<?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-6417925342152589000</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:50:35.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jac the Knife</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-8608323736339217363</id><published>2009-06-09T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T18:16:43.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Steamers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Si4kmELEzMI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/vfFNS2dWUPM/s1600-h/IMG_4016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Si4kmELEzMI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/vfFNS2dWUPM/s320/IMG_4016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345250044109180098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Si4kl4OTEYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/IhRoTu0MuFc/s1600-h/IMG_4027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Si4kl4OTEYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/IhRoTu0MuFc/s320/IMG_4027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345250040901472642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Si4klibdfOI/AAAAAAAAAFA/VljPRsSdDmY/s1600-h/IMG_3984.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Si4klibdfOI/AAAAAAAAAFA/VljPRsSdDmY/s320/IMG_3984.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345250035051101410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I went to Steamers in Downtown Fullerton.  What a great place to visit when you're in the mood for jazz. Besides there being so many old people, the music made me feel like I was in a different time.  I definitely recommend everyone going there.  You'll never be disappointed with what you hear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-8608323736339217363?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/8608323736339217363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=8608323736339217363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/8608323736339217363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/8608323736339217363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html#8608323736339217363' title='Steamers'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Si4kmELEzMI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/vfFNS2dWUPM/s72-c/IMG_4016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-7004635881198873080</id><published>2009-04-20T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T02:23:58.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>isabella ella</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew--ONsVyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/sFkNIcseVl8/s1600-h/IMG_2777.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew--ONsVyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/sFkNIcseVl8/s320/IMG_2777.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326701697960793890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew--BT6v6I/AAAAAAAAAEw/QsJvDHW2FsQ/s1600-h/IMG_2792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew--BT6v6I/AAAAAAAAAEw/QsJvDHW2FsQ/s320/IMG_2792.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326701694497243042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew-93N3_uI/AAAAAAAAAEo/6-N_I4nPWYQ/s1600-h/IMG_2784.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew-93N3_uI/AAAAAAAAAEo/6-N_I4nPWYQ/s320/IMG_2784.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326701691787542242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew-9sGsw5I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Gq7k613MZQs/s1600-h/IMG_2797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew-9sGsw5I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Gq7k613MZQs/s320/IMG_2797.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326701688804656018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took some head shots of my cousin Lalabelle.  She's a cutie huh? ;D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-7004635881198873080?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/7004635881198873080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=7004635881198873080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7004635881198873080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7004635881198873080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#7004635881198873080' title='isabella ella'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sew--ONsVyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/sFkNIcseVl8/s72-c/IMG_2777.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-635619795724639035</id><published>2009-04-05T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T14:12:23.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am more confident than I think I am. &lt;br /&gt;I am a picky girl.  &lt;br /&gt;I know what I want.&lt;br /&gt;I get myself into situations where I should not be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-635619795724639035?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/635619795724639035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=635619795724639035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/635619795724639035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/635619795724639035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#635619795724639035' title=''/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-8786356202927223885</id><published>2009-03-29T03:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T03:15:28.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i got my hair did</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sc9KFsX6HOI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZRJEjMeXiXY/s1600-h/IMG_2396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sc9KFsX6HOI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZRJEjMeXiXY/s200/IMG_2396.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318551146619084002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-8786356202927223885?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/8786356202927223885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=8786356202927223885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/8786356202927223885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/8786356202927223885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html#8786356202927223885' title='i got my hair did'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/Sc9KFsX6HOI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZRJEjMeXiXY/s72-c/IMG_2396.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-8917324705337514626</id><published>2009-02-13T12:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T13:07:53.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Companion</title><content type='html'>So my dad brought home a BABY.  MEET VALENTINE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg3xLeLrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/1jviqAI00MI/s1600-h/IMG_1249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg3xLeLrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/1jviqAI00MI/s200/IMG_1249.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302391384997506738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg3j0lMbI/AAAAAAAAAEA/z2T7OW9eero/s1600-h/IMG_1273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg3j0lMbI/AAAAAAAAAEA/z2T7OW9eero/s200/IMG_1273.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302391381411836338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg3RyYN2I/AAAAAAAAAD4/yXEqG_C-DSQ/s1600-h/IMG_1320.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg3RyYN2I/AAAAAAAAAD4/yXEqG_C-DSQ/s200/IMG_1320.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302391376570759010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg2wowcFI/AAAAAAAAADw/IsEzQTZYsEw/s1600-h/IMG_1377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg2wowcFI/AAAAAAAAADw/IsEzQTZYsEw/s200/IMG_1377.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302391367672033362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-8917324705337514626?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/8917324705337514626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=8917324705337514626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/8917324705337514626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/8917324705337514626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#8917324705337514626' title='My Companion'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SZXg3xLeLrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/1jviqAI00MI/s72-c/IMG_1249.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-7214405630319532137</id><published>2009-02-10T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T22:49:32.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a bunch of thoughts</title><content type='html'>Parents don't constantly nag us about everything because they hate us, they do it because they love us.&lt;br /&gt;Education is the KEY to success.&lt;br /&gt;Respect&lt;br /&gt;Responsibility&lt;br /&gt;Religion/Having faith&lt;br /&gt;Time is the most precious thing on earth.  There's not much time until our parents are gone.&lt;br /&gt;The positions of parent and child are switching. It's time to take care of them. &lt;br /&gt;Love Love Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-7214405630319532137?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/7214405630319532137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=7214405630319532137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7214405630319532137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7214405630319532137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#7214405630319532137' title='Just a bunch of thoughts'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-9133219836500600805</id><published>2009-02-08T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T22:15:04.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SY_J5EmzFZI/AAAAAAAAADo/6vg38q7wG40/s1600-h/simon-baker-the-mentalist-tca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SY_J5EmzFZI/AAAAAAAAADo/6vg38q7wG40/s320/simon-baker-the-mentalist-tca.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300677268764562834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of us have different favorite ice cream for every month.  