<?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-3151529061317308431</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:13:57.912-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Live For The Moment.</title><subtitle type='html'>Things that make up my mind.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-5420883933993182333</id><published>2010-06-21T18:54:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T23:52:58.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight Months, One Day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/TCAaLIKq8nI/AAAAAAAAAH0/HXZYGFGKBr4/s1600/silhouettes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/TCAaLIKq8nI/AAAAAAAAAH0/HXZYGFGKBr4/s320/silhouettes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485413124610388594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been eight months and one day since I last wrote something here. I guess I just wasn't &lt;i&gt;feeling it&lt;/i&gt;. But I do now, I truly do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many things have happened during that time. Some were great memories, others were just that, memories. During those eight months and one day I learned &lt;b&gt;a lot&lt;/b&gt;. There were days when I wanted to quit, to leave everything and just run away. Run to the place where my friends were, to that place where everything's fine and there's no sadness. I was sad for days, because things changed in my life and I wasn't ready to accept those changes. I wasn't content with the school I'm in and I felt disappointed. I made a really good friend during my first semester but when the second one started, he just drifted apart and I didn't know why.. I felt alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But he, he made it all better, he always does. I started hanging out more and more with him, I took photographs, I was happy. Around February, I had an accident while I was working out. I had to go to the hospital but he took good care of me that day. I couldn't go to the gym for a while and he decided he wanted to go so I wasn't able to see him because of our school schedule and the activities we had. Those weeks were the worst because even though I talked to some of my classmates, I spent the afternoons on my own. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lonely days in a very small town where there's nothing to do may seem to be lonelier than a lonely day in the city. So, I told my parents I wanted to leave and go back to Mexico City but they told me (more like convinced me) to stay there a little more because they worried too much when I was in Mexico. I was still sad but I started to focus all my sadness on something else. I read, and I liked what I read. It helped me understand a lot of things. I kept reading and somehow all the words made sense. I started hanging out with some friends who later on became really good friends and met new ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was then when I learned to cherish every single moment, even the bad ones. I know it may sound easy to just 'live for the moment' but it really isn't. I find it difficult at times and I bet everyone who's tried it has felt the same at some point of their lives. I guess the important thing is to be &lt;b&gt;AWARE&lt;/b&gt; of being alive, to understand that our whole lives can change in a fraction of a second.. I'm alive today but who knows if tomorrow I'll be. I've wasted to much energy being sad, or even angry, but that's the beauty of it, I'm alive! I can feel all kinds of emotions! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those eight months and a day have made me the way I am and I don't regret a single thing. I'm alive and happy for just being alive.. and as a song I like says: '&lt;i&gt;we can build a new tomorrow, today&lt;/i&gt;.' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-5420883933993182333?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/5420883933993182333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2010/06/eight-months-one-day.html#comment-form' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/5420883933993182333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/5420883933993182333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2010/06/eight-months-one-day.html' title='Eight Months, One Day.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/TCAaLIKq8nI/AAAAAAAAAH0/HXZYGFGKBr4/s72-c/silhouettes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-1644059898589767858</id><published>2009-10-20T11:09:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T11:29:38.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothingness.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/St3jgVpX87I/AAAAAAAAAHs/t1Hr4rzqYHo/s1600-h/PA100218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394718073365722034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/St3jgVpX87I/AAAAAAAAAHs/t1Hr4rzqYHo/s320/PA100218.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;October's nearly over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and my blog continues being sober..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time has flown by really fast&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but my feelings still last.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Distance may tear us apart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but Twitter prevents that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll write something nice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;when my homework finally subsides.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's my advice for now,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;live for the moment and never look back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;This is the crappiest poem ever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Don't judge me too harsh. :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-1644059898589767858?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/1644059898589767858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/10/nothingness.html#comment-form' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1644059898589767858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1644059898589767858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/10/nothingness.html' title='Nothingness.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/St3jgVpX87I/AAAAAAAAAHs/t1Hr4rzqYHo/s72-c/PA100218.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6960560430790248805</id><published>2009-09-20T14:18:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T00:32:49.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sra7lUzbDpI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Yo41AGMKwJQ/s1600-h/ramaaa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383696654481952402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 289px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sra7lUzbDpI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Yo41AGMKwJQ/s400/ramaaa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes I feel the urge to scream at the top of my lungs no matter who's hearing.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel the need to let him know I'm there and that I'll always be there for him.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I want to cry without having a good reason for doing so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I feel as if I were on top of the world, invincible.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I want to escape from everything and everyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wish that I could have superpowers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to run. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I'm scared. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I don't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish that I could stay in an instant forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to know eveything but at the same time I don't.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I'm sad because I can't change some things about my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to go back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I miss him so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I don't want to grow old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wish I could fly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I feel as if I were a butterfly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I can't make it alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I feel so alone, it hurts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I'm so happy I can't contain myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wish teletransportation existed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to kiss him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wish I could trust less in the persons I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes my mind's out of place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to keep going, no matter what.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I'm sure that he'll come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I feel lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I get lost on his eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes time stops.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes time flies by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I'm afraid to lose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I lose myself in one instant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I imagine myself with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I fear that you may get tired of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to swim into the deep ocean just til I can touch the bottom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to talk to him again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want you to feel the way I do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I want to be somewhere else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6960560430790248805?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6960560430790248805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/09/sometimes.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6960560430790248805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6960560430790248805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/09/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sra7lUzbDpI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Yo41AGMKwJQ/s72-c/ramaaa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-1212065408330198910</id><published>2009-09-19T23:21:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T12:58:41.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There Are No Ordinary Moments.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Wake Up. It's happening, right here and right now. Right this very moment"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I can't stop hearing this little voice whispering me those words ever since I read that book. THE book...&lt;br /&gt;It's Saturday morning. I wake up to the screams of my mom calling my name from the kitchen. I feel dizzy and I have trouble seeing clearly because my eyes hurt. I make my way to the bathroom to take a good look at my reflection in the mirror. My left eye looks all reddish and the tears don't seem to stop so I decide to pour some water on my face. I start to feel better and sort of awake. I hear the high-pitched voice of my mother again so I go downstairs to see what all the fuss is about. Mystery solved, breakfast is ready. There's an unexpected visitor as well. I greet my aunt and proceed to the kitchen to get my plate. I put it in the microwave for 35 seconds in case it's cold. I open up the fridge to get some juice. I go take my seat at the table and start eating. I don't realize how hungry I am until I'm almost done with my breakfast. I finish up quickly to ease the hunger. Right after I'm done, I excuse myself from the table to go upstairs. I'm looking for the computer. I can't seem to find it. I start to think my sister must have hidden it somewhere. I start searching. It's nowhere to be found. I hear footsteps. I go to the stairs to see who it is. It's my sister taking two steps at a time to get to the top of the stairway faster. I block her path and ask her about the wherabouts of the computer. She starts provoking me and telling me it's hers and that she won't lend it to me. We continue with our little fight until I tell her something she wants to hear. She agrees to give it to me only because I'll be gone for the day and she will be able to use it during the rest of the day. I'm excited to read what my friends have been doing on Twitter. I sign in to messenger out of habit. I say hi to Eric and we start discussing about True Blood's latest episodes. My mom starts screaming again. She says that she's going to leave me if I'm not ready to go soon. I start freaking out because I really want to get my new glasses. I have waited like two weeks to get them and I don't want to wait any longer. I go take a really quick shower. I start getting ready to go. I get on the car and ask my mom to play my cd. She hesitates for a bit but she puts it on anyways. I take the pillow that's on the car and sleep all the way to the crossing point between Reynosa and Hidalgo. A lady takes my passport and let us continue our journey. I think about sleeping again but I just stay there awake listening to Friendly Fires. I really like their beats. Their music makes me happy. My mom starts saying stuff about which store should we visit first but then she mentions something about my glasses and I instantly tell her that we need to go there first because they may close early. We go there. I get