<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 07 Nov 2009 03:32:24 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>CLAIRE...BY HEART</title><description>For every heart without a home, for those who've lost their dreams but keep dreaming, anyway; for the ones who have risen above adversity and for those in the field of Science and Healthcare. Most of all, this is for the WALKING WOUNDED....</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-8627094866035424777</guid><pubDate>Thu, 04 Dec 2008 03:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-03T19:52:46.824-08:00</atom:updated><title>PLAY BLOG TAG: 7 INTERESTING THINGS</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I have been tagged by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://thehazeyq.bravejournal.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span class="pn_std"&gt;Hazel Quinn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; and this is long overdue! I hope you can forgive me, Haze!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The rules:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random and some weird. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog or email them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;1.) I have a tiny scar on the tip of my nose. My one remembrance from a bout with Chicken Pox as a toddler (so my late Mom told me).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;2.) My Dad nicknamed me CLING-CLING (the sound of bells) because I was baptized on Christmas Day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;3.) As a child, I joined the English Dramatics Club and joined a school Musical where I had to sing my dialogues several times (of course, since it's a Musical, ha ha ha). It had been called the Sampaguita Vendors. I was invited (along with other cast members to join the PETA in Manila) by our DRAMA instructors (who were PETA members) but, my parents didn't want me living far from them. :(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;4.) This is embarrassing for me, and I don't mean to boast, but I only spent one schoolyear  to finish both Grades 5 and 6.  I belonged to an "accelerated class" and we were all accelerated from Grades 4 to 5 and then again, from Grades 5 to 6. It was a nice experience, but no fun at all-- not when you're already taking High School subjects even when you're only in Grade School.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;5.) I was a huge fan of Charlie's Angels (the old tv series which starred Kate Jackson, Jaclyn Smith, and Farrah Fawcett who was later replaced by Cheryl Ladd) so much that I wanted to be a detective when I grew up, ha ha ha. Then came QUINCY (Medical Examiner) and then I also wanted to be a Medical Examiner, hee hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;6.) I am scared of heights. I can take the escalator going up but I have trouble using it going down. I dunno. I hate having to look down at times, ha ha ha. But, I sure have been working to face this fear and deal with it. So far, I've been making progress.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;7.) I may be in my late 30's now, but I'm still a child-at-heart. I'm the Resident Clown of my family and my workplace, ha ha ha. Well, laughter is always the best medicine and it does make you feel younger:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;" class="dtxt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tagging:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://prettyfabulous.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;junelle&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://kutsownstyle.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;Mharms&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://darlyngemwords.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;darlyn&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://www.luongtrungkien.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;kien&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://simplythings.co.cc/how-to-choose-a-pearl-necklace-for-your-wedding-day/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;Simply things&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://my-crossroad.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;race&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://marites1034.bravejournal.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;marites&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://prettyfabulous.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-8627094866035424777?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/12/play-blog-tag-7-interesting-things.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-1230207400885614858</guid><pubDate>Sat, 25 Oct 2008 02:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-10-24T19:20:19.876-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Sleepless Nights</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>zombie</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>lab work</category><title>Sleepless Me</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can't believe my last post here was way back in September. My gosh. I hadn't realized Lab work could be so consuming. Well, add to that the fact that I'm doing two jobs at the same time -- both in clinic and hospital settings. It's just a matter of creating balance, and of course, catching up on sleep when I can, LOL. Since I've mostly been assigned the "graveyard shifts" or the 10 PM to 7 AM duties, I'm afraid that I haven't been able to sleep well and I can't even catch a few winks so that the day after a graveyard shift, I end up feeling like a zombie, ha ha ha. Aside from Lab work, nothing much has really been happening to me. Except for the fact that I just turned a year older last week. Oh, well, Happy Birthday to me:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-1230207400885614858?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/10/sleepless-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-6346970846431087650</guid><pubDate>Wed, 24 Sep 2008 02:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-10-25T22:32:50.701-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Urinalysis</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Hospital Laboratory</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Parasitology</category><title>Back from my 16-Hour Duty (URI-PARA)</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hello! It feels like forever since I've last been here. Things are well and good for me with regards to my Hospital Laboratory training. Before anything else, I would like to make special mention of all my Med Tech friends at the Medical Mission Group of Hospitals who have been most welcoming, accomodating, and very, very friendly -- first of all, Thanks to my former classmate-now-acting-HR-officer, Liezl G-L. Now, for the best part, HELLO to Jinky, Grace, Jay, Mars, Malla, Elvie, Denise, and Rhodora who all tolerate my antics and sometimes corny jokes. Well, at least, there's