This month, my favorite flavor once again is the Australian debonair sexy son of a gun... Mr. Simon Baker.  You can see him in the films "Something New" and "Devil Wears Prada".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations, flavor of the month :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-9133219836500600805?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/9133219836500600805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=9133219836500600805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/9133219836500600805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/9133219836500600805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#9133219836500600805' title=''/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SY_J5EmzFZI/AAAAAAAAADo/6vg38q7wG40/s72-c/simon-baker-the-mentalist-tca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-2343116367230638716</id><published>2009-02-04T01:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T01:59:34.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I know you're not supposed to expect much from people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But do people not have any manners these days?!  Where are the magic words?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-2343116367230638716?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/2343116367230638716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=2343116367230638716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/2343116367230638716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/2343116367230638716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#2343116367230638716' title=''/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-3648137413435441429</id><published>2009-02-03T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:45:03.862-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The enjoyment of someone's company</title><content type='html'>I had a great day today.  The sun beamed down as if it were summer.   Attempting to go to Denny's TWICE was a failure.  Although I didn't get to eat my FREE Grand Slam, I got to not eat it with my friends :)  And tonight, I hung out with friends I've never thought I'd hang out outside of school.  It was really nice.  I think I've been holding back from making new friends, but it's not a bad feeling at all.  I haven't enjoyed myself with "new" people.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are great company.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Friends are like flowers&lt;br /&gt;each unique in their own way,&lt;br /&gt;put them all together&lt;br /&gt;what a wonderful bouquet...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-3648137413435441429?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/3648137413435441429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=3648137413435441429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3648137413435441429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3648137413435441429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#3648137413435441429' title='The enjoyment of someone&apos;s company'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-3332547997700030594</id><published>2009-02-03T02:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T02:06:28.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You don't realize that you have lost something good until it's gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you lost it.  You had your chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-3332547997700030594?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/3332547997700030594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=3332547997700030594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3332547997700030594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3332547997700030594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#3332547997700030594' title=''/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-4470919307013614811</id><published>2009-01-31T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T14:18:37.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time is precious</title><content type='html'>The clocks are ticking.  Everyday, everyone gets closer to their death.  We get older.  People die.  Babies are born.  And there is no way to turn back time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazing how life passes by so quickly.   "It seems like yesterday, you were just a little girl,"  parents will say.  How silly for adults to say that!  I mean it feels like forever since I was a little girl.  But as I am slowly becoming more independent as an adult, there are so many things that I am aware of. Reality is: life does go away in a blink of an eye.  I remember when my dad would carry me around all the time, and now it seems like he has a hard time going up the stairs.  Our bodies go through this cycle of getting stronger and suddenly becoming weaker.  I always thought that the older you got, the bigger you got, so big that you couldn't fit in your bed anymore.  Of course this was the little Jaclyn mentality, and of course that's not true.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Age was the topic of mine and my dad's conversation a few nights ago.  We were looking at a brochure of boats where you can hold events on.  My dad said he'd like to celebrate his 60th birthday on one of these boats next year.  I realized, when my dad turns 60 I'm going to be 21.  "HOLY CRAP," I thought.  The year of the big birthdays.  My dad said, "I'm getting old.  I wouldn't mind if I died in 20 years.  That's good enough for me."  Oh God!  Just thinking about my parents leaving in 20 years makes me cry.  And I'm turning 20 this year!  The thought of my parents leaving is too difficult to think about.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly have this anxiety of what is my future going to be like.  Our parents raised us, taught us, and prepared us to be independent.  And in a few years we're going to finally "fly" from the nest and live our own lives.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a scary thought...leaving the "nest".  It's going to be tough, stressful, overwhelming, mysterious.  But then again, life should be exciting in the future.  I'm going to gain more wisdom.  It's going to be filled with so many adventures, new experiences, and I will apply the life lessons my parents taught me that will make life more valuable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-4470919307013614811?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/4470919307013614811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=4470919307013614811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/4470919307013614811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/4470919307013614811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#4470919307013614811' title='Time is precious'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-6493111294027486727</id><published>2009-01-26T21:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T22:06:17.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's time to grow up</title><content type='html'>When did life get so hard all of a sudden?!  As I stepped onto campus, I found myself flustered and running around the school just to get request forms signed, to pay for my permit, to change my major!  So many decisions in life especially for me right now.  I have always been very sheltered my entire life by being told what I should take and being suggested what I should do with my life, but today it hit me: I HAVE TO MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS.  I mean of course I knew that! but it's really getting down to the serious things.   It's a scary thing to think about your future.  What am I going to do with my life?  Where do I want to be in 10 years?  What am I meant to do?  I am jealous of those people who knew what they were meant to do, who know how they're going to contribute to helping others in the future.  For me, it has been a long roller coaster of ideas, and it sucks.  And sometimes I wish that someone could look into a crystal ball and tell me my future.  But I think I am fine now.  I have settled with what I want to do, and I am happy with my choice.  Wherever my choice takes me, I will do my best to be great at it.  And not everyone's life is straightforward.  Some people have to go through a lot of ups and downs to figure out their lives.  I have to remember that life is an adventure.  I would ruin the fun if I found out the ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time, Ciao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-6493111294027486727?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/6493111294027486727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=6493111294027486727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6493111294027486727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6493111294027486727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#6493111294027486727' title='It&apos;s time to grow up'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-5389281202002341071</id><published>2009-01-23T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T17:12:02.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess this is what love is?</title><content type='html'>I've had a good experience on relationships.  I may not have been in one, but I can tell you I have learned a lot through experiences of my friends and family.  It's sad, when you're in that stage of trying to make something work-whether you're in a relationship already or when you want to build one up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it applies to friendship too.  A relationship should be effortless.  Things just click between you and the other person IN THE BEGINNING.  