out of the car and walk towards the store. I open the door and get inside. The lady behind the counter tells me she'll be with me in a second. After 3 minutes or so, she comes back and I give her the receipt. She looks at it and goes somewhere to get my glasses. She hands them to me and I put them on. Suddenly, everything's clear. I see perfectly. I start thinking of the times I had to use my scratched pair of glasses and promise myself I'll take good care of the new pair. We get in the car again and my mom tells her plan outloud. It had started raining but water never ruins someone's day so I didn't care. As we drove by Barnes &amp;amp; Noble I get a feeling. I ask my mom without hesitating if she would leave me there while she went out shopping with my aunt. She agrees and stops the car. I ask her for money to buy something from Starbucks while being there. She hands me some and I get out of the car and make my way to the store. As I enter the bookstore I realize that it had been a while since the last time I had been there. I start walking and seeing everything and everyone as I walk pass them. Some people are reading whereas others are talking about different school topics or just about anything. Ages vary a lot, there's a lot of elderly persons and a lot of little kids too. They'are all there for a reason, to read, buy or to have a good time with friends or in solitude. It was 2pm when I decided to buy myself a Caramel Frapuccino. They call my name when it's ready and I enjoy the feeling of drinking a delicious beverage. I keep seeing tons and tons of books but I don't know which one I'm going to read. As I walk pass the Teen Section I realize that I'm not into that sort of books now. I need something different. I start thinking about the movie my new friend Daniel told me to see. I try to remember the name of the book he's reading and go in search of a salesman so he could tell me where to find it. The book Daniel's reading isn't there but he takes me to the section of Dan Millman's books. I stare at them for some minutes. After reading all the titles I decide I should read the one that the movie's based on, 'Way of the Peaceful Warrior'. When I have the book in my hand I go in search of a spot where I could read. Starbucks' tables are nearly full but I find a tiny table on the corner and I start to read. People come and go but I stay there, reading. The book's dragging me into a different world. I think about buying something to eat but the feeling leaves my mind as I read more and more. I'm not aware of the hour but I don't care. After 5 hours of non-stop reading I finish it. Just about then my mom calls to ask me if it's okay to pick me up, I say yes. I'm still amazed about what I had just read. I suddenly realize that I need to use the restroom. I leave the book on the table and go to the restroom. When I get back the table's empty. The book's not there. I start thinking that probably, some salesman took it to where it belonged. I go to the section again but the book isn't there. I spend the last minutes looking for it, or at least another copy. I can't find it. My mom calls me again and it's time to leave. I give up my search but realize that it had to be that way so that I could appreciate the value of every moment. &lt;em&gt;This moment..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383608528984905570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SrZrbvvol2I/AAAAAAAAAHc/WJbjSQ6Tx1w/s400/reading.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-1212065408330198910?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/1212065408330198910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-are-no-ordinary-moments.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1212065408330198910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1212065408330198910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-are-no-ordinary-moments.html' title='There Are No Ordinary Moments.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SrZrbvvol2I/AAAAAAAAAHc/WJbjSQ6Tx1w/s72-c/reading.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-2603570319592044599</id><published>2009-08-24T00:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T01:21:28.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eighteen.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SpOBBcn6qbI/AAAAAAAAAHM/34eDdNlMYoE/s1600-h/FromTheBack.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373780642246601138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SpOBBcn6qbI/AAAAAAAAAHM/34eDdNlMYoE/s320/FromTheBack.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, today’s my birthday. And it doesn’t feel like it. I used to get all excited about my birthday but it is different now for some reason. I guess it’s ‘cause I don’t have something planned out to celebrate or the fact that the majority of my real friends are far away, or maybe’s just the fact that I wanted to be seventeen forever. I liked that number and it was one of the greatest years so far. I did so many things during that last year. I can say that it was the year I learned more about the value of life, friendship and family.&lt;br /&gt;Naming and recalling every event that marked my life during last year would mean having to do an entry of each and every one of them. As we get older, we forget more and more about our childhood and we only stay with our recent past. I don’t want to forget but I know I will eventually... When are we going to create that super hard disk to store all our memories? Like that pensive Dumbledore used. I wish I had one of those. I sometimes wish I could remember every little detail of my life. What I did the day I was six and a half, the name of all my teachers or the complete dialogues to the cartoons I used to watch every now and then. Our lives are filled up with so many things, experiences, happy moments, bad memories, people, thoughts and every thing that you could possibly imagine. Those things exist to make us who we are right this moment. I think that in the end, we just stay with the memories that&lt;strong&gt; truly&lt;/strong&gt; make an impact in our lives and with the people who leave their personal mark in our hearts. Those we’ll remember for the rest of our lives, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;Throughout my whole life I have done an enormous amount of things. They are irrelevant to the history of our world but they have made me who I am to this day. Eighteen’s a big number. It’s also a long time. But I’m glad I’ve made it this far and I’m happy of being able to say ‘I’m legal now’, even though it comes along with a bigger responsibility. I have to think twice every thing I do during the rest of my life, because the consequences are bigger this time. But I'll keep living for the moment and trying to make every moment count...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-2603570319592044599?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/2603570319592044599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/08/eighteen.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2603570319592044599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2603570319592044599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/08/eighteen.html' title='Eighteen.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SpOBBcn6qbI/AAAAAAAAAHM/34eDdNlMYoE/s72-c/FromTheBack.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-2669194307262499919</id><published>2009-08-06T17:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T01:17:42.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Numb Is The New Deep.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SnvD1AP-CnI/AAAAAAAAAG8/whzGc9lsdoE/s1600-h/GreenWater.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367098696309541490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SnvD1AP-CnI/AAAAAAAAAG8/whzGc9lsdoE/s320/GreenWater.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There's so many things I'd like to do, so many places I'd like to go, so many dreams I want to accomplish. But, the thing is, sometimes I find myself thinking that I'm running out of time, and because of that I tend to rush into things. &lt;em&gt;A lot.&lt;/em&gt; I want to do everything at the same time. I want to be here, there and every little place I could possibly be. I want to run, scream, jump and swim without wanting to stop. I'm so &lt;strong&gt;desperate&lt;/strong&gt; to do the things I really want to do that I say things or do things without thinking before I speak. But also, I sometimes over-analyze things too much with the people I care about because I fear that if I don't, I won't be able to transmit them the things I truly feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Over-analyzing things isn't always the best thing to do. Believe me. At first you usually come up with the idea that's closest to the meaning. But when you start going deeper, everything's starts to get confusing and in the end, you don't even know what's the truth anymore. You create an idea that may be just the total opposite. Sometimes, people say or do things that don't need to be analyzed, they are so clear and direct that we feel the need to over think it too much 'cause certain clarity may scare us when we are not expecting it at all . When we try so hard to figure something or someone out, we may get dissapointed because not everything's going to be just the way we want to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've realized that sometimes &lt;em&gt;living is easier with eyes closed &lt;/em&gt;because that way, we get through life just by living for the moment and not caring about things that make everything way too complicated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-2669194307262499919?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/2669194307262499919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/08/numb-is-new-deep.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2669194307262499919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2669194307262499919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/08/numb-is-new-deep.html' title='Numb Is The New Deep.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SnvD1AP-CnI/AAAAAAAAAG8/whzGc9lsdoE/s72-c/GreenWater.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-5944838309603151236</id><published>2009-07-29T23:34:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T00:19:11.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SndTyfWanAI/AAAAAAAAAG0/h2TL2SjT-3w/s1600-h/seasonchange.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365849607909317634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SndTyfWanAI/AAAAAAAAAG0/h2TL2SjT-3w/s320/seasonchange.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Starting over isn't always the easiest thing. I have to admit that moving to a new place or another house is always scary. Moving away from our 'safe-zone' that is. I used to think that if I stayed in the same surrounding I was at the time, I would be happy for having the people I love by my side all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During my childhood we used to move a lot because of my dad's work. He always traveled and we barely saw him. I remember that we changed houses like 7 times during the first 6 years of my life, probably more. Everytime my mom said 'pack up your stuff, we're moving out' I used to cry my little heart out or try to come up with the best excuse to stay. It never worked though. The thing is, I &lt;strong&gt;hated&lt;/strong&gt; having to move to a different place because just when I started having friends around my neighborhood, it was time to leave. My parents finally got it when I was about to turn 7, my dad was moved to Reynosa and this time, he decided to take us along. We found a big house in a little town called Diaz Ordaz. At that time I didn't care too much that there wasn't that much to do because I used to play with everything I found on the way. I guess that when you're young there are no worries in your little perfect life. Well, at least that was my case. As time passed by, I started to think that maybe, we were going to stay in that house forever. It didn't turn out that way and we also moved a lot while being there. So eventually, I gave up on trying to stay put in a place and tried to see things from a different perspective. After two years of living there, we moved to Reynosa. We changed houses like three times more until we finally bought a house that my mom liked. I finally got to paint my room and decorate it just the way I wanted. But, as you may already know, my time there didn't last that long. I moved to Mexico City while I was in highschool. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Throughout my life there have been tons and tons of changes. I am now facing a new one. I have moved to Linares, Nuevo Leon. The minute we got here, I tried to stay as close to my parents and sister as I could because I knew that soon, I was going to be truly on my own. When we said goodbye, I was crying (even though I saw them during the weekend after my arrival) because I knew that everything was going to be different now. And it &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; different, but I do not regret coming to live here at all. Changes come along with the great opportunity to learn new things or to remember some parts of ourselves that we had forgotten. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm glad I took this risk 'cause &lt;strong&gt;it's too risky not to take a risk&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-5944838309603151236?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/5944838309603151236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/changes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/5944838309603151236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/5944838309603151236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/changes.html' title='Changes.