6944651980368950390?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/6944651980368950390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=6944651980368950390&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6944651980368950390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/6944651980368950390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-liedl-i-hate-to-lie-i-cant-lie-but-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RpCSQJuMPHI/AAAAAAAAAAs/VLxNrYBXA1A/s72-c/lire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-7039620170460684051</id><published>2007-07-07T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:06.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Yes I’m single…so what??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only two months and I’ll turn 27…each day, I got faced with this question: “you are single!! not married!! Not engaged!!”..and my answer is: yes…yes I’m single….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the habit of all people to interfere with our lives, and tell us what do, how to do it, and even when to do it…..that day I was enjoying my favorite sport…swimming…a sweet little girl had a very nice conservation with me (she is 11 years old by the way), she was telling me that she is the only daughter in her family..so I told her what a good luck she has…then she asked: “do u have a daughter?” I replayed: No, “then a boy?”, I also replied: No, I don’t have any…I’m single…and here another lady jumped into the conservation…. “Is she your daughter?” I was like….for God’s sake…she is 11 years, that means had to deliver &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpCHv5uMPFI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ViJs6L97rLA/s1600-h/wedding+ring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084713236319452242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RpCHv5uMPFI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ViJs6L97rLA/s320/wedding+ring.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;her when I was 16 …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is time to find my soul mate…I really wish I do…cause I really need him in many aspects of my life…but up to now I could not find any, and he has not found me yet too(I guess I’ll talk about this later)…..but what to do?!, it is never in our hands…it is all about destiny…the problem here, if I was a guy, it would be much easer to pretend that you don’t want to get married…but when u r a female…it is never allowed to declare that u don’t want to get married…God forbidden.. you do…so questions will be all around..: “you have someone in your life?”, or even worse…: “what have you done so you don’t want to get married?” ….they are never convinced that u just did not find the person of your dreams…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last thing to mention, is that I can not stop myself from laughing when they start the compliments: “ guys must be blind so that they can see u” ( don’t get the idea that I have this irresistible charm, I’m less than average) , or when you r at the wedding of someone.. and you get this prayer: “may God send u the sweetest guy” , in our words: “Allah eb3atlek ebn el 7alal, or even worse…Allah ya3teeke…J&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-7039620170460684051?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/7039620170460684051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=7039620170460684051&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7039620170460684051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7039620170460684051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/yes-im-singleso-what-only-two-months.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RpCHv5uMPFI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ViJs6L97rLA/s72-c/wedding+ring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6938622122333953371.post-7568921158143392132</id><published>2007-07-03T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:25:06.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1st time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It has been a week or more since I started to read blogs…I liked the idea…it give&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RotE2JuMPEI/AAAAAAAAAAU/b754kcZg4po/s1600-h/no+idea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083232301531020354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 159px" height="168" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qE84a5v3abE/RotE2JuMPEI/AAAAAAAAAAU/b754kcZg4po/s320/no+idea.jpg" width="231" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;s u the freedom to talk and express ur feelings and ideas…even if they r so crazy or even don’t make any kind of sense…right now I don’t have any specific idea to talk about..a very strange thing is that we u start to read all the ideas just vanish from ur head…I guess in the coming days I’ll be writing my ideas once they pop-up in my head…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6938622122333953371-7568921158143392132?l=miss-sealover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/feeds/7568921158143392132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6938622122333953371&amp;postID=7568921158143392132&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7568921158143392132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6938622122333953371/posts/default/7568921158143392132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-sealover.blogspot.com/2007/07/1st-time.html' title='1st time'/><author><name>Miss sea lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18384259184833641235</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/_qE84a5v3abE/RotE2JuMPEI/AAAAAAAAAAU/b754kcZg4po/s72-c/no+idea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