The hard part is maintaining the relationship. That's where the effort comes in. "It takes two to tango" Both persons have to be reciprocating feelings to each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this is my interpretation of what Love is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote to someone: " but i'd imagine that love is like putting pieces of a puzzle together. You spend hours, days, etc. putting the pieces together, it might take a long time but in the end its a beautiful picture! It's not something you can just work on... put it aside... wait weeks or months to finish because if you did, it becomes a complete waste of time and energy, making you come to the point of giving up.... here you have something really good that is incomplete, and you just can't stand it to be that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad you wrote her a letter, got things out of your chest. You can officially move forward. If she likes you, then that's great! if she doesn't, then that's good too because you don't have to wait for her to help you finish the puzzle."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to those who have been in relationships... is that how it is?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-5389281202002341071?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/5389281202002341071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=5389281202002341071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5389281202002341071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5389281202002341071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#5389281202002341071' title='I guess this is what love is?'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-484548589676660058</id><published>2008-11-18T03:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T03:29:51.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WOW</title><content type='html'>So tonight, I have been met with another realization: &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;EVERYONE IN SOME SORT OF WAY IS SHALLOW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me how I found out, but I found out what a person thought of me.  I guess i was an "option" for this person, but apparently I did not fit his criteria.  Why?  Because I have a "hugggeeeeee chin". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can admit, that I have a huge chin, but it's still kind of messed up. ahahah&lt;br /&gt;There's a lot of pepole with huge everything! Obama has huge ears, Adam Sandler has a egg shaped head, some people have huge noses.   Good thing I laughed it off, instead of getting hurt about it.  But it did make me realize how shallow and mean this person really was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've wasted my time caring for a person who made fun of me?  I was shocked, but hey, you can't blame the guy for pin pointing at something so "huggeee".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess a lot of people are like that, like me.  I can admit say that I have pointed out something about a persons physical feature, BUT it wasn't to a point where I made fun of them for it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, this guy is a waste of my energy.  I am glad to finally see him more of an asshole than someone I wish would care about me, because OBVIOUSLY he doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I always fall for assholes? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-484548589676660058?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/484548589676660058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=484548589676660058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/484548589676660058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/484548589676660058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#484548589676660058' title='WOW'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-3212402081451536521</id><published>2008-10-04T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T01:59:53.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired by Twilight</title><content type='html'>I've been quite emotional lately, which isn't new news ahah.  And at the same time, I've been reading Twilight by Stephanie Meyers (BTW THAT'S A REALLY GOOD BOOK).  With that combination, I poured out my feelings inspired to write in Stephanie's style.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please, before you make fun of me :-p, just keep in mind I'm emotional and writing is not my forte :D ALRIGHT &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;There was something about him I wanted to divulge.  I wanted to crack the shell that opened to his deepest thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picked up his belongings quickly and left me speechless unable to say anything to him at all.  I felt as though he forgot about me as he walked away, but he suddenly remembered and said, "Adios," still walking toward the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart ached, I hoped, for the last time.  That was it. I was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's quite embarrassing to express my feelings bout Adam.  I couldn't understand what my emotions were telling me.  However, it was clear that he had a great affect on me due to the constant pounding I heard my heart make inside my chest. He literally made it beat faster and slower at the same time.  The closer I approached him, the more my heart beat with excitement and nervousness, and suddenly I'd feel a flush of fever.  When I was in front of him, it began to slow down reminding me that I was on earth and that I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; breathe.  But when I left his existence, it beat back to its previous rhythm; I was convinced that the short moment I had with him was surreal.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It was real,&lt;/span&gt; and I dreaded the fact that I wouldn't see him anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day he left me, I was planning to invite him to go out with me sometime.  I craved for his presence.  I was curious to know everything about him, and I didn't know why.  There was nothing special about him really, and yet he managed to catch my attention.  His indecipherable expressions left me on the edge of wanting to know more. And it remained that way although our acquainted relationship grew into a friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether he had some sort of feeling toward me or if this was a one man show, Adam seemed to know how to play the game.  He knew what hurt me and knew what made me blissful.  He was evil to do such a thing.  And it was ridiculous how fast I could easily forgive him too.  The moment he did something that pleased my vulnerable heart, I shunned all the things he did that destroyed me within.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can say Adam was like a cigarette.  I knew the more I breathed him in, the more he killed me inside.  He was so addictive, and i couldn't' stop hurting myself. I continued inviting him to accompany me , and embarrassingly 90% of the time, I faced rejection.  Yet I still continued.  I was persistent and I was on a mission to get what I wanted, even though I knew I was going to be disappointed in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first day I laid my eyes on him.  He was so insignificant, so common.  I was unaware that this ordinary person would turn out to be extraordinary.  A high school friend introduced him to me.  He was so shy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello," I initiated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With his forced smirk, he quickly replied, "Hi."  He seemed to have no interest in meeting me.  I was hesitant to sit next to him .  He was so conservative, yet his silence was so intimidating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-3212402081451536521?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/3212402081451536521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=3212402081451536521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3212402081451536521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3212402081451536521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#3212402081451536521' title='Inspired by Twilight'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-4287608467152712013</id><published>2008-09-16T03:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T04:35:08.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Worth</title><content type='html'>I couldn't accept the fact that things were not going to go my way.  But when things don't go your way, you have to know that it's okay.  What I'm going through is like painting a picture.  When you paint reality, you can't just paint a bunch of random things, you're going to paint what you see, what is there.  I mean you can, but it's not reality, and I guess in certain situations you can't paint your own reality.  You have to accept things the way they are.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have accepted, or at least I slowly am.  Although I still have these feelings floating in the air, I am trying my best to accept THIS reality.  It's good to still have hope in something that could be real; it's important to not expect so much but to expect the worst. Unfortunately, I have high expectations in people. After seeing my cousins and girlfriends go through heartaches and endless nights of crying, my standard in a potential boyfriend has been going up, and when someone I care about does not reach up to that standard, I easily get disappointed- WHICH IS HORRIBLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I am still insecure, I have to be reminded of my self worth.  I should be thinking highly of myself considering (not being cocky) that I have so many good qualities.  Are you blind?!  The only thing I can say is that, I am one of the rare fish in the sea.  I guarantee the fisherman that has me hooked is going to be so lucky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why should I put myself in so much sadness when I don't even need to be?!  Like with friends, it's pointless wasting your time and energy on someone who doesn't do the same for you.  If he can't even see what's right in front of him, then he's an idiot.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KNOW HOW MUCH YOU ARE "WORTH IT"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loving yourself is the key to learning how to love others and they loving you back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-4287608467152712013?