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SndTyfWanAI/AAAAAAAAAG0/h2TL2SjT-3w/s72-c/seasonchange.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-5033377170066751422</id><published>2009-07-18T18:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T23:48:16.607-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Smu_wbAL19I/AAAAAAAAAGs/hD7CrZ0mk1s/s1600-h/yellowhat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362590619917866962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Smu_wbAL19I/AAAAAAAAAGs/hD7CrZ0mk1s/s400/yellowhat.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I feel how the hot weather invades my space and the sun rays penetrate my body as I walk down the sidewalk on a sunny day at 3pm. It's a feeling I can't explain. I really don't know if I like it or not. I think I don't. You can barely walk because after 5 mins your body is begging you for some kind of shadow. The bad thing about hot weather is that you may be completely naked and you're still on fire. You can't rip your skin off. You can't make the sun's rays be less strong due to the fact that we've messed up our ozone layer. The only sane thing we can due is enter the building in front of us in hope of air conditioner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The same thing happens when you're in an extremely cold place and you're not wearing the proper protection. You're freezing and the only thing you want to do is to be near a fireplace or in a hot place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is it with us that we sometimes want the opposite of what we DO have? &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/3151529061317308431-5033377170066751422?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/5033377170066751422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/hot-hot-hot-hot.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/5033377170066751422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/5033377170066751422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/hot-hot-hot-hot.html' title='Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Smu_wbAL19I/AAAAAAAAAGs/hD7CrZ0mk1s/s72-c/yellowhat.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-7297682088670439712</id><published>2009-07-15T14:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T14:31:21.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Upside Down.</title><content type='html'>Have you ever felt as if you were living in an upside down world? I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358767535152811906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sl4qrmatz4I/AAAAAAAAAGU/EjyQyiVZHmg/s400/upside+down.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Some days ago, I was taking a walk with my dog, when I saw this new monkey bar they had in the park near my house, I felt a special rush so I ran towards it and I hanged myself upside down. I stayed that way for like almost 10 minutes. While hanging there, I realized how fun would it be if we were to walk on the sky and just live like that, upside down. Sometimes life is like that, a messed up world that shifts its shape every now and then. But what should we do when our life takes an unexpected turn? I've learned that the best thing we can do is just go with the flow. I like to think that &lt;em&gt;everything's alright at the end; if it's not, then it's not the end.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sl4rBMtu3OI/AAAAAAAAAGc/-Cy6K_nwhJc/s1600-h/monkeybars.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358767906210372834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sl4rBMtu3OI/AAAAAAAAAGc/-Cy6K_nwhJc/s320/monkeybars.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've to admit that the last week I haven't been in my best. I was sad actually. I felt as if my world was just falling down and everything that I've known was slowly vanishing. After a tearful night where I took out everything I had inside for a while, I understood that when you are facing a &lt;strong&gt;change&lt;/strong&gt; you have to face some obstacles as well. Sometimes they are easy things that don't matter that much, but sometimes they are big things that may seem so huge that we can't cope with them. But that's not true at all. WE CAN. If we try just a little bit harder and smile even though we don't feel like it, we'll eventually feel like smiling and we'll do it without worrying about our troubles. We have problems, we all do. But what's important is HOW we face them, if we're willing to do something to fix them. A monkey bar is kinda the same, we have to climb the first steps and when we get to the top we start our journey towards the other end. We may fall down in the process but it's okay because we have the opportunity to try again and again. We are the ones who have the final word and the ones who decide what's best for us, to give up or keep trying. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life may surprise us when we least expect it, so let's take a risk and embrace what life has to offer us. Live for the moment and be thankful that today you are alive and have the chance to make some positive changes in your life.&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/3151529061317308431-7297682088670439712?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/7297682088670439712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/upside-down.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/7297682088670439712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/7297682088670439712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/upside-down.html' title='Upside Down.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sl4qrmatz4I/AAAAAAAAAGU/EjyQyiVZHmg/s72-c/upside+down.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-9114521402498352541</id><published>2009-07-10T18:26:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T19:00:36.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time DOESN'T stand still.</title><content type='html'>July. Now the months have really gone fast, time actually. 4 years ago I was overwhelmed with joy by what happened. I still remember everything perfectly as if it was yesterday. I'm not gonna talk about it really, but I just had the urge to mention it somehow..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decisions. decisions. decisions. decisions. Every little thing in life is a &lt;strong&gt;decision&lt;/strong&gt;. What should I eat? Which school should I attend? What career? What am I gonna wear tonight? Should I be his girlfriend? Should I call him? And this could go on forever..&lt;br /&gt;At this point of my life I'm facing important decisions that are the key to my future. I really don't know what to do but I guess time and faith will guide me somehow..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-9114521402498352541?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/9114521402498352541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/time-doesnt-stand-still.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/9114521402498352541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/9114521402498352541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/07/time-doesnt-stand-still.html' title='Time DOESN&apos;T stand still.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-4215559860495863998</id><published>2009-06-29T21:57:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T00:35:30.917-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hometown Glory.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've been walking in the same way as I did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Missing out the cracks in the pavement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And tutting my heel and strutting my feet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Is there anything I can do for you dear? Is there anyone I can call?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"No and thank you, please Madam. I ain't lost, just wandering"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Round my hometown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Memories are fresh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Round my hometown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ooh the people I've met&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of my world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of my world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of this world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of my world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I like it in the city when the air is so thick and opaque&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love to see everybody in short skirts, shorts and shades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I like it in the city when two worlds collide&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You get the people and the government&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Everybody taking different sides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Shows that we ain't gonna stand shit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Shows that we are united&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Shows that we ain't gonna take it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Shows that we ain't gonna stand shit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Shows that we are united&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Round my hometown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Memories are fresh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Round my hometown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ooh the people I've met&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of my world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of my world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of this world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Are the wonders of my world&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SkmdU6jnliI/AAAAAAAAAF8/11Ru1AuzQv4/s1600-h/AngelIndependencia.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352982614748141090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 326px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SkmdU6jnliI/AAAAAAAAAF8/11Ru1AuzQv4/s320/AngelIndependencia.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This song truly describes how I feel at the moment. Now it's hit me. One more week and I'll have to leave this place. &amp;amp; not at my will at all. Three years go by SO fast that I didn't even noticed when it happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today, I realized as I was walking towards this house, that every place I've been truly means something. It's amazing how a place can become so important to you. This city is really special to me. There's an infinity of things to do that saying &lt;em&gt;there's nothing to do&lt;/em&gt; could be considered a sin. The best thing about living in one of the biggest cities in the world is that there's always something new to discover, a new building, a museum, a new house, a new friend. As the song says, memories around here are fresh. So fresh that walking in that certain sidewalk still brings a smile to my face. So fresh that going to school (even though it's over) still makes me want to be in that free period with my friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The people I've met are the wonders of my world,&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;I think you know who you are. I'll be forever grateful with you because you've made this city my new hometown in some way. Memories, memories and memories. They'll be in my heart forever. I'm taking everything with me. Even the bad ones because they've made me who I am today. I'm sad and happy at the same time. I'm sad because I'll not see you in a while but I'm so happy I had the opportunity to meet such great persons that have helped me grow and made me a better person. How can I repay you everything you've done for me? I can't find the right words to express everything I'm feeling and thinking right now. I want you to know that you've really made a difference in my life. Just by meeting you I'm luckier than the rest. Having you as a friend is truly a blessing. You have a place in my heart that no one else could fill in except you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I want you to remember that even though distance may keep us apart, you can always count on me. I'll try to do my best to be with you through the hard times and through the good ones as well. Each of us will now go on to different paths, but I'm sure that we'll succeed in whatever we choose. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I love you, and I always will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-4215559860495863998?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/4215559860495863998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/hometown-glory.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4215559860495863998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4215559860495863998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/hometown-glory.html' title='Hometown Glory.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SkmdU6jnliI/AAAAAAAAAF8/11Ru1AuzQv4/s72-c/AngelIndependencia.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6299062209578703574</id><published>2009-06-22T01:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T13:43:22.117-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Know I'm Good For Something, I Just Haven't Found It Yet..</title><content type='html'>Last week I went to a little town way up North to take an admission exam. 320 students took it and only 150 will be accepted. Will I be one of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Career: Geophysics.