never a dull moment when we're all laughing and being silly, right? Good luck also to Elvin who's soon to leave for work in Saudi Arabia. Hey, Elvin, CHOCOLATES, CHOCOLATES, CHOCOLATES, hee hee hee. Okay, now that I've just about mentioned everyone here (I hope I didn't forget anyone) it's now time to talk about my 16-hour duty yesterday. Well, it was nothing special. Just the usual -- I was BUSY examining Urine and Stool samples all of last night and very early this morning. I dunno why, but everytime I'm assigned at the Uri-Para section, I get loaded with lots of urine and fecal samples. "Yuck!" you might say, but, hey, it's our job as Medical Technologists to analyze urine and fecal material to aid doctors in diagnosing what could possibly be wrong with you. Besides, it's not like we, Med Techs literally touch the fecal samples we analyze. YAWN! Oh, well, I guess, I better catch a few winks now. I'm sleepy. To all my blogger-friends who have been visiting my blog now and then, thanks. I've just been too busy to post entries as much as I would have liked to. But, I hope to remedy the situation very soon:) SEE YAH!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-6346970846431087650?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/09/back-from-my-16-hour-duty-uri-para.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-3058816128383222951</guid><pubDate>Sun, 14 Sep 2008 01:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-09-13T18:43:54.506-07:00</atom:updated><title>IT'S BEEN A WHILE</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It seems like an eternity has passed since I've last posted an entry here. Let me remedy the situation today, then. For the last few weeks, I'd been busy doing some freelance writing and editing for a couple of Training Manuals. Then, I finally went back to Hospital Laboratory Training last Sept. 8. Apart from the usual blood specimen collections and Clinical Miscroscopy, I've had to deal with the possibility of taking ABG (Arterial Blood Gas) samples (from the wrist (radial) or the arm (brachial) -- something I have never done before in my entire Med Tech career/life. It's not really a Med Tech's job to take ABG samples since it's assigned to the Pulmonary staff/Respiratory Therapists, but for some reason, in this hospital where I am currently training in, Med Techs are assigned to take ABG samples. Well, I guess that means I simply have to face my fear and hope that I make a good job of it. Like they all say, it's only hard at the beginning. I sure hope so.  So, help me, God:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-3058816128383222951?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-been-while.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-6403350179626367605</guid><pubDate>Sun, 24 Aug 2008 01:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-23T19:04:03.980-07:00</atom:updated><title>To All the MEDICAL TECHNOLOGISTS Out There</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To my friends in the Medical Laboratory Profession:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Emie Romero, MIM, MBA, MT(ASCP), CLS (NCA), Senior Consultant of International Networking and Research Consultants (INRC/Arizona, USA) will be coming to the Manila on September 13, 2008 (Saturday) to meet Medical Technologists interested in knowing more about the status of MT careers in the USA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last I heard was that the meeting place will be at the lobby of the Hyatt Hotel in Malate. I will contact Ms. Romero to find out if there haven't been any changes made as to the date and meeting place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those interested to get in touch with Ms. Emie Romero may send me an email: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:mclairesien1019@yahoo.com"&gt;clairesien1019@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck, guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Claire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-6403350179626367605?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/08/to-all-medical-technologists-out-there.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-8319549217317312384</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Aug 2008 03:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-09T20:23:49.962-07:00</atom:updated><title>The Power of Prayer</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This is a Prayer for the MV Princess of the Stars fatalities and survivors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's devastating to think that hundreds of bodies still haven't been recovered from that ill-fated sea vessel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you &lt;a href="http://my-crossroad.com/" rel="nofollow"&gt;race&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://marites1034.bravejournal.com/" rel="nofollow"&gt;Marites&lt;/a&gt; for this tag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~Start Copy:&lt;br /&gt;Prayer for the MV Princess of the stars fatalities and survivors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God, we pray that you comfort each bereaved family everyday as they grieved for their loss, we pray that you will supply all their needs, we pray for the survivors that they may have good lives after the tragedy, that you will bless them and let them know in the deepest part of their heart that in spite of what have happened, you LOVE and CARE for them. This we pray in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen. I encourage everyone to keep the prayer going. LET’S P.U.S.H. (PRAY UNTIL SOMETHING HAPPENS).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We Prayed: 1. &lt;a href="http://raua.blogspot.com/"&gt;Through The Rain&lt;/a&gt; 2. &lt;a href="http://rudolfraquel.blogspot.com/"&gt;God’s gift&lt;/a&gt; 3. &lt;a href="http://denjing.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Adventures of Dong and Jing&lt;/a&gt; 4. &lt;a href="http://reejane.blogspot.com/"&gt;Me, Myself and I&lt;/a&gt; 5. &lt;a href="http://malditangbunso.blogspot.com/"&gt;malditang bunso’s journal&lt;/a&gt; 6. &lt;a href="http://takkijen.com/"&gt;Underneath It All&lt;/a&gt; 7. &lt;a href="http://www.100percentkelly.com/"&gt;100% Kelly&lt;/a&gt; 8. &lt;a href="http://michmagbag.com/"&gt;My Colorful World&lt;/a&gt; 9.