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/4287608467152712013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=4287608467152712013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/4287608467152712013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/4287608467152712013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#4287608467152712013' title='Self Worth'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-5141415223987495453</id><published>2008-09-14T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:31:32.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A sense of hope</title><content type='html'>Hope is passion for what is possible.&lt;br /&gt;-- Soren Kierkegaard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be afraid of the space between your dreams and reality. If you can dream it, you can make it so.&lt;br /&gt;-- Belva Davis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.&lt;br /&gt;-- Helen Keller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.&lt;br /&gt;-- Helen Keller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it.&lt;br /&gt;-- Jacques Prevert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To fall in love is awfully simple, but to fall out of love is simply awful."&lt;br /&gt;Bess Myerson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-5141415223987495453?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/5141415223987495453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=5141415223987495453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5141415223987495453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5141415223987495453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#5141415223987495453' title='A sense of hope'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-6288284146507466352</id><published>2008-09-14T03:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T04:13:12.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>giving up?</title><content type='html'>"should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements even if it leads nowhere"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words that most of us can relate to.  When should a person stop making an effort to pursue someone?  It's a dilemma that I hate going through.  The feeling of there being great potential but at the same time know that chasing pavements is going to lead nowhere but disappointment.  What is the use of holding on and hoping if you know it's not going to work out?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so hard to accept the fact that nothing will ever happen. Is it desperation when someone is willing to be at the same presence with the person they like/love even if in the end it'll only make you more sad, more disappointed? What an awful feeling to put myself through, and yet I do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We like to make up excuses for the people who are JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-6288284146507466352?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/6288284146507466352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=6288284146507466352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6288284146507466352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6288284146507466352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#6288284146507466352' title='giving up?'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-2017561699202052411</id><published>2008-09-12T01:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T01:42:38.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The More I See You</title><content type='html'>"... the more I want you.  Somehow this feeling just grows and grows.  With every sigh I become more mad about you, more lost without, and so it goes. " &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OqE3ASpTDIA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OqE3ASpTDIA&amp;hl=en&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;It's funny, how much you make me feel.  It's to the point where my heart gets filled with butterflies not at the sight of you, when someone mentions you. (creepy ahha )  My heart starts racing and it just can't stop.  And when I don't see you, it's like I'm locking up all my emotions and I just want to just let it all out.  o_O  if you had the slightest idea and if you had some kind of reciprocated feelings.. i would just.. feell so damn awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would say it like this.. but... SUBSITUDE LOVE FOR LIKE. AHAHAH &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1qIV_4JVEN8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1qIV_4JVEN8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-2017561699202052411?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/2017561699202052411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=2017561699202052411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/2017561699202052411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/2017561699202052411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#2017561699202052411' title='The More I See You'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-5612661167339128620</id><published>2008-09-09T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T10:52:05.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Quote to Remember</title><content type='html'>Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 2 Corinthians 5:17&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-5612661167339128620?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/5612661167339128620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=5612661167339128620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5612661167339128620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5612661167339128620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#5612661167339128620' title='A Quote to Remember'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-5010785232785954773</id><published>2008-09-07T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T17:07:00.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WORK IT!</title><content type='html'>Ever since I was little I always had self-esteem issues.  Even til this day, sometimes when I walk into a room, and I hear a group of people laughing, I immediately assume they're laughing at me.  I scare myself into thinking that there is something wrong with me when there's nothing wrong.  This happened to me last night:  friends were laughing so hard, and when they looked at me they laughed louder.  I felt embarassed FOR NO GOOD REASON.  I ran into the restroom, and wondered what was wrong with me.  Was there something on my face?  Does my outfit look funny? I didn't find anything.  I realized it was all in my head.  I was tricking myself into thinking that they were laughing at me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to learn to be our own best friends because we fall too easily into the trap of being our own worst enemies.  ~Roderick Thorp, Rainbow Drive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's all in what you believe to be true.  If I believe that my outfit looks stupid WHEN I KNOW it looks BOMB (ahah) I'm going to "trap" myself into being my own worst enemy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if they were intentionally laughing at me, there is nothing for me to embarrassed about.  I just have to keep my head up high, and not care about what others think about me.  The only thing they do is make me feel like shit, and WHY would I want to surround myself with those kinds of people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for you all who suffer from "non confidence"  FOLLOW THESE STEPS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;  1. Before making your entrance, take a deep breath. Run a hand through your hair, stand up straight, and slowly exhale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   2. When walking, walk swiftly but carefully. If you are going for I'm-in-a-rush kind of image, walk extremely fast. If you are going for I'm-in-no-hurry kind of image, walk with strong steps. Let the people drink you in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   3. Walk with posture. Nothing says, "I'm not confident" like slouching. Walk with shoulders high, waist not bent, and legs locked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   4. Smile! Frowning or looking timid will only draw more "non confidence" towards you. Smile at everyone you know or other friendly looking people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   5. Remember you have just as much right to walk around as any other person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND LOVE YOURSELF, BECAUSE YOU'RE THE SHIT!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-5010785232785954773?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/5010785232785954773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=5010785232785954773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5010785232785954773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5010785232785954773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#5010785232785954773' title='WORK IT!'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-319059441856513978</id><published>2008-09-04T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T12:54:25.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>College Student</title><content type='html'>I am just a typical college student who doesn't know what she wants to do with her life?  Unfortunately I am not one of those people who knew what she wanted to be when she was a little girl.  I had dreams about a being famous musician, being a chef, being a doctor, a teacher... whatever.  But RIGHT NOW I am having such a difficult time trying to figure out what I am called to become.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our purpose on earth-when we choose a career- I believe, is to ultimately help others, to inspire others. My initial and obvious path is to become a doctor just like my parents.  And it's hard when you have parents that have their heart set out on you becoming something you're not sure what you want to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been taking a Political Science class, and never in my life did I ever think learning about politics was so interesting! How our government works and how difficult it is to come up with an ideal government to please everyone.  Maybe it was due to the shitty teacher I had in high school, but I have never been so excited about a class.