&lt;br /&gt;University: Universidad Autonoma de Nuevo Leon, Facultad Ciencias de la Tierra.&lt;br /&gt;Place: Linares, N.L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sj_O2Ys1HtI/AAAAAAAAAF0/SQnp4mpJhc4/s1600-h/disoriented.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350222316078178002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sj_O2Ys1HtI/AAAAAAAAAF0/SQnp4mpJhc4/s320/disoriented.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know it may seem that I really &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; what to do with my life and how I should be doing it , but the problem here, is that I don't really &lt;strong&gt;don't know &lt;/strong&gt;what to do. Linares is such a small town that the minute I got there I started complaining about it. They don't even have a movie theatre or a mall. What the hell is wrong with that town? I know that Monterrey isn't so far away but why can't they built their own entertainment places? I think the fact that I instantly saw that town as a ghost town is because I've lived in the biggest city in the world (Mexico City) for the past three years. Maybe that's no excuse, but I also disliked the fact that the university doesn't have any sports or activities that you could do while not being at school. Who am I kidding? Truth be told, that is not the problem at all. The main thing is that I'm not sure of what to do with my life. I sometimes feel that I'm just following my dad's steps but at the same time I really want to know if it's something that I like doing. I guess the only way to know is trying it out. I'll probably give the university a chance 'cause if I don't I'd never know how it could have turned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to take the right decisions. But how to know what is right and what's not? I'm afraid of failing. I really am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6299062209578703574?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6299062209578703574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-know-im-good-for-something-i-just.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6299062209578703574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6299062209578703574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-know-im-good-for-something-i-just.html' title='I Know I&apos;m Good For Something, I Just Haven&apos;t Found It Yet..'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sj_O2Ys1HtI/AAAAAAAAAF0/SQnp4mpJhc4/s72-c/disoriented.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6454349243758325966</id><published>2009-06-16T04:41:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T13:40:39.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Words</title><content type='html'>To describe what I'm feeling. It's 4:42 am and I'm literaly pouring my little heart out...I just had the most realistic dream ever and I decided I wanted to keep it with the most amount of details I could possibly remember. I tend to forget my dreams...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347870189102543490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sjdzmk5bsoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/wfim403HpVg/s320/echoes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Setting:&lt;br /&gt;Middle School Classroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main Characters: Basically all of my closests friends and some middle school friends I haven't seen in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plot:&lt;br /&gt;We were in class. The last class of the year. The classroom was made so like 45 persons could fit in all aligned in lines. I was in the second row facing the teacher's desk somewhere in the middle. Eric was behind me. Some time after the class Eric and I just started making fun of a friend on the first row. Laughter was uncontrollable. We stopped doing that and seconds later we just started laughing without reason. We joked about everything and laughed as hard as we could. We kept ignoring the warnings the teacher gave us and the bad looks from our classmates. This continued for 15 min? Maybe more. Then, all of a sudden, the teacher starts telling me to behave and to stop that shit. Eric just gets a warning due to the fact that he is very serious and he's rarely seen in that behaviour. Then, every person that I know and that has and is special to me, starts telling me all of my defects and every thing they dislike about me. I just sit there staring at disbelief because sitting near me are my closests friends and they start telling me horrible stuff too. Well, not horrible, I guess it's the truth at some point. Some of the things they told me is that I just don't know how to control myself and that I say random things out of the blue that are not even funny. That I'm not that pretty. That I tend to hurt them without wanting to and things like that. (I don't want to write them all because what's next is more important). The thing is that after 20 min of that situation, in which almost every person in the classroom told me their views, I couldn't stand it anymore. I left the room. It was also break time. I ran to hide beneath the shadow of a big old oak tree. Some friends came over to try to fix it but they couldn't. What worried me the most was the fact that I couldn't do anything to fix my behaviour with them because it was the last time that I was going to see some of them. I was to mad with myself. I cried a lot and thought about not going back to the classroom and just leaving for the sake of it. I didn't want to cause any more trouble. Friends told me that other friends were really mad at me for ruining their last day at school and that I should find something better to do with my life. You know, the usual gossip. I just didn't know what to think at that point, but in the end, I walked in and moved towards my place. When I was standing next to it I almost backed down. I was about to leave the room running when I see a big poster/cartulina/affiche in my place. I stare at it at disbelief because I really thought it was a hate letter from all of my friends. I was wrong. It was a beautiful poster. It had written in it things like: 'keep on going', 'hold on', 'we love you no matter what', and every encouragement phrase you can imagine. All of a sudden I started to cry again but not in a sad way. It was a happy cry. My heart felt as if it had been broken and fixed at exactly the same time. The teacher, well I really think he was more of an angel than a teacher, told me that even though we go through hard times, we should &lt;strong&gt;never&lt;/strong&gt; keep trying and being who we are, that our friends will be there at the end of the road even though we feel as if they somehow have betrayed us on the way. My friends started telling me that they could never write me a hate letter because they knew what I needed the most at that time. The thing that really got me was the fact that the boy whom Eric and I laughed about earlier, was standing next to me with his arms open and with a wide big smile on his face. I hugged him and told him I was truly sorry for making fun of him like that. He told me that it was okay. That everything would turn out okay at the end. It was then when I realized that I should change some of the aspects that my friends told me at the beginning but that I had to accept that this is who I am and that I can't change completely out of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6454349243758325966?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6454349243758325966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-words.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6454349243758325966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6454349243758325966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-words.html' title='No Words'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sjdzmk5bsoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/wfim403HpVg/s72-c/echoes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6376362169420543015</id><published>2009-06-08T13:47:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T14:49:18.532-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Until The End..</title><content type='html'>Yes. I know it's been a while since my last post but I had a very busy weekend. Nice and great, but a busy one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Si1pTTkOM-I/AAAAAAAAAFc/OfZdYvcK5DI/s1600-h/umbrellaa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345044113149277154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 310px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Si1pTTkOM-I/AAAAAAAAAFc/OfZdYvcK5DI/s320/umbrellaa.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There's a lot of things I'd like to talk about but I can't seem to make up my mind so I guess I'll just write whatever comes to my mind first.&lt;br /&gt;Last night I saw a movie that really left me thinking, 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas'. This movie is about the childhood and friendship of two boys during the times of Adolf Hitler and the genocide. I'm not going to tell you everything about it in case you haven't seen it. But you should if you haven't. When it comes to friendship it doesn't matter if you're rich/ poor/ ugly/ beautiful/ popular/ white/ black/ skinny/ or whatever. The only thing that matters is the bond you make with that other person. Friends are not the same but they share a lot of things that tend to bring them closer. They can also be so&lt;strong&gt; different&lt;/strong&gt; that they get along well because of their differences. Diversity is always present and it really is something special and wonderful because you can always find a part of yourself in someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point of my life I can really say that I've made some really &lt;em&gt;good friends&lt;/em&gt;. The ones that are there for you whenever you need the most and when you just want to hang out or do crazy things. They support you and give you a reason to go on. I'll be forever grateful with them because of what I've learned and enjoyed throughout my whole life. Truth be told, I'm scared. I know we are now entering the part of the goodbyes where each one of us will take a different path.. but I'll do my best to keep in touch and continue keeping alive these friendships that have become so important to me. I think I'll stop here because I hate farewells and it's starting to sound like one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6376362169420543015?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6376362169420543015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/until-end.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6376362169420543015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6376362169420543015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/06/until-end.html' title='Until The End..'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Si1pTTkOM-I/AAAAAAAAAFc/OfZdYvcK5DI/s72-c/umbrellaa.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-3417290376085622223</id><published>2009-05-29T10:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T22:53:34.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Imperfections.</title><content type='html'>Watch this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Nw0s4C0g5SM&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Nw0s4C0g5SM&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After seeing this I realized that it is completely true. The little imperfections someone else has and that you cherish are the little things that remind you how important is that person for you, how you couldn't go on without having them in your life. I guess that's the importance of them.. you will never find that PERFECT person for you, because there isn't one and no one's perfect. But what you can find is that special someone who's imperfections you have learned to love and admire and therefore, that person becomes perfectly imperfect for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's little imperfections are what we should take into account as well.. I guess, we all have felt at some point of our lifes, a great variation of emotions that have made us who we are now. Those ups and downs, those happy and bad memories, those failures and victories, are there to remind us that without one part of those bad things there wouldn't be the good part. For every opposite/bad thing there's always the nice part. So let's not be afraid of making mistakes, or of having a bit of pain in our lifes... because only that way we may appreciate and cherish the good parts in a bigger scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"In the end, it's these small things that you remember, the little imperfections that make them perfect..for you."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wolafen.wordpress.com/2009/04/11/wishful-vision/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-3417290376085622223?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/3417290376085622223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-imperfections_29.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/3417290376085622223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/3417290376085622223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-imperfections_29.html' title='The Little Imperfections.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-1915898356687769385</id><published>2009-05-27T00:52:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T18:43:59.618-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Only True Gift Is a Portion of Yourself.