&lt;a href="http://inkbabystudios.com/"&gt;InkBabyStudios&lt;/a&gt; 10. &lt;a href="http://thesaladcaper.com/"&gt;TheSaladCaper&lt;/a&gt; 12. &lt;a href="http://www.mbaviso.com/aggie"&gt;MommyTalks&lt;/a&gt; 13. &lt;a href="http://purplecolourz.com/"&gt;All About the Memories&lt;/a&gt; 14. &lt;a href="http://www.enchantedplay.us/"&gt;Enchanted Play&lt;/a&gt; 15. &lt;a href="http://www.divamomsradio.com/"&gt;I Am Mommy&lt;/a&gt; 16. &lt;a href="http://myblog.joyreyes.com/"&gt;MY Happy Place&lt;/a&gt; 17. &lt;a href="http://iamdzoi.com/"&gt;IamDzoi&lt;/a&gt; 18. &lt;a href="http://cliktrik.com/"&gt;ClikTrik&lt;/a&gt; 19. &lt;a href="http://ilovethethirties.com/"&gt;I Love the Thirties&lt;/a&gt; 20. &lt;a href="http://traveltomanila.net/"&gt;Explore Manila&lt;/a&gt; 21. &lt;a href="http://alphadf.com/"&gt;Because Life Is Fun&lt;/a&gt; 22. &lt;a href="http://alphadf.11penguin.net/"&gt;All Things Me&lt;/a&gt; 23. &lt;a href="http://suburbanbeats.net/"&gt;Just What I Always Wanted&lt;/a&gt; 24. &lt;a href="http://jennyscorner.bravejournal.com/"&gt;Simply Jen&lt;/a&gt; 25. &lt;a href="http://jennys-corner.com/"&gt;A Slice of Life &lt;/a&gt;26. &lt;a href="http://thisandthat-online.com/"&gt;This and That &lt;/a&gt;27. &lt;a href="http://jennysaidso.com/"&gt;Jenny Said So&lt;/a&gt; 28. &lt;a href="http://www.racecorner.bravejournal.com/"&gt;Race Corner&lt;/a&gt; 29. &lt;a href="http://www.racelsite.bravejournal.com/"&gt;A Beautiful Life&lt;/a&gt; 30. &lt;a href="http://racelyn.com/"&gt;Moments of My Life&lt;/a&gt; 31. &lt;a href="http://my-crossroad.com/"&gt;My Crossroads&lt;/a&gt; 32. &lt;a href="http://cheesecakepoi.bravejournal.com/"&gt;Watchamacallit!&lt;/a&gt; 33. &lt;a href="http://prettyfabulous.blogspot.com/"&gt;Nellypie's Chatterbox&lt;/a&gt; 34. &lt;a href="http://marites1034.bravejournal.com/"&gt;Pinay heart wanderings and musings&lt;/a&gt; 35. &lt;a href="http://pinaylighterside.blogspot.com/"&gt;Me, the islands and the world&lt;/a&gt; 36.&lt;a href="http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/"&gt;CLAIRE...BY HEART&lt;/a&gt; 37.&lt;a href="http://csi_pinay.bravejournal.com/"&gt;SLIDES&lt;/a&gt; 38. YOUR BLOG HERE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tagging &lt;a href="http://otwarte.info/" target="_blank"&gt;Jan&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://marlysefcik.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;marly&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://hr2060.com/" target="_blank"&gt;ambica&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-8319549217317312384?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/08/power-of-prayer.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-2293646864661719639</guid><pubDate>Thu, 07 Aug 2008 09:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-07T03:17:32.833-07:00</atom:updated><title>SPIRITUAL DARKNESS</title><description>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/NETFUS%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/01/clip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face 	{font-family:"Bradley Hand ITC"; 	panose-1:3 7 4 2 5 3 2 3 2 3; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:script; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/NETFUS%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/01/clip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face 	{font-family:"Bradley Hand ITC"; 	panose-1:3 7 4 2 5 3 2 3 2 3; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:script; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/NETFUS%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/01/clip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face 	{font-family:"Bradley Hand ITC"; 	panose-1:3 7 4 2 5 3 2 3 2 3; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:script; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;I would like to take this opportunity to say my sincerest THANKS to Hazel and Eunice for the kind comments they left on my previous blog entry. I truly appreciate it very much, guys:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm making no secret that for the last three years or so, I've been struggling with the longest Spiritually-dry period of my life. My soul keeps thirsting for that connection, that invisible yet strong bond, and that all-consuming love that can only be found in the Lord. I, however, know that God does allow Spiritual Darkness to happen even to the best of us so that we may all learn to seek Him all the more and not just draw close to Him when all is well in our lives. I have been through a lifetime's share of trials and pains but somehow, I survived the storms. But, I only have to look at myself now, after all of these years, to know that God still loved me enough to have seen me through all the plethora of trials and tribulations. Just as I know that at the end of this very dark tunnel, a ray of light will shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take inspiration from Mother Teresa who had gone through many years of Spiritual Darkness and yet still shone God's light and love for the poorest of the poor.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-2293646864661719639?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/08/spiritual-darkness.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-2082850801126919480</guid><pubDate>Sun, 03 Aug 2008 01:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-02T19:05:30.627-07:00</atom:updated><title>Depressed</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lately, I haven't been posting as much as I would have liked to. Things haven't been going well in my life lately and I've simply been going through the motions. Like I'm just sleepwalking through life or something. It's depressing. I never thought I'd find myself in despair again, but this is something I need to face. I can only hope that I'd be strong enough to deal with this. If I hope in God, I'd come out of this a better person. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will resume posting soon....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-2082850801126919480?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/08/depressed.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-3096524610928542095</guid><pubDate>Sun, 20 Jul 2008 04:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-19T22:05:57.440-07:00</atom:updated><title>TAG OF FOUR</title><description>I would like to thank &lt;a href="http://kutsownstyle.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Mhar&lt;/a&gt; for sending me the tag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instructions: What you are supposed to do...and please don't spoil the fun...Clickcopy/paste, type in your answers and tag four people in your lists!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(A) Four places I go over and over: Internet cafe, Clinic, My Aunt Vangie's place, Verdebarr at G. Mall&lt;br /&gt;(B) Four people who e-mail me regularly: Jepoy, Laura, Joanne, Marites&lt;br /&gt;(C) Four of my favorite places to eat? At home, De Bonte Koe, Verdebarr, Port Cafe&lt;br /&gt;(D) Four places you'd rather be? Maryland, USA; Dubai, UAE; Germany; Canada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(E) Four people I think will respond: Tes, Vicy, CoiCoi, Junelle&lt;br /&gt;(F) Four TV shows I could watch over and over: CSI Miami/NY/Las Vegas, Without A Trace, Forensic Files, and Just for Laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tagging: &lt;a href="http://pinaylighterside.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;marites&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.vicy-lifeisdifficult.blogspot.com/" rel="nofollow"&gt;vicy&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://colocoicoi.blogspot.com//" target="_blank"&gt;CoiCoi&lt;/a&gt;, , and &lt;a href="http://cheesecakepoi.bravejournal.com/" target="_blank"&gt;junelle&lt;/a&gt;....