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my parents want me to be on the safe path which leads to becoming a doctor and a harp teacher that believes in my talents and thinks I can do so much more.  i am sitting here wondering what I am called to be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I do?  Do I want to become a child psychiatrist, a person who children can depend on and seek help, a musician who shares her talent, or can I become a ... I don't a lawyer that defends people? ahahah I don't know! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sucks! I wish I could do everything, but I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alll I know is that no matter what I choose to do, I'll do my best, and I am going to be the best.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, which one do I pick?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-319059441856513978?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/319059441856513978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=319059441856513978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/319059441856513978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/319059441856513978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#319059441856513978' title='College Student'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-6535349507348582733</id><published>2008-08-30T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T11:27:35.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I THINK I FOUND MY WEDDING SONG. HAHAAHH</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2QJE4M29iYI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2QJE4M29iYI&amp;hl=en&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;When somebody loves you&lt;br /&gt;Its no good unless he loves you - all the way&lt;br /&gt;Happy to be near you&lt;br /&gt;When you need someone to cheer you - all the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taller than the tallest tree is&lt;br /&gt;Thats how its got to feel&lt;br /&gt;Deeper than the deep blue see is&lt;br /&gt;Thats how deep it goes - if its real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When somebody needs you&lt;br /&gt;Its no good unless he needs you - all the way&lt;br /&gt;Through the good or lean years&lt;br /&gt;And for all the in between years - come what may&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows where the road will lead us&lt;br /&gt;Only a fool would say&lt;br /&gt;But if youll let me love you&lt;br /&gt;Its for sure Im gonna love you - all the way, all the way&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-6535349507348582733?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/6535349507348582733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=6535349507348582733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6535349507348582733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6535349507348582733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#6535349507348582733' title='I THINK I FOUND MY WEDDING SONG. HAHAAHH'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-7129521726799886752</id><published>2008-08-30T02:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T02:35:15.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone to watch over me</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VuHgGsP1eOA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VuHgGsP1eOA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;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;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There’s a saying old, says that love is blind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Still we’re often told, "seek and ye shall find"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; So I’m going to seek a certain lad I’ve had in mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking everywhere, haven’t found him yet&lt;br /&gt;He’s the big affair I cannot forget&lt;br /&gt;Only man I ever think of with regret&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d like to add his initial to my monogram&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a somebody I’m longin’ to see&lt;br /&gt;I hope that he, turns out to be&lt;br /&gt;Someone who’ll watch over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood&lt;br /&gt;I know I could, always be good&lt;br /&gt;To one who’ll watch over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although he may not be the man some&lt;br /&gt;Girls think of as handsome&lt;br /&gt;To my heart he carries the key&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won’t you tell him please to put on some speed&lt;br /&gt;Follow my lead, oh, how I need&lt;br /&gt;Someone to watch over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(bridge)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won’t you tell him please to put on some speed&lt;br /&gt;Follow my lead, oh, how I need&lt;br /&gt;Someone to watch over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone to watch over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand this "game".  Do I go for what I want or do I just wait and let things flow?  Anyway, this song mirrors what I am currently feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-7129521726799886752?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/7129521726799886752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=7129521726799886752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7129521726799886752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7129521726799886752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#7129521726799886752' title='Someone to watch over me'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-5963083326560757605</id><published>2008-08-26T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T22:43:22.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GREAT!</title><content type='html'>I'm back at school, and finally a sophomore!!! I am so happy to see familiar faces and meeting new people.  And it feels so great to use my brain again.  I LOVE LEARNING! ahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate fish tacos with mis amigas Amanda and Tricia tonight.  Hanging out with them made me realize how much I missed being at school and them of course :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great school. Great people&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-5963083326560757605?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/5963083326560757605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=5963083326560757605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5963083326560757605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/5963083326560757605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#5963083326560757605' title='GREAT!'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-1677318472068514307</id><published>2008-08-24T02:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T03:24:13.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Late, summer '08,</title><content type='html'>It is the last day of my summer.  Before I start the new school year, I am going to reminisce about what I did these past few months!  This has been one of my most memorable and enjoyable summers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I went to the Philippines for 2 weeks! There  I visited my family, helped with the medical mission, spent my birthday there, held the smallest monkey in the world!,  visited and relaxed on the beach of Boracay, and threw up my alcohol for the first time, SAW my cousins get wild, OH and i gained 10 lbs.  lovely&lt;br /&gt;-Watched Iron Man&lt;br /&gt;-Marco graduated from high school!&lt;br /&gt;-Unfortunately, I lost one of my best friends.&lt;br /&gt;-Watched The Hulk&lt;br /&gt;-Maria came up from San Diego to teach doctors how to dance to "One"!&lt;br /&gt;-Maria finally took care of my drunken butt at Hideki's going away party.&lt;br /&gt;- Valerie and I took our first cue... q pics!&lt;br /&gt;-Lakers lost ahaha&lt;br /&gt;-Liz and I had a movie night and watched for about 10 hours straight&lt;br /&gt;-I went job hunting for weeks.  Didn't get any call backs but finally got my first job at CEFIORE!&lt;br /&gt;-Trixie and I found $50 dollars on the sand at Huntington Beach, but walked a million miles to our destination.&lt;br /&gt;-Maria, Michael, and Brittany were up from SD!&lt;br /&gt;-Spent July 4 with the Fatima girls!&lt;br /&gt;-Went to a random party with Rodney, Adri, and Caroline&lt;br /&gt;-Caroline and I tried Hookah for the first time&lt;br /&gt;-Had a dinner night with Fatima kids!&lt;br /&gt;-I started working out, so those 10 lbs were finally lost&lt;br /&gt;-Went on the train to San Diego.  I visited some friends like MARIA, MICHAEL, MERYN, RYAN. Watched the greatest movie, The Dark Knight.  Went Jet Skiing!&lt;br /&gt;-Went to Riverside and watched The Dark Knight AGAIN, with my cousins&lt;br /&gt;-Went to the beach with Valerie and biked down PCH, and ate the best TACOS ever&lt;br /&gt;-Celebrated Tim's birthday!&lt;br /&gt;-Alyssa slept over!&lt;br /&gt;-Hung out with Lauralee :)&lt;br /&gt;-Celebrated my brothers birthday!&lt;br /&gt;-Celebrated my Daddy's birthday&lt;br /&gt;-Almost got killed at kevin's party&lt;br /&gt;-Went to the beach with my siblings, liz and kai!&lt;br /&gt;-Ate a boiling crab&lt;br /&gt;-Went to the OC Fair&lt;br /&gt;-Trixie's and Adri's kick back&lt;br /&gt;-Watched Seesterhood of the traveling pants with the seeestterrrs&lt;br /&gt;-Celebrated Evelyns birthday with the rosary girls :)&lt;br /&gt;-went to Six Flags&lt;br /&gt;-WAtched the stars with Mindy and John&lt;br /&gt;-Went to Danielles birthday with Mindy&lt;br /&gt;-Ate with Mindy&lt;br /&gt;-Slept over Mels house!&lt;br /&gt;-Got visited by many Cefiore fans ahah my friends&lt;br /&gt;-crab shack&lt;br /&gt;HAIRCUTS&lt;br /&gt;-Got asked out by a weirdo. ahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what else... damn thats a lot. ahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this summer has been a blast.  and ON my last day I will spend it playing my harp, and working,, AND hopefully giving someone a Birthday yogurt.  we'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;til next time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-1677318472068514307?