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShzVVdAcWJI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tRWFByjjhqM/s1600-h/YouBeTheAnchor...jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340377822695020690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 331px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShzVVdAcWJI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tRWFByjjhqM/s400/YouBeTheAnchor...jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's truly amazing how someone can become SO &lt;strong&gt;special &lt;/strong&gt;to you in a matter of seconds, minutes or days. Love is something that has to be constructed day by day. You can't just say you love someone and don't even show them you do. It doesn't work that way. There are some persons, like me, that like to be reminded that they are loved and that they are special for someone. I don't know if that's right or not. I just feel that way most of the time..&lt;br /&gt;I really believe that when you love someone you are giving that person a big part of you, somehow you open yourself to him/her without thinking about what will happen next.. You might get hurt in the process, but it's really worth the try if being with him makes you happy. Love also involves having to make sacrifices for that person.. but when you make them you don't even notice because you're only worrying about your significant other's happiness.&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of definitions of love and I still haven't found one that truly gets to the point.. I guess I'll find my own definition later on.. but for now I'd like to share a quote I read somewhere that really left me thinking about love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like and earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness. It is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just "being in love" which any of us can conceive ourselves we are.&lt;br /&gt;Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. We had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches, we found that we were one tree and not two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-1915898356687769385?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/1915898356687769385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/only-true-gift-is-portion-of-yourself.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1915898356687769385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1915898356687769385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/only-true-gift-is-portion-of-yourself.html' title='The Only True Gift Is a Portion of Yourself.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShzVVdAcWJI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tRWFByjjhqM/s72-c/YouBeTheAnchor...jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-4862390819706332030</id><published>2009-05-26T14:05:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T14:34:08.069-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectations.</title><content type='html'>Most of the people have expectations. They could mean the world to some but nothing to others. In my case, I just try not to expect anything from the people that surround me because by doing that, everything they do may just surprise me and make me happy all of a sudden. But if you expect someone to be who you want to or to do something for you, they may just let you down without them meaning to do that. I really believe that we have to have expectations but only when it comes to ourselves. That way we'd be reaching out for more because we have that thrist inside us to be better if we really want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An expectation, according to the princeton dictionary, is a belief about (or mental picture of) the future. If we have expectations, as I said, they should be with things that concern only ourselves. If we expect our life to be better and if we truly believe it and fight for that, we may reach it. We have the power to aim our lives to what we &lt;strong&gt;want.&lt;/strong&gt; It's really not that hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340217334540178530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShxDX0CmlGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Bfc-UKbfRwE/s400/sunset.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I have to say that I'm truly scared of what's going to happen next in my life.. But I have hope that in the next few months I'll somehow figure it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-4862390819706332030?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/4862390819706332030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/expectations.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4862390819706332030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4862390819706332030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/expectations.html' title='Expectations.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShxDX0CmlGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Bfc-UKbfRwE/s72-c/sunset.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-1926454925685536337</id><published>2009-05-23T22:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T23:35:26.181-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Be There When Your Heart Stops Beating.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShjOYZA4KJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/E0Gfj5sp_94/s1600-h/paperships.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339244276674472082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShjOYZA4KJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/E0Gfj5sp_94/s320/paperships.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A little more and I'll fall off the planet, entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how the power of your decisions can change your life in a matter of seconds. Now I know that I've made the right choice and I don't regret it at all. I have found myself thinking of what would have happened if I hadn't gone that day. Everything would have turned out very DIFFERENTLY. But I took a chance, I decided to take that risk and I'm so happy for that. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I was afraid of getting hurt..but I'm not afraid anymore. I guess it all depends on the person and how that person makes you feel. It was so EASY to say yes. I didn't even bother to think about the future..&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's what really matters. You have to be completely sure about something otherwise you won't enjoy it the same way and you'll probably find yourself wishing you where somewhere else. I have a lot to say about all of this but I can't seem to find the words to express everything I'm feeling and at the same time I don't want to. I want to keep these feelings inside me to fill me up with joy. I want to make this moment truly MINE. &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I can say is that I've been proven wrong. I used to think that you had to look and expect amazing things in order for them to come true and I kept looking and yearning for them at all times. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now I know that great things DO happen when you least expect them, when you are not looking for them, and that's the beauty of it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-1926454925685536337?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/1926454925685536337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ill-be-there-when-your-heart-stops.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1926454925685536337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1926454925685536337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ill-be-there-when-your-heart-stops.html' title='I&apos;ll Be There When Your Heart Stops Beating.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ShjOYZA4KJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/E0Gfj5sp_94/s72-c/paperships.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6354719521354797005</id><published>2009-05-12T00:09:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T00:37:38.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When Silence Means Everything..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SgkLCFq6yiI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DUJAaGxHexQ/s1600-h/EndlessRoad.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334807364106897954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SgkLCFq6yiI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DUJAaGxHexQ/s200/EndlessRoad.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's 12:16 am and I can't sleep. Thoughts keep circling my mind and they don't want to leave. Do I want them to? Can I stop them? I guess the answer's easy, I can't and I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times in life when you can't control what you're thinking, thoughts are just there, unwilling to go, wishing to build their home in your mind. They will if you let them. But the question here is, will you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you let them stay forever and probably haunt you down? Will you give them the opportunity to follow you throughout your life? Are they really worth your time?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6354719521354797005?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6354719521354797005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-silence-means-everything.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6354719521354797005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6354719521354797005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-silence-means-everything.html' title='When Silence Means Everything..'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SgkLCFq6yiI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DUJAaGxHexQ/s72-c/EndlessRoad.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-4775141245841518440</id><published>2009-05-07T13:07:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T19:08:15.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life / Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SgMuMJ9tW-I/AAAAAAAAAEU/NJxa4QlJbAc/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333157170104851426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SgMuMJ9tW-I/AAAAAAAAAEU/NJxa4QlJbAc/s200/untitled.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sometimes I find myself wondering why bad things happen. There are a lot of situations that may be out of our control. For example, we will not have a graduation ceremony or the goodbye day; everything 'cause of the swine flu. It isn't as if the school wanted it to happen or the government. It's just something out of our control and we just have to stick to the program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have learned that bad things happen when we least expect it, nothing is secured and not a day in our lifes is guaranteed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We really don’t know if we are going to live 20, 40 or even a hundred years. About two weeks ago, my cousin’s husband passed away. He was only 33 years old. Some time after that, I was at my uncle's place and, as I went to the store with another cousin, a woman approached her and asked her if she knew a girl, my cousin answered an immediate “yes”. The woman told us that the girl had passed away. The news was shocking because my cousin had seen her not too long ago and she seemed fine. Rachel’s friend was very young and a single mother too. These events made me realize that death can come when we least expect it. By saying this I’m not trying to make you paranoid or something like that, on the contrary, I want to share what I’ve learned by it. We shouldn't worry too much about what's gonna happen next. &amp;amp; we shouldn't get mad by insignificant things. Let's embrace what we have and appreciate every single moment of our lives, even if they are not that good cause we are humans and we learn by experience. I believe that everything happens for a reason and in the future those bad experiences will lead us to something truly great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-4775141245841518440?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/4775141245841518440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-death.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4775141245841518440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4775141245841518440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-death.html' title='Life / Death'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SgMuMJ9tW-I/AAAAAAAAAEU/NJxa4QlJbAc/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-2169250956182907467</id><published>2009-04-24T00:20:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T23:06:54.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Always There.</title><content type='html'>There's always a point in your life where you realize who your real friends are. I'm really grateful for the friends I have and that have been with me through ups and downs. People say that your real friends can be counted with the number of fingers on your hands and when you're done you may still have fingers left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SfZ_89L59NI/AAAAAAAAAEM/gmbKRtD5zF8/s1600-h/gerardo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329587894232937682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SfZ_89L59NI/AAAAAAAAAEM/gmbKRtD5zF8/s200/gerardo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I want to dedicate this entry to my friend Gerardo who has proven to be one of the greatest friends in the history of friends. I know this because he is one of the persons that you can count on with almost &lt;strong&gt;EVERYTHING&lt;/strong&gt;. He'll be there for you when you need him the most and when you don't he'll be there as well. For instance, he made me the favor of waiting in line since 1pm (the concert was at 8) to see Bloc Party and he didn't even know their music. For me, that was one of the greatest things ever. I really appreciate his friendship and I hope that we can be friends forever and ever. :) Thanks for everything and please remember that I'll be there, just ask and you'll receive. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, this was supposed to be written a while ago but for some reason I couldn't post it. Today I found out why.. he helped me out some more today and I HAD to post this noww! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. he is crazy as hell and a little alcoholic so don't judge him just by looking at the picture. hahah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-2169250956182907467?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/2169250956182907467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/always-there.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2169250956182907467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2169250956182907467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/always-there.html' title='Always There.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SfZ_89L59NI/AAAAAAAAAEM/gmbKRtD5zF8/s72-c/gerardo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-1908250054168017382</id><published>2009-04-14T20:04:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T12:40:59.178-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We're Young.</title><content type='html'>"We're young, we don't need a boy to love, hold and kiss. We won't always be able to relax and be kids, but we'll always be able to love, so I'm gonna get out there and live up this world, leave my mark, make a difference because in 5 years we'll want to rewind but we can't. So stop worrying about that boy, now is the time of our lives, lets make mistakes and not care, memories will never fade. Live it up and live it crazy. We are only young once, lets screw this up right: drop the drama, screw the calories and never question your actions. We have history to make."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;- Quote written by someone I don't know, but someone had the great idea to let me know it existed :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325106551271549010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SeaUMdulaFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oI76wWFcIP4/s400/jump.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This is SO &lt;strong&gt;true&lt;/strong&gt;. We have to live our lives and stop worrying too much about the future. I wasn't sure if it would be proper to post this but when I read the previous quote it really hit me and I wanted to share it with you. I realized that there are many persons in this world that may feel sad or lonely... but hey! lets focus our energy on something else and it will slowly come to us. One way or another, we'll reach the happiness we deserve. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Today, I read something that got stuck on my mind as well: &lt;em&gt;Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.&lt;/em&gt; We have the choice to be sad, to be happy, to suffer, to feel whatever we want, we have the capacity of doing so and we should. If we, by any means, are feeling depressed or sad, we should remember that we are in that estate because we chose to be in it. We &lt;strong&gt;can&lt;/strong&gt; do something about it, it's in our nature.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So..Don't be afraid to live! And enjoy every minute of your life because you may never know when the end will come..&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/3151529061317308431-1908250054168017382?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/1908250054168017382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/were-young.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1908250054168017382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1908250054168017382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/were-young.html' title='We&apos;re Young.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SeaUMdulaFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oI76wWFcIP4/s72-c/jump.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-4493463927062266218</id><published>2009-04-09T15:47:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T16:14:22.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sd5jl_h29bI/AAAAAAAAADs/DIoxlPL37RQ/s1600-h/Waiting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322801313958262194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sd5jl_h29bI/AAAAAAAAADs/DIoxlPL37RQ/s320/Waiting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I will not look for you, 'cause everytime I do it seems that I always end up looking in the wrong places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not try to make you appear in the face of someone new.&lt;br /&gt;I will not force you to be in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'll do is wait.&lt;br /&gt;I'll patiently wait for you, 'cause I know that you'll come when I need you the most.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-4493463927062266218?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/4493463927062266218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/to-love.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4493463927062266218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4493463927062266218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/to-love.html' title='To Love.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/Sd5jl_h29bI/AAAAAAAAADs/DIoxlPL37RQ/s72-c/Waiting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-8511709464610936333</id><published>2009-04-06T13:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T13:34:14.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It feels good.</title><content type='html'>To be home again. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321647198103433426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SdpJ7m7ocNI/AAAAAAAAADk/CXLfdnl3ENA/s320/WallPaper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long time of no writing, I'm back at it. I have so many things I want to write about I can't even decide. Last week was stressing. I had so many things to do that I kind of collapsed at the end, but I survived. Even though I had a lot of stuff to do, I found time to spend with my friends and I had some of the most amazing days with them. Also, I had a football match. We won but I didn't play as I hoped I would but well, there are times in life when things don't go the way you planned and Friday was one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning from your mistakes is one thing that you should always keep in mind. It doesn't matter how many times you fall down, what matters is how fast you are willing to stand up and start all over again. When you want something badly you have to keep fighting for it and do what you can to obtain it. There will be obstacles on your way, I assure you that, but you have to try to find the way to get through them. Idealizing your objective may be a good option to keep on trying without wanting to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, this week will be full of good memories and good times. Last night I slept on my own bed after 3 months of not doing so. It felt &lt;em&gt;SO&lt;/em&gt; good that I overslept :( The only thing I don't like when I'm home is that my mom has this weird policy in which she programs the router to block my laptop and my iPod's internet connection when it's getting "late". It sucks but I guess she has her reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many people I'd love to see but so little time. Why can't they give us the normal two-week vacaction instead of only one? I sometimes think that I made the wrong choice in moving to a school so far away from home but when I think it over I realize that I wasn't a bad choice after all because I had the opportunity to meet persons that have made a real impact to my life in a positive way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life is made out of choices and we have to figure out which ones will lead us to our own happiness.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-8511709464610936333?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/8511709464610936333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-feels-good.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/8511709464610936333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/8511709464610936333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-feels-good.html' title='It feels good.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SdpJ7m7ocNI/AAAAAAAAADk/CXLfdnl3ENA/s72-c/WallPaper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-7367588505919356841</id><published>2009-03-24T12:51:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T20:39:35.169-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seventeen Forever.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I don't want to grow up. I'm not ready yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;5 months till my birthday. Oficially. I really &lt;strong&gt;don't &lt;/strong&gt;want to be 18. It scares me as hell. Seventeen is a great age, really. When you're seventeen you're still young enough to do crazy stuff without having any trouble with the authorities (I don't really do that but anyway), you have the chance to get mad and do scenes without any worries about the consequences. Just like Metro Station's song says "But let's not ask why it's not right.. you won't be seventeen forever. &lt;em&gt;And we can get away with this tonight&lt;/em&gt;". I guess I'll have to catch up on some of the wild stuff I haven't done yet. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flies by &lt;em&gt;SO&lt;/em&gt; fast. :(&lt;br /&gt;I know I repeat this a lot but I really feel that and it never leaves my mind. High school is almost over and that means that I'll be moving again. Is this the right thing to do? Sometimes I think that moving a lot is not so good. When I was little, I remember that we changed of house like 8 times and I hated it because just when I started to make friends with my neighbors we moved away. -_- Right now is kind of the same because I fly back and forth a lot and I do not stay in a place for more than 5 months, sometimes less. I wish I could settle sometime but in the meantime I'll try to see the brightside of this situation. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316943322439008530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ScmTyAjcwRI/AAAAAAAAADc/j-4_QZXh8_c/s320/froggy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's been a lot going in my life lately that I haven't had the time to write here. Actually, I just got home after being 2 extra hours at school doing a pointless political activity. I'm not going to be a politician when I grow up and none of the group I'm with so why do we do this ? I guess there are some things in life that we have to do even if we don't want to. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-7367588505919356841?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/7367588505919356841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/seventeen-forever.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/7367588505919356841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/7367588505919356841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/seventeen-forever.html' title='Seventeen Forever.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/ScmTyAjcwRI/AAAAAAAAADc/j-4_QZXh8_c/s72-c/froggy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-8870431792551436208</id><published>2009-03-10T18:46:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T19:40:42.942-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake up sleepyhead.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It's happening without you. Stop being so laissez-faire. We're all scared of the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm guessing this week's subject is more than obvious: the future! ._.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm scared.. but who isn't? Today, while talking to a friend, she told me that the what if's can be one of the most dangerous and addictive drugs. We may forget to live the present if we keep thinking of what would have happened if I just...? :/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So again, let's live the present without worrying too much about the future. Besides, we have to base our decisions in what WE want, cuz in the end its all that matters. (This was kind of my conclusion for this subject.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;EXAMS = the main reason for today's post. I hate them. Why do we have to do some useless tests? I still don't understand their purpose. Intelligence shouldn't be measured by them. But in the meantime I'm stuck with them. I have to study for tomorrow's exam, Man &amp;amp; Science. I really don't like anything related to infirmities, blood, or stuff like that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was a really small post. ): I'm not that inspired and I don't have a real topic. But I had the need to write something so w/e. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-8870431792551436208?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/8870431792551436208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/wake-up-sleepyhead.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/8870431792551436208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/8870431792551436208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/wake-up-sleepyhead.html' title='Wake up sleepyhead.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-3154120620896557565</id><published>2009-03-09T18:24:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T20:33:27.049-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just so you know.