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-3096524610928542095?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/07/tag-of-four.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-3728503605069737738</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 Jul 2008 01:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-07T21:21:39.636-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Hope</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Despair</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Shine All Your Light</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Amy Grant</category><title>Out of the Darkness</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The last few weeks have been very difficult for me. I couldn't even come up with a decent post. I mean, there I was, trying to revive this blog and hopefully use it for the purpose I created it for in the first place and yet, my heart was drowning in despair and tears. How could I shine a light for the weary and the brokenhearted if I myself was wallowing in dark despair? I could just be another blogger on a blogging site, writing whatever came to mind and be as prolific a writer as I once had been in my teens. Oh, sure, back then I wrote a lot of those teeny love stories that often sent my friends soaring on Cloud 9 and while that won't be so hard to do again, I now find that I would want to do something else. Something that would reach out and touch another person; bring a smile to a hurting soul; and make others feel better about themselves somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Over the last few weeks when I struggled with sadness, frustration, and self-pity, I wondered how on earth I could have forgotten what I realized long ago. That pain does teach what pleasure misses. If there's one thing I learned about having gone through pain and witnessing so much suffering for years, it is that pain has not only made me stronger, but it also helped me become more compassionate and sensitive to the pains of others. Oh, what healing there really can be from reaching out to others who are hurting even if we are actually hurting, too! I may not have much in this life, but I hope that in my own way, I can shine a light for others. I'd like to share with you this beautiful song I first heard from the soundtrack of the tv show TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL. It's called SHINE ALL YOUR LIGHT by Amy Grant.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ziKAjhnIxqY&amp;amp;hl=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" fs="1" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you: Jeff (for loving me), Laura (for the gift of her friendship), &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://marites1034.bravejournal.com/" title="View Web Journal"&gt;@--&gt;--Marites R&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; (my friend and former tennis partner: for making me laugh),  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://kellys-corner.bravejournal.com/" title="View Web Journal"&gt;Kelly&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; (for encouraging me even when she's actually hurting, too), and to my other blogger-friends who didn't exactly know why I was depressed but offered encouragement, anyway -- &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://ourpixlesite.bravehost.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;Joseph-Director&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; (my young blogger-friend who offered to listen),&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" rel="nofollow" href="http://bahaykubo.bravejournal.com/"&gt; @kim&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;and all the rest (you know who you are). Oh, special thanks to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://hazelquinn.bravejournal.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt; Hazel Quinn&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; (for checking on me now and then). Thanks, everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-3728503605069737738?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/07/out-of-darkness.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-1298025955123141704</guid><pubDate>Sun, 29 Jun 2008 03:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-29T20:52:32.604-07:00</atom:updated><title>ANIMA CHRISTI</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm going through a difficult time in my life and I don't deny that I'm finding it hard to believe in a lot of things right now. But, I take comfort in knowing that no matter what happens, there's always the love that never fades, never ends, and is so unconditional it's a love like no other. The love of God. The song ANIMA CHRISTI always makes me cry, but in a way it is very comforting and I am finding so much inspiration from it I can't help but post it here. I hope this song may also bring healing to others who are hurting right now. The love of God is always true and unconditional. Just because we can't see it, it doesn't mean it's not there. May we find strength in His love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uq7pztBU_rs&amp;amp;hl=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I found this video by "mhcaillesrn" at YouTube&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-1298025955123141704?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/06/anima-christi.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-6282893362623171886</guid><pubDate>Tue, 24 Jun 2008 02:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-24T03:38:18.255-07:00</atom:updated><title>THE SAMPAGUITA CHRONICLES : The Jasmine Meets the Poppy</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;I wrote this a while back and I am re-posting it here to "freshen" it up somehow in my desire to turn it into a series of short stories. Well, I can dream, can't I? Ha ha ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;About the Sampaguita: it is the national flower of my country, the Philippines, so I used it here to symbolize where I come from. The Sampaguita is a dainty, white, little flower that belongs to the Jasmine family. It's sometimes called the "Philippine Jasmine". It looks ordinary, but when it blooms, it fills the air with a fragrance so sweet it's captivating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"The Jasmine Meets the Poppy" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" align="center"&gt;written by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Claire Louise&lt;/span&gt; in celebration of her friendship with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laura Lynn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Copyright ©2008 C. L. Sienes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Some flowers grow best in the sun; others do well in the shade. God always puts us where we grow best and gives us good people to grow with"&lt;/span&gt;. -Anonymous/from SMS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;One