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/1677318472068514307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=1677318472068514307' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1677318472068514307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1677318472068514307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#1677318472068514307' title='Late, summer &apos;08,'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-970940746210937332</id><published>2008-08-17T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T01:55:33.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The bumps on the road will only make me stronger.</title><content type='html'>just a heads up my feelings ar elittle scattered so if you feel like this blog doesn't flow.. you're right. it doesn't ahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So these past few days I have been really thinking about family.  If you're Caroline, you already know this, but I always refer what's going on in my life with the book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tuesdays With Morrie&lt;/span&gt;.  In this book, Professor Morrie teaches his last class, and the topic is LIFE. Under this topic, Morrie talks about family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends come and go, family is forever.  Morrie said family are the most important people in your life.  When you're dying you may have a million friends that visit you, but family will always stand by you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to what I'm going to talk about.  I've been really sad this week.  I love my family and I KNOW my family loves me, but for some reason the type of love they show me isn't enough?  I am not sure if I put it in the right way, but love isn't only about buying things for each other.  There's the emotional part.  It's about creating a personal relationship.  It's a stronger friendship.  Instead of criticizing about what I did wrong, how about advising me how to fix the problem.  I feel like my parents and my brother have been putting me down lately.  Instead of asking me how my day was, my parents' first words are always yelling me about doing something wrong, something i need to do, something they want me to do.  It's never a "Hello, anak.  How was your day? What did you do?"  Saying things like that shows me that they care about me and not just about things I need to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with my brother, ever since he got with his girlfriend, I'd been feeling more neglected than ever.  She's at my house all the damn time.  I don't mind seeing her everyday, but to the point that it feels like she lives here is just ridiculous.  Don't get me wrong I like her a lot, but it's just really annoying that she's here all the time.  She's here when I wake up; she's here when I go to sleep; she's here when I get home from school.  And it's weird because she has a family.  Doesn't it bother her parents that she's not home? Doesn't it bother her siblings that they don't see her sister?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the most I have said to my brother lately was, "Hey can you move the car?"  How sad is that.  I just think he's really occupied in his world, and doesn't have the slightest care for me.  He never calls me to see if I am safe, never calls me to see if I got home  whatever!   Yes, I am jealous that she gets to have all of my brother to herself.  I am not saying that it's her fault, I am just frustrated because it is about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT'S WEIRD.. I feel like I've been replaced!  Today, my mom told me to wake up and to get ready to eat lunch.  I said I couldn't because I have work at 12, and they went on without me, WITH MY BROTHER'S GIRLFRIEND.  Of course I am not going to make them stop from eating, but I was pretty sad because it seemed like it was okay that I wasn't going to be there.  She was there to take my spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend said that hey if he isn't really including you in your life, then don't bother.  I mean yes I know that I shouldn't waste my time on people who don't care about me, but this is my family.  I DO CARE! I want that person to be by me when I'm dying.. I want my brother to be there by me.  I want my brother to care about who I go out with.. I wnat my brother to be protective I want my brother to just be my friend.  I am not saying that he hasn't done things for me, but just lately I just feel like I have no one.   I JUST WANT A BROTHER.  and that's not what i have right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aldskfjalsdkfj;asldkfja;sldkfj I'm done.  There's a lot more to add, but I'm just too annoyed to continue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-970940746210937332?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/970940746210937332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=970940746210937332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/970940746210937332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/970940746210937332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#970940746210937332' title='The bumps on the road will only make me stronger.'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-4500818502352227091</id><published>2008-08-15T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T16:45:49.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bronze Medal</title><content type='html'>"I like the bad boy look, but not the bad boy act."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, how come boys have to be so perverted?  If you want to go out with a girl, not only do you have to impress the girl, but their friends and family too!  On Wednesday, Bronze, my manager's friend who asked me out came to visit me.  Luckily my friends were there as well.   I told him to talk to my friends.  This was a good idea because my friends could get a look see at him: if he was good enough for me to go out with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEY HATED HIM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the minute he walked in, he did not give off a good impression.&lt;br /&gt;He seems like a cool guy to hang out with, but NO.  Absolutely no.  ... a friend said.&lt;br /&gt;They told me what he had said to them.  He asked if they were lesbian JUST because we went to an all girl school.  He talked about having piercings on inappropriate places!  I believe he said that he would have a piercing on his ball sacks, but it would smell.  WTF?&lt;br /&gt;He kept making noises with the chair and he even started swinging the lamps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"BOOOO" Kyla yelled.  Of course right after he left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His name is exactly what he is: Bronze.  He's not great at all.  He's not a silver and definitely not a gold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-4500818502352227091?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/4500818502352227091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=4500818502352227091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/4500818502352227091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/4500818502352227091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#4500818502352227091' title='Bronze Medal'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-6483584896003219421</id><published>2008-08-11T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T01:56:16.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You do something to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;"You do something to me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; something that simply mystifies me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; Tell me, why should it be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; you have the power to hypnotize me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; Let me live 'neath your spell,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; Do do that voodoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; that you do so well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; For you do something to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; that nobody else could do!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you hate it when people can do that to you?   It's a great feeling, but it kills you inside at the same time!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-6483584896003219421?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/6483584896003219421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=6483584896003219421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6483584896003219421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6483584896003219421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#6483584896003219421' title='You do something to me'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-3624528286478018948</id><published>2008-08-09T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T03:10:17.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky Day 08 08 08</title><content type='html'>Today... I mean yesterday was 08 08 08.  It was going to be my lucky day!  And what I had in my mind was considered to be lucky:  to be visited by this "certain someone" at work tonight.  If not that, I was hoping that anything would happen to me like finding money on the floor or getting employee of the month at work (which I hope I get!)  But most of us know that when you think about something too much, like me believing that "this person" was going to visit me, and getting your hopes high, you can get disappointed when things do not go your way.  So I tried really hard not to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long time now, I have had low self esteem, no confidence whatsoever, and I broke down because I felt lonely, ugly, and unimportant.  I'd be lying if I did not say that I am a little envious when I see my best friends with their boyfriends and my brother with his girlfriend.  Basically being surrounded by couples makes it hard to not feel lonely.  It's a reminder of how much I want to be loved and cared for just like them.  I spilled my feelings to a seester and to a cousin searching for some kind of advice or solution to my problem.  