</title><content type='html'>So.. I wrote this during my philosophy class. Its just about all the things I was thinking at the time. Hope its understandable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SbXRJ0vtVnI/AAAAAAAAADU/IK35LW2H0hI/s1600-h/blurred!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311381302261143154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SbXRJ0vtVnI/AAAAAAAAADU/IK35LW2H0hI/s320/blurred!.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A new beginning. My head's full, I don't know what to think anymore. Freud, sex, eight? Everything's spinning. Why did he call? This is so strange. I'm willing to change my ways. I'm ashamed, I don't know what to think. Life's too short to wait for you. If only I could be with you everything would be different. Perfect boyfriend? There's no such thing. Could you take a walk with me? Let's start this again. I miss the part when we were moving forward... William Master's and Virginia Johnson. Just let go, I want to let go. Fly with me.. don't leave me alone. I found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind. This method is helping me get through philosophy class. Suicide; people who will do it don't say it out loud, people who say they're about to commit suicide just need love. Love is no big truth, driven by our genes we are simply selfish beings. Milk = great movie. A gay twin, a heterosexual twin. Debate. For you I'd bleed myself dry. Earphones? I need some soon. Only half an hour left and I'll be going to the gym. I can't wait. I just need time for myself but at the same time I don't want to be alone. I want to know that there's people who care about me, I want to leave a mark in the world. I don't want to feel like some useless cockroach. Let's jump that bridge, anything is possible if you just believe. Please, please, don't do that. I'm afraid, I miss you even though we talked yesterday. Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. We are moved by them, let's follow our hearts. Bomb? Was it real? I don't want to see my life flash before my eyes. I just want to feel alive, to feel love running through my veins. I want to be where no one has been. Are you coming with me? Just say you will. C'mon, just say you will. This works. I assure you it does. Life is long as well. Almost done, three minutes left and I'm about to leave. We always have a choice, a choice to do what we think is right. Our instincts are right for the most part. Don't drop your arms!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;LIVE, JUST LIVE FOR THE MOMENT &amp;amp; DO WHAT YOU FEEL!&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/3151529061317308431-3154120620896557565?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/3154120620896557565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-so-you-know.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/3154120620896557565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/3154120620896557565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-so-you-know.html' title='Just so you know.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SbXRJ0vtVnI/AAAAAAAAADU/IK35LW2H0hI/s72-c/blurred!.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6093732097628468490</id><published>2009-03-05T22:22:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T23:48:08.052-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe we're wired that way.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;January. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;February.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;March.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;April.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;May.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;June.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;July.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;August.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;September.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;October.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;November.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;December.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The months are going by &lt;em&gt;SO&lt;/em&gt; quickly I sometimes feel that time is passing by at a faster speed than my life. I want to do so many things that I kinda feel one life isn't enough! Maybe there are seven opportunities just like Chandra told us once, maybe we can have the opportunity to reach our own truth. I just wish I could find it right now..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;There are some things that have been dancing through my mind lately. I've learned to not take stuff too seriously because in the end you end up getting hurt or you simply get something that wasn't what you expected. Everything just falls into place when the moment is right..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Maybe we like the pain. Maybe we're wired that way. Because without it.. I don't know, maybe we just wouldn't feel real. What's that saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.&lt;br /&gt;-Grey's Anatomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309948595132199042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SbC6HSxwcII/AAAAAAAAAC8/_k9GMqAC46Q/s320/woodenfence.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I know that quote is sort of emo, but as I was watching an episode of Grey's Anatomy they said it at the end and it just got stuck in my mind. I think it's very true. How would life be without any downs? Where's the fun in having everything perfect? Sometimes it's necessary to have a few holes in the road, to feel something that isn't exactly good. Because we can truly understand the real value of happiness when we have felt and lived things that are just the opposite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So here's my advice, when life hands you a lemon say, "Oh yeah, I like lemons. What else you got?" :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6093732097628468490?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6093732097628468490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/maybe-were-wired-that-way.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6093732097628468490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6093732097628468490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/03/maybe-were-wired-that-way.html' title='Maybe we&apos;re wired that way.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SbC6HSxwcII/AAAAAAAAAC8/_k9GMqAC46Q/s72-c/woodenfence.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6922310698950977224</id><published>2009-02-28T22:30:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T00:58:32.477-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking.</title><content type='html'>Today I had one of the most interesting days of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did the usual stuff during the morning. I left home about 2:30pm to go to some lessons I take to learn more about God. Everything was going on so smoothly and perfectly until the priest told us that we had to go to "Misiones" if we wanted to take the confirmation sacrament (I really don't know if its the right term for it in English so forgive me if I'm wrong) . I instantly started thinking that it was unfair because they first told us that it was an optional thing. When I talked to the priest and told him I couldn't go because spring break's the only time I have to go to Reynosa to see my family and friends he told me that I had to go to Oaxaca cuz it was obligatory. I called my mom just after that and &lt;em&gt;started crying&lt;/em&gt; because &lt;strong&gt;aaaaaaggh, &lt;/strong&gt;I don't really want to go to Misiones if I'm gonna be wishing to be in Reynosa during the whole trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very confused.. If I really don't want to go to Oaxaca does it mean that I'm not that commited to God? :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to think.. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SaotAbDdCHI/AAAAAAAAACc/r6U-MeMgfgI/s1600-h/city.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308104596095043698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SaotAbDdCHI/AAAAAAAAACc/r6U-MeMgfgI/s320/city.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was so pissed off after leaving Church that instead of going home I went to Coyoacan all by myself. The subway left me just outside Centro Coyoacan. I went inside and saw most of the mall.. I had never been there and its really really nice. To be honest, I wanted to go to where all the small shops where but I didn't know where they were so I just started walking without course. I started following some really hot guys (and a woman) and they kinda look lost as well so we walked somewhat "together". We finally got to the main street and then I went in search of a delicious stuffed churro and they went to some libraries.&lt;br /&gt;It was the first time I went to Coyoacan on my own so I really didn't know where everything was. I started walking around the main streets and appreciating the richness of Mexico's culture. It helped me forget the things I was mad about. Walking down the street I found my cousin Melissa. She was also alone (weird huh?) and we decided to go for an ice cream or something. I really had a good time spending time with her because truth be told, I wasn't very fond of her and I used to think that she was odd. But now that I got to know her a little better, my perspective changed a lot, in a good way. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today, I also realized that I &lt;strong&gt;LOVE&lt;/strong&gt; walking through the city even if I don't have an exact destination. If you haven't done it yet, you should some day. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6922310698950977224?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6922310698950977224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-i-had-one-of-most-interesting.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6922310698950977224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6922310698950977224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-i-had-one-of-most-interesting.html' title='Walking.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SaotAbDdCHI/AAAAAAAAACc/r6U-MeMgfgI/s72-c/city.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-3116870704823664274</id><published>2009-02-26T13:18:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T13:42:53.670-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and Found.</title><content type='html'>So, its been a while since my last post :( but honestly..this school is slowly killing me.&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday, I slept only 2 hours 30 minutes and 46 seconds.. and yesterday I paid the price.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm gonna try to sleep early during school days but sometimes its very difficult when you have people to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the main topic of today's post is about losing things. :(&lt;br /&gt;I tend to do that. A LOT. and its not on purpose, I swear. Is just that I can be very easily distracted and I guess thats the main problem.&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that I sometimes lose some of the things that I care about the most. And I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;But if I'm lucky, I find them like 2 or 3 days later and that just brightens my day. But if I'm not, I end up hating the fact that I'm very distracted. I need to find a way to keep safe everything I have..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend's almost here and thats something to look forward to. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Random thought: &lt;/strong&gt;I want to live in San Antonio to see all of my favorite bands!!!!!!! Yesterday I found out that The Used is giving a show on March 20. If only I could go....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. this really isn't what I expected from this post but I'm in a GREEAAAAAT French class and I had the need to write something here..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-3116870704823664274?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/3116870704823664274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/lost-and-found.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/3116870704823664274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/3116870704823664274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/lost-and-found.html' title='Lost and Found.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-4065713742111655233</id><published>2009-02-20T21:54:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T23:03:00.592-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Aim for the stars</title><content type='html'>and maybe you'll reach the sky..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305109793668063186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZ-JP-oH39I/AAAAAAAAACM/UxcAr5gL958/s320/skyy.bmp" border="0" /&gt;Last night, as I was talking to a friend, I started telling him everything about my worries and biggest fears.. he listened closely and told me to watch a video. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did, and it helped a lot. So I'll post here some of my favorite parts.. It helped me change my perspection of life and I hope it helps you too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, never mind.&lt;br /&gt;You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Don't&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;worry about the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do one thing every day that scares you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.