fine day in November, Laura, the Golden Poppy was busy sunning herself on the deck of a balcony in one of the small, cozy apartment units in downtown San Diego, CA. The sun was shining gloriously and Laura, ever the sun-worshipper, couldn't help but bask in its warmth, her leaves sticking out from her sides like little arms stretching upwards to the heavens and her delicately beautiful golden petals opening in full bloom as if to meet the sun's kiss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh, how she loved the sun! She thought, reaching for the book she had earlier taken out to the balcony with her and finding it, she lay back and began to catch up on her reading. What could be more relaxing than reading on a beautiful day like today? And having a day spent just for herself, on a day like today, what more could she ask for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Maybe some peace and quiet!" She muttered under her breath as a loud crash came directly on the wooden floor of her deck, startling her out of her reverie. Jerking upright, she moved to see what the crash was all about, her hazel eyes taking in the mess made of soil and what looked like remnants of a clay pot scattered about what was only moments ago a spotless wooden floor. Now, it looked as though a tornado had just passed through her balcony!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well," she sighed in dismay, "I guess some good things just never last." Placing a hand on each side of her waist, she raised her face skyward and closed her eyes to compose herself. Then, she moved to survey the mess, wondering what the green-and-white leafy thing that lay among the scattered soil and clay pot fragments was. It looked like a plant. A vine. Was it still breathing? She wondered, and just as she was about to bend over it to see if it was still alive, it stirred and out in the open came a dainty, little while flower dangling from a long, leafy stem that was currently suspended in mid-air and looked as if it came from the balcony directly above hers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was obviously another flower just like her. Except that she had never seen anything like it before and the "it" was now staring at her and wearing the exact expression Laura was wearing on her face---a mixture of pleasant surprise and bewilderment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Oh, hi!" The little while flower sheepishly smiled and the way it reached a hand to scratch its head in embarrassment looked so comical Laura's lips curled into a smile. "Sorry, I crashed..." it was saying and the voice that came out was small and carried a slight accent that was unfamiliar and told Laura that it wasn't from anywhere in San Diego or anywhere in the entire U.S. of A."...onto your deck like this," the little flower continued, its voice shaking nervously as did its tiny, fragile petals, Laura observed. "A crazy cat and a pesky mouse were doing the Tom and Jerry thing..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Tom and Jerry thing? Ah, the cat and mouse chase, Laura mused, suddenly feeling herself bubbling inside with laughter. "So you ended up doing the Tarzan thing," she giggled, gesturing at the way the tiny flower's long stem was still swaying back and forth in the air like a pendulum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Swinging from a vine, you mean?" The little flower's voice was cute and childlike. "Well, sort of. Except that my name isn't Tarzan and I'm a girl like you," she paused this way and that way, as if to show it had feminine features like Laura did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You're very funny."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"So, I've been told."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Do you have a name?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Sure do." It finally stopped swinging from side to side in the air to Laura's relief. She was beginning to get dizzy from having tolook at her new-found friend as if she was watching a tennis match. "I'm Claire."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"And I'm Laura and I am so pleased to meet you," she said sincerely to the delight of the little flower named Claire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"So am I," Claire murmured, taking the hand Laura extended for a warm handshake as if to seal their new-found friendship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"So, what are you, Claire?" Laura casually leaned against the balcony railing, eyeing Claire with open interest. "I mean, I know you're a flower, but, what kind are you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"A Sampaguita."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Pardon me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Sam-pah-guee-tah," Claire dared Laura to repeat after her and actually found Laura's failed attempts to properly pronounce the word very amusing and it was kind of cute, to hear the word roll off Laura's tongue like some sort of tongue-twister. "Oh, never mind. I'm what they call a Philippine Jasmine. And you are?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The Golden Poppy of California." It seemed fitting, Claire thought, watching the sunlight stream down as if to embrace Laura and when Laura's golden petals bloomed toluxuriate in the sun's warmth, it was then that Claire realized she'd never seen anything quite like her. Laura was golden and beautiful. And she, Claire, felt plain and simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Lost your tongue?" Laura's laughing voice broke through Claire's thoughts. "How'd you end up here all the way from the Philippines, Claire?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;How indeed? "I dunno. It's just that often, the 'Great Gardener' simply has plans for each one of us on this bed of earth we're in and maybe He wanted me to be here for a reason."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laura wondered what that statement meant. Day and night, she pondered the thought, looking for answers but there seemed to be none. Little did she know that she didn't need to look far for the answers because the answer was going to find her--it did find her one fateful night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;She'd been out on the balcony that night, a solitary figure gazing up at the dark and starless evening sky. Even the moon was hiding, she sighed, feeling as dark and empty as the night skies. She had never felt so alone and so cold in her entire life as she did now, her petals closing as she shivered against the chilly night breeze. A slight movement from the corner of her eye and a faint rustling sound seemingly coming from above alerted her senses to another presence but it no longer startled her at all. She didn't need to turn her head to know who it was. She just knew. It was like the beautiful friendship that had grown over the years had enabled her to tell exactly when her Jasmine friend would come to see her. Or HOW. For who else but Claire would literally "drop" by to pay her a visit?