All these years I convinced myself that I WAS THE ONE WITH THE PROBLEM.  I told myself I was not good enough.  When I looked in a mirror I saw a hopeless girl who could never get what she wanted and could never imagine someone like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot say that the last line is entirely true, because there have been guys who have been interested in me, who have wanted to take me out, but I never gave them a chance because I was not interested in them.  It was always like that: when I like him, he doesn't like me; when he likes me, I don't like him.  This happened to me all the time.  I'd like a guy so much.  I'd see so much potential in the relationship.  There was chemistry!  But in the end, he only saw me as a friend.  Because he only saw me as a friend, I'd get BUTT HURT about it.  Then I'd start again, automatically pick pointing at all my flaws and start focusing on what I had to do get him to realize that I was the one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My seester and my cousin both told me, "In order to love someone, you have to love yourself first."  I kept that in mind.  I thought about all the things that I loved: music, art, family, friends, singing, harp, dancing, cooking.  I realized that I was a beautiful person all along, and that I didn't need to keep wasting my time worrying about some guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard not to think about someone that you can't have, but eventually when you put those things that you love the most as your priority, things fall into place.  Being confident with yourself and with what you do, I believe, attracts a person.  Being yourself and loving yourself helps others love you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's what I started doing.  I start seeing the beauty that my family and friends have always seen.  And lately I've been obsessing over my harp and actually thinking about playing gigs when I get my repertoire ready.  I'm doing adventurous things and doing what I love to do.  I'm actually not afraid to just start making a conversation with a stranger and it feels great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never in a thousand years, did I ever think I was going to be asked to go out with someone.  Tonight, my lucky night, my manager's friend asked me to go dancing with him one day.  I loved the spontaneity of the whole situation.  As I was cleaning the counter, he leans over and asks, "Do you want to dance?"  I was so caught off guard that I said, "I don't know" and left to go to the back.  I ignored his question and when I came out he asked me again, "Do you want to dance?"  I replied, "Yeah, but not right now; I'm working!" I started cleaning again, and he asks, "What do you not like to dance?" "Oh no I love to dance!" "Why wont you come dance with me; when are you free?" I told him the days I was off; he asked for my number and said he'd call me sometime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe it... never in a thousand years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, I just feel lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHAHAHAHAH WHAT A LAME BLOG.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-3624528286478018948?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/3624528286478018948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=3624528286478018948' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3624528286478018948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/3624528286478018948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#3624528286478018948' title='Lucky Day 08 08 08'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-1955912130864405704</id><published>2008-08-08T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T03:58:21.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes and Lyrics that I love</title><content type='html'>"Some of the greater things in life are unseen thats why you close your eyes when you kiss, cry, or dream..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The very thought of you, and I forget to do&lt;br /&gt;The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do&lt;br /&gt;I see you face in every flower&lt;br /&gt;your eyes in stars above&lt;br /&gt;it's just the thought of you&lt;br /&gt;the very thought of you , my love"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-1955912130864405704?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/1955912130864405704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=1955912130864405704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1955912130864405704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1955912130864405704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#1955912130864405704' title='Quotes and Lyrics that I love'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-845668445041001685</id><published>2008-08-07T02:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T15:29:37.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>uhh not good ahahah</title><content type='html'>this is very very very bad, but im buzz blogging right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT when i see something that I want.. I JUST GOT TO HAVE IT. SERIOUSLY i wish yuohad some kind of clue, damnit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;................., and .. thtas its. ahahah a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;august 8, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;^^^ that's me super gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-845668445041001685?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/845668445041001685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=845668445041001685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/845668445041001685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/845668445041001685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#845668445041001685' title='uhh not good ahahah'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-9050154471114366028</id><published>2008-08-05T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T18:54:28.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>customers</title><content type='html'>You'll never know how a person feels until you're in their shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know. I have never realized how rude customers can be.  I always thought that it were the workers who were the rude ones.  One lady customer was not satisfied with what we were giving her.  She started pick pointing at the things she didn't like what we were doing and putting.  THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE .  WE'RE GIVING YOU WITH WHAT YOU ORDERED AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN WHY DID YOU ORDER IT IN THE FIRST PLACE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another customer really pushed my buttons.  It's unfortunate to know how UNGRATEFUL people can be when someone gives service to them.  I can understand if you don't like our yogurt, but why do you have to give attitude and criticize!  And it sucked cuz this guy's girlfriend even apologized for his actions.  WHAT AN ASSHOLE. :D ahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anybody is reading this.. what are your experiences with customers?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-9050154471114366028?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/9050154471114366028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=9050154471114366028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/9050154471114366028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/9050154471114366028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#9050154471114366028' title='customers'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-6171721946395747540</id><published>2008-08-02T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:46:31.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shit went down tonight</title><content type='html'>Why do people have to be soooooooo prideful?!  Why do people have to call others out by their race?!  Tonight, I went to my friends party.  Everything was fine, until two guys started fighting.   I told my friend that these guys were having a fight in the house.  His solution was to kick them out because he didn't want them to cause any trouble.  Because these kids have so much pride, they call us out by our race.  Overhearing what they said to us, another friend talks back, causing him and those kids to fight.  As my girlfriends and I tried to hold him back, these kids are still talking shit on us "asians."  I ran outside and I find my best friend yelling at one of the girls.  The girl yelling from below says to my friend "fucking bitch then get down here"  Of course because being angry.. I talk to that girl.. and yell to just leave and to stop causing trouble.  Not only do they scream in the middle of the street and try to threaten us, they also throw a bottle at the house.  WTF.  Everyone was told to go into the house.  Luckily my best friend and I were able to leave.  We were scared.  We couldve gotten hit.  We don't know what kind of weapons they had or if they even had any.  Anything could of happened.  all because these people wanted to prove to themselves and others that they are tough that they are better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people like to cause trouble?  Why do people think that fighting makes them tough?  What is the point?   It was so unnecessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know what would be the cause.  Is it because these people and everyone else were intoxicated?  Why does alcohol bring out the worst in people??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why you have a fucking party with the people you know and you trust.  If you're going to hold a huge ass party, you better know what are the consequences first, and you should be ready for trouble and for the cops.  90% of the people at that party were under the influence and many were ticketed for DUI. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEENAGERS ARE STUPID. &lt;br /&gt;we really are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-6171721946395747540?