&lt;br /&gt;The race is long and, in the end, it's only with &lt;em&gt;yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Remember compliments you receive.&lt;br /&gt;Forget the insults.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get plenty of calcium.&lt;br /&gt;Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe you'll divorce at 40.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enjoy your body.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Use it every way you can.&lt;br /&gt;Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it.&lt;br /&gt;It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dance.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.&lt;br /&gt;Do not read beauty magazines.&lt;br /&gt;They will only make you feel ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Get to know your parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;You never know when they'll be gone for good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Be nice to your siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Live in "New York City" once, but leave before it makes you hard.&lt;br /&gt;Live in "Northern California" once, but leave before it makes you soft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Travel.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's the link to the video. Watch it if you can.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CVB8YSOLK4"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CVB8YSOLK4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-4065713742111655233?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/4065713742111655233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/aim-for-stars.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4065713742111655233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/4065713742111655233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/aim-for-stars.html' title='Aim for the stars'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZ-JP-oH39I/AAAAAAAAACM/UxcAr5gL958/s72-c/skyy.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-8003406487671311478</id><published>2009-02-19T20:40:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T23:06:36.634-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody's changing..</title><content type='html'>And I don't know why..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304751852434166722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZ5DtDnvE8I/AAAAAAAAAB8/8djxIrhyJlI/s320/spaceball.JPG" border="0" /&gt;While riding the school bus back home, I realized that a song can mean so much for some persons and so little for others.. The time and mood you're in while listening to a song is what's going to determine whether that song will mean something to your life or not. A song can take you back instantly to a moment, a place, or even a person. No matter what happens around you, that song remains the same, just like that one moment that stays forever in your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you hear a song in the exact moment you need it, it may act as a life saver if it has to. I've heard a lot of cases of people who were about to commit suicide and that all of a sudden they heard THE song that made them change their mind..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Music's an incredible force, the great uniter. I love the fact that is something that people who differ on everything and anything else can have in common. It's a bonding thing cuz it usually brings people together, even if they don't want to. You can be yourself with people who share the same taste in music that you do because you feel in a "safe-zone" (or at least thats what happens to me most of the time..)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of the day:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;"Some people are too scared or something to think things can be different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;The world's not exactly...shit. I guess it's hard for some people who are so used to things the way they are - even if they're bad - to change and they kinda give up and when they do, everybody loses."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Photo Credit: Rodrigo Rodriguez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&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/3151529061317308431-8003406487671311478?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/8003406487671311478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/everybodys-changing.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/8003406487671311478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/8003406487671311478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/everybodys-changing.html' title='Everybody&apos;s changing..'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZ5DtDnvE8I/AAAAAAAAAB8/8djxIrhyJlI/s72-c/spaceball.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-6635551457593420534</id><published>2009-02-18T20:34:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T21:47:35.373-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions..</title><content type='html'>I am SO tired. And I think I just messed up my right leg. -.- cheers for that!&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know what to write but I have the need to.. so I'll just post what comes through my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZzVIBpoTOI/AAAAAAAAABs/bkxa4Dw4krw/s1600-h/tracks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304348794994314466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZzVIBpoTOI/AAAAAAAAABs/bkxa4Dw4krw/s320/tracks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What should I do? Where should I study? WHAT should I study? Those are some of the questions that have been dancing through my mind lately..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll probably go to Linares to do a semester of geophysics engineering to see if I really like the career.. or maybe I'll go to UT Pan American to do the basics and start working to start being considered as US resident.. both places have their advantages but what I like is that they're closer to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decisions are hard. They are even harder when you have to decide between two different places.. but there's a point in everyone's life when you have to go your own way.. it would be perfect to have the people you love at your side in every step of the way but we all know thats not how it works.. :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-6635551457593420534?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/6635551457593420534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/decisions.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6635551457593420534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/6635551457593420534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/decisions.html' title='Decisions..'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZzVIBpoTOI/AAAAAAAAABs/bkxa4Dw4krw/s72-c/tracks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-1631158335531947157</id><published>2009-02-17T17:46:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T18:48:54.754-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Run..you'll get there eventually.</title><content type='html'>Today was the day I realized that I hate and love to run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a really boring philosophy class it was time for football practice. I went to the girls' room to change to some sport clothes and then I headed to the field. When I arrived my coach told me I had to run 3 laps to the field. I usually complain but today was different. I started running at a normal speed..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZtUZY18ZeI/AAAAAAAAABk/Qylw3LgVvY0/s1600-h/running.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303925781301061090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZtUZY18ZeI/AAAAAAAAABk/Qylw3LgVvY0/s320/running.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Feeling the air as I run was something I hadn't realized I love. Its an amazing feeling because if you run just a little bit faster you can almost pretend you're flying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also like the competition, even when it has to be with yourself. While I was running happily, a girl got in front of me rapidly (I guess I was running too slow). When I saw her in front of me a feeling invaded my body. Miraculously, I had something to look forward to, an obstacle to get passed over. I started running faster and faster until I caught up with her. She obviously didn't know I was kinda racing her but it didn't matter. I felt good with myself, thats when I really love to run, when I have a pretend goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as in everything, theres another side to the story. I also hate to run without a purpose. Its just pointless, there're other ways to work out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-1631158335531947157?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/1631158335531947157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/runyoull-get-there-eventually.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1631158335531947157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/1631158335531947157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/runyoull-get-there-eventually.html' title='Run..you&apos;ll get there eventually.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZtUZY18ZeI/AAAAAAAAABk/Qylw3LgVvY0/s72-c/running.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-7714273291830378325</id><published>2009-02-16T21:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T21:52:17.297-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here it goes again..</title><content type='html'>So I was thinking... that having this blog could be something very useful in the future. :)&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when I get old I could use my everlasting free time to read all the things I used to write when I was young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Random thought&lt;/strong&gt;: Twitter is useful to stalk people! :D I am following almost all the members of Mayday Parade. The only one missing is Jeremy but I guess is just a matter of time before he gets an account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZozSVz3SSI/AAAAAAAAABc/DcqyDdZNf30/s1600-h/maydayparadetwitter.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303607901367519522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 66px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZozSVz3SSI/AAAAAAAAABc/DcqyDdZNf30/s320/maydayparadetwitter.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They still remain as one of my favorite bands and I love the way they sing. For what I've read from them is that they are writing the songs for the new cd. I can't wait!!! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. I wish I had the imagination Eric has ._.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-7714273291830378325?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/7714273291830378325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/here-it-goes-again.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/7714273291830378325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/7714273291830378325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/here-it-goes-again.html' title='Here it goes again..'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZozSVz3SSI/AAAAAAAAABc/DcqyDdZNf30/s72-c/maydayparadetwitter.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151529061317308431.post-2936142038598048897</id><published>2009-02-16T19:56:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T22:58:11.894-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I have to learn how to let go.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;It really surprises me the fact that I can't seem to get over someone and its starting to annoy me, big time. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Why can't I be like Eric and get over someone like instantly? (when it was time to forget) I try and try but I just can't. I guess I have to try harder. He isn't even good looking or a good person. But I've met someone that could help me get over that bad phase, hopefully. Today while I was eating, we watched a mexican program that talked about some random relationship that was kind of free relationship. And I never want to have that D: &lt;strong&gt;I have to learn how to let go.&lt;/strong&gt; I decided that I deserve someone like John Marieee but with nicer ways. I just hope he gets here soon cuz I sometimes feel alone even when I'm surrounded by persons. I know this sounds very emo, but I assure you that I'm not. I just have emotional issues lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for my first entry I think writing this kinda helped. :)&lt;br /&gt;Maybe Eric's right and I'll end up loving this blog..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3151529061317308431-2936142038598048897?l=tanyabadillo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/feeds/2936142038598048897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-to-learn-how-to-let-go.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2936142038598048897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3151529061317308431/posts/default/2936142038598048897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tanyabadillo.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-to-learn-how-to-let-go.html' title='I have to learn how to let go.'/><author><name>Tanya badillO</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07435975737192598938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvTqUCC8tLQ/SZoYHvcAgCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EViJhYW6CfI/S220/PC060098.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