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;And drop Claire did from the balcony above. Like a thrill-seeker executing a death-defying bungee jump, Claire, the Jasmine vine dropped as far below as she could get before bouncing and coiling like a spring until she was directly at eye level with Laura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Nice dive," Laura murmured dryly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Think I'd make a great stunt double for Angelina Jolie?" Claire quipped, swinging wildly from one side to the other in a bid to get her friend's attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;To no avail. Laura only kept staring into blank space. "You should try sky-diving," was all she said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;What could be wrong? Claire wondered. But she was no fool. She never missed the tinge of pain in her friend's voice and it was all she needed to know that something was terribly wrong somewhere and THAT something was hurting her friend so much. Maybe she ought to try harder to make her smile, she decided, "Hey, Goldie!" In time, she'd taken to fondly calling Laura that nickname."Look, no hands! No hands!" She swung crazily from side to side in one last, desperate attempt to get a reaction from the Golden Poppy she'd grown to think of not justas a friend but also a long-lost sister. It didn't work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Guess, I can't make you smile, huh?" She pressed further, this time peering into Laura's misty eyes and seeing the pain lurking in those hazel depths.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laura finally looked at Claire. "Is that why you came? To make me smile?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, I was out on the balcony and the night wind whispered that a heart was breaking somewhere.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;That was all it took for the tears to come spilling down Laura's cheeks. "Oh, Claire.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Care to talk about it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laura stared at her friend for a moment and sighed, "I feel so bad," she paused to breathe deeply, sorrow written all over her tear-stained face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Because I'm bad." Laura's head dropped into her hands. "At least, I think I am...because, I did something I shouldn't have."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Like what?" Claire asked softly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Like wanting to be where I'm not supposed to be."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Claire glided over to where her friend stood &amp;amp; placed a comforting hand on Laura's shoulder. "And where might that be, hmmm?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Where the tulips are." Laura whispered brokenly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Ah." Claire remembered that not too long ago, a gorgeous tulip fell from the topmost balcony and landed on Laura's deck just as Laura was teaching Claire how to play poker.:) The tulip said it got separated from the others inside a box a man had delivered to one of the units in the apartment building. It was a Dutch Tulip and it fast became their friend, hers and Laura's. Except that the tulip had more in common with Laura, the Golden Poppy because Claire was a vine and was often busy attending to other matters she couldn't spend as much time with Laura no matter how much she wanted to. So it came to pass that the tulip and Laura hit it off so well as friends so that when the time came for the tulip to leave, Laura was deeply saddened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"But, you never did go to where the tulips are."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"It would've been so wrong."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The 'Great Gardener' had made it clear, plain, and simple to all of the flowers He had nurtured: that no flower of His could leave the very bed of earth He'd each planted them into. Every flower knew that. Laura, the Golden Poppy &amp;amp; Claire, the Jasmine knew that. As did the tulip and all the other flowers in the great garden.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why are you torturing yourself this way?" The Jasmine asked the Golden Poppy. "Thinking that you must surely be the baddest flower ever on this bed of earth?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Because I am."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"No, you're not".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Yes, I am."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Claire, the Jasmine shook her head to show that she didn't agree to that line of thinking at all. "Simply for wanting to be where thetulips are?" Claire asked quietly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laura dropped her gaze to the floor. "Okay, so I didn't go but still, the fact that I wanted to...well, that sounds wrong, too."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You know, Goldie," Claire reached out a hand to brush a solitary tear that had fallen down Laura's cheek. "If you really were as bad as you think you are, you would have gone ahead to do as you very well pleased without stopping to think if it was wrong."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"But.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Ssshhh," Claire placed a finger between Laura's lips to silence her. "You knew it wasn't right and that's why you didn't do it. That doesn't make you evil at all." Claire beamed at her friend and Laura felt the full impact of that smile, making Laura feel as if all the stars in heaven had just been lit up to fill the dark, gloomy skies with light. "Remember when I said it isn't always easy to do the right thing?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Of, course."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You had chosen to do the right thing even when you knew it was going to hurt so much...and all in obedience to the 'Great Gardener'who knows that."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Think He'll understand?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Claire nodded with a smile. Overwhelmed with thankfulness and gratitude for the kind of friend and friendship she'd been blessed with, Laura wrapped her arms around Claire in a warm embrace. "Thank you for being my friend, Claire."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Aack! Goldie, I can't breathe!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Ooops, sorry," Laura stepped back and eyed her little friend whose friendship had come to mean so much to her over the years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I might never know what it's like to be where the tulips are..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I know," Claire said. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JUST AS I'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE HAD EVERY GOAL I HAD LONG AGO BEEN FULFILLED. OR WHERE THOSE DREAMS WOULD HAVE TAKEN ME. BUT, NOW, I DON'T THINK I'D STILL WANT TO KNOW. NOT WHEN I'VE DISCOVERED WHAT'S MORE IMPORTANT IN THIS LIFE....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Claire thought to herself but instead said, "But, for all we know, the 'Great Gardener' may only have spared you from further hurt or even suffering...or worse if you had to live in wintry weather where only Dutch Tulips survive, not Poppies and Jasmines like you and me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Just as tulips wouldn't be able to survive being baked by the heat of the sun out in the open, Laura realized. Now, everything made perfect sense. True, it may hurt to think she's leaving everything she thought defined HER but she knows now, more than ever, that it will not hurt this way for always. There'll still be better days. And maybe life may not be perfect and there'd be rain every now and then. Laura threw a sideways glance at her good friend, Claire, and found herself thinking that life would be anything but dull. Not with her Jasmine friend around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Hey, Claire!" She called to the little white flower. "Do you think you can teach me how you vines swing in mid-air?" She said laughingly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Claire considered it for a moment. "Okay...but only if you let me beat you just once in a game of poker!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laura laughed. Claire laughed. And from then on, Laura, the Golden Poppy and Claire, the Sampaguita, saw each other through all kinds of weather. The way only true friends can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;---T H E --- E N D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;---&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-6282893362623171886?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/06/sampaguita-chronicles.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-2978458273954631241</guid><pubDate>Sun, 22 Jun 2008 01:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-10T03:59:38.316-08:00</atom:updated><title>PHOTOGRAPHS</title><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21r02xIFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/enorI-wqorw/s1600-h/Mama+on+her+wedding+day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214523708092260434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21r02xIFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/enorI-wqorw/s320/Mama+on+her+wedding+day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;MAMA ON HER WEDDING DAY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21ty_8kiI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rDvCfUkx6C0/s1600-h/Mama,+the+Bride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214523741953626658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21ty_8kiI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rDvCfUkx6C0/s320/Mama,+the+Bride.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MAMA, THE BRIDE &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21uNMLvaI/AAAAAAAAAAk/kiKewzO26fw/s1600-h/ME+on+my+Mama"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214523748984274338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21uNMLvaI/AAAAAAAAAAk/kiKewzO26fw/s320/ME+on+my+Mama%27s+lap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ME ...ON MY MAMA's LAP &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21uPdf4dI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Z-U6gQw-Nog/s1600-h/The+Last+Time+Mama+and+I+were+captured+on+camera+together.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214523749593768402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21uPdf4dI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Z-U6gQw-Nog/s320/The+Last+Time+Mama+and+I+were+captured+on+camera+together.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE LAST TIME MAMA and I WERE CAPTURED ON CAMERA&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;( Yes, that's 11 year-old me during my graduation from Grade School. Three years later, Mama was diagnosed with ALS and had to spend 8 years on a wheelchair until her eventual death in 1992). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In remembrance of my late Mama's birthday today, the 21st of June, I am posting some of her old photographs here. My Mama and I never had so many chances to pose together for the camera, and while she did have other photographs taken during the later years of her life, I have chosen to post these photos here if only to remember her smiles and the beauty that she really was before her illness (ALS) took them all away along with her breath. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wherever you are, Mama, I know you're still watching over me. I hope you don't mind my putting your photos here, but I thought it best to remember you in the pink of health than post photos showing you looking so skinny and pale as you sat on your wheelchair.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And, these are all I'll ever have of you now...along with the memories. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy Birthday, Mama!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-2978458273954631241?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/06/photographs.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r1PYpHu2RBQ/SF21r02xIFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/enorI-wqorw/s72-c/Mama+on+her+wedding+day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-821587039282265815</guid><pubDate>Wed, 04 Jun 2008 10:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-04T03:16:24.359-07:00</atom:updated><title>It's Great To Be Back</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's been a while since I've updated this blog, so I thought I'd finally find time to do something and bring this blog back to life. For starters, this blog will have changes. Actually, when I first created this blog, it was supposed to follow a THEME and would mainly talk about things that move the heart into feeling. I guess, I haven't been able to do that. Well, that's about to change very soon. I'd been very busy with my applications here, there, and everywhere for the chance to finally work abroad in my field of Scientific discipline. Add to that the freelance writing/editing gigs I'd gotten into. I just finished an editing project for a Drum Therapist/Ventriloquist/Author and now, I've been offered a Technical Writing project. When will I ever have time to update my BLOGSPOT, then? As soon as I'm done with my new project, ha ha ha. It shouldn't take long. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the meantime, I mean for this blog to have a heart. It's about time:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-821587039282265815?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-great-to-be-back.