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/6171721946395747540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=6171721946395747540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6171721946395747540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6171721946395747540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#6171721946395747540' title='Shit went down tonight'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-6169208465598419419</id><published>2008-07-31T02:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T03:20:21.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday I realized that TIME is the most precious thing on this earth.  I saw my friends' little siblings all grown up.  I saw a mother of 90+ years outlive her daughter.  I listened to my friends talking about what they have planned for their future.  I hear parents talking about retirement! And I saw a tombstone of a mother that died at a young age and how fast 10 years went by since the last time I saw her.  From these experiences I remembered that TIME IS FAST; it never stops; it keeps going, and you can never go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with the earthquake happening two days ago, it made me think about my life a lot.  If that earthquake was the indication that it was the end of the world, I'd be freaking out!  I'm hearing things like theres going to be a tsunami within 20 years and it's going to turn California into an island, and in 3o years we're supposed to have an earthquake of 6.8.  How scary is that?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess realizing how much little time we have left, we should always live everyday like it's our last.  But how do we do that?  We can't just leave our priorities and do exciting things out of the whim.  So what do we do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HMM what else happened today...I was at work and my manager's friends came.  First impression: UHHH. ahaha but they seemed like cool cats once I started talking to them.  I started making chit chat with one of his friends.  We talked about the main stuff: what school does he go to, what does he want to do with his life.  My manager's friends leave.. and a few mintues a later he asks me what I thought about his friend (the guy i was making chit chat with) and I said, "Yeah he seems like a nice guy.. why?" "Oh because he wanted me to see what you thought about him, and he told me to give you his number"  I said.. "Uhh.. it's okay I can get his number on my own"  ahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i dont trust these guys.. they seem like theyd get me involved in a gang... ahahah jk .. but eh. flattering but ... eeeeeeeeh. ahhaahh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it hard to accept things aren't going to work out?  Why can't I just let go? Why do I always look for the good in something or someone?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o_O&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;to: you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why can't you just get the hint, you idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-6169208465598419419?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/6169208465598419419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=6169208465598419419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6169208465598419419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6169208465598419419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#6169208465598419419' title=''/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-6070034673058702935</id><published>2008-07-24T14:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:51:34.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OH what else do I need to update on</title><content type='html'>Here's a gist of what happened when I went to San Diego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got hit on by the train conductor&lt;br /&gt;I was picked up by Maria Demoret's brother, Michael and friend Will&lt;br /&gt;We watched The Dark Knight&lt;br /&gt;Woke up late, and went to Coronado Central Beach&lt;br /&gt;Went to Poway and met Maria's cousins.&lt;br /&gt;At night we hung out with Ryan Nebreja.&lt;br /&gt;Supposedly he's a legend down there.&lt;br /&gt;Maria, Ryan, and I drove around the city, and finally stopped at The Tea Station.&lt;br /&gt;Went to some guy's house for a party that we didn't even go into.&lt;br /&gt;Maria called someone a crazy bitch and that someone heard her. ahaha&lt;br /&gt;We slept over at her cousin's house that night.&lt;br /&gt;The next day we went to a ski beach.&lt;br /&gt;I SKIIIIED! IT WAS FUN&lt;br /&gt;At night we went to a surprise party.&lt;br /&gt;At that party, Maria and I were mad dogged by some Messycans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the end!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-6070034673058702935?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/6070034673058702935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=6070034673058702935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6070034673058702935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/6070034673058702935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#6070034673058702935' title='OH what else do I need to update on'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-1063397139856387703</id><published>2008-07-24T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T14:25:40.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my husband</title><content type='html'>Last night, I met the love of my life! ahaha He was tall, light, and handsome.  His beard looked glorious, and all I can do was admire and smile at him :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.. his name is Cameron.  And you know how I know that? He payed with a credit card. ahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuh, Im a stalker :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-1063397139856387703?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/1063397139856387703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=1063397139856387703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1063397139856387703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1063397139856387703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#1063397139856387703' title='my husband'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-1754154149994653458</id><published>2008-07-04T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T03:39:05.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Luck</title><content type='html'>So lately I have been really stressed about money.  Every time I gain money, I lose it in a matter of hours because I have to pay for unnecessary things!  Everything that we want to do like drive around, get something to eat, go out with friends, find parking, costs so much money!  And it doesn't help when you don't have a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have returned from the Philippines, I have been applying for jobs.  Considering that I applied to so many places, one would think that I would get a call back from at least ONE store.  Unfortunately, none of the stores have called me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after stressing out so much and complaining about not getting any call backs, who knew that yesterday would be my lucky day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I debated whether I should swim or apply to more jobs; I decided to apply for more jobs.  Yesterday  I decided to wear the Jesus bracelet Trixie gave to me.  Yesterday Nanny wished me good luck.  And yesterday I became the new employee of CeFiora, an Italian gelato store in Downtown Fullerton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped into the store and waited my turn to be assisted.  I asked the man working if they were hiring.  He said, "I'm sorry we're not.  We have so many applicants."  With disappointment I said, "Oh, okay."  "BUT...," he said, "they are all friends of the employees.  The reason why I wouldn't want to hire them is because if they work together they wont work; they'll just fool around."  As my eyes beamed with hope he continued, "Are you friends with anyone here?" "Oh no no no," I replied.  "Okay good.  Do you go to school?" "Yeah I start this fall at CSUF." "Perfect because I think we might one more position.  Can you start training on Monday?"  "YES!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if God heard me the night before, but he definitely answered my prayers. :) ahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D lame story ahahahah, but hey, I AM HAPPY&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-1754154149994653458?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/1754154149994653458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=1754154149994653458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1754154149994653458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/1754154149994653458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#1754154149994653458' title='Good Luck'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6417925342152589000.post-7796634738816114372</id><published>2008-06-25T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T19:01:56.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello</title><content type='html'>This is new!  It's funny how every time I am bored out of my mind, I create a new account for something.  What do you think are fun things to do over summer.  Try to keep in mind that the activity should cost little money.  :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6417925342152589000-7796634738816114372?l=jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/feeds/7796634738816114372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6417925342152589000&amp;postID=7796634738816114372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7796634738816114372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6417925342152589000/posts/default/7796634738816114372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jaclynflorescio.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#7796634738816114372' title='Hello'/><author><name>Jaclyn Rose</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ghDMV17-jZI/SugVMlc28bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LRWDW-qX8kM/S220/2433351332_de14495086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