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-7027123940055545510</guid><pubDate>Sun, 03 Feb 2008 03:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-02T19:22:41.650-08:00</atom:updated><title>The Healing Presence of a Shadow</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I think I went a little crazy over Shakespeare's sonnets when I wrote this one back in college. My classmate and friend, Luci Grace(God rest her soul), showed this to our English Professor who then gladly provided the title for this(many thanks, Mr. Ed Fernandez).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That moment in time when clouds do take&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;away the golden rays that stretch beyond&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;to meet the outstretched hand quivering&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;shaking in the quest for warmth&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that time of year most thoughts of Thee occur&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;long before Thou had come the cold arms&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;of emptiness embraced me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tightly that I was like a rose&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;unkissed by morning dew&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thou hast shown me the bright flowers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dancing beneath the sunny sky the music&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;of raindrops and the beauty of teardrops&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dearest one, Thy touch had saved the life of me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To care that much, Thy heart must be of gold.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;---The Healing Presence of a Shadow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;by C. Sienes 11/21/1989&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-7027123940055545510?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/02/healing-presence-of-shadow.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-5529024084193616058</guid><pubDate>Thu, 31 Jan 2008 10:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-01T19:38:28.496-08:00</atom:updated><title>Foot Pain</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Last week, my Significant Other complained about pain at the ball of his foot. It seemed that it had been bothering him for some time but he only told me about it when the pain intensified to the extent that he had to use crutches for a few hours just to walk around the room. For a while, we thought the problem might have been brought about by the new pair of shoes he got which he often used for taking long walks. The next few days had us brainstorming about what the problem could be and if something could be done about it. After considering several possible causes and finding the exact location of the pain, we arrived at the conclusion that it could be Metatarsalgia (foot pain affecting the balls of the foot usually the first, second, or third digit/toe and at times, affecting only the head of the big toe). This condition appears to be due to wearing constricting shoes and/or high-heeled shoes. Thankfully, it can be corrected so I &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Now, we are in the process of choosing the right Orthotics( foot cushions or cushioned insoles designed to alleviate pain and/or correct deformity) for him. I kept &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nagging him about getting Orthotics &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;and I am so glad that finally, my nagging has worked, LOL. I truly just cannot bear to see him in pain. Anyway, this is all for now. All this talk about foot pain seems to be making me pay particular attention to my own feet and wonder WHAT IF....? Sheesh. Ha ha ha.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-5529024084193616058?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/foot-pain.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-1128335563755516686</guid><pubDate>Sat, 22 Dec 2007 04:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-30T22:04:35.247-08:00</atom:updated><title>THE DREAM (HOLD ON TO YOUR DREAM) --IRENE CARA</title><description>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;This song from Irene Cara reminds me about me and my neverending chase for my dreams. For those of you who have dreams, never let go of them. Keep dreaming, keep reaching for them, and keep believing because often, dreams do come true...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been chasing dreams for so long&lt;br /&gt;Just one step behind and then they're gone&lt;br /&gt;Illusions of love would come and go&lt;br /&gt;I guess you have to hurt before you grow&lt;br /&gt;And everybody knows&lt;br /&gt;Never let go of the, never let go of the dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always seem to lose what I thought was mine&lt;br /&gt;And many times I tried to leave it behind&lt;br /&gt;Deep inside, hope was still alive&lt;br /&gt;Deep inside, dreams will never die&lt;br /&gt;That is why we're movin' closer to the truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really great for me to be here&lt;br /&gt;I've won over the pain and the fear&lt;br /&gt;It's been so very hard through the years&lt;br /&gt;Been looking through a rainbow of tears&lt;br /&gt;And still I never really let go of the dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I saw my life just falling apart&lt;br /&gt;And all the rejection tearing at my heart&lt;br /&gt;Deep inside, hope was still alive&lt;br /&gt;Deep inside, dreams will never die&lt;br /&gt;If you try there'll be so much more for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really great for me to be here&lt;br /&gt;I've won over the pain and the fear&lt;br /&gt;It's been so very hard through the years&lt;br /&gt;Been looking through a rainbow of tears&lt;br /&gt;And still I never really let go of the dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can all be free, we hold the key&lt;br /&gt;If we can see what we wanna be&lt;br /&gt;Life's never easy, you get no guarantees&lt;br /&gt;Why not give your all and see what you can find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-1128335563755516686?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/12/dream-hold-on-to-your-dream-irene-cara.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-4090992928333571164</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2007 04:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-08T02:45:41.832-08:00</atom:updated><title>ON HIATUS</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's been a long while since I posted a new entry here. I've been on semi-haitus as I have been quite busy on other pressing concerns with seeking overseas employment, talking to foreign HR people, renewing my AMT (American Medical Technologists) Certification, and other stuff. It's likely this hiatus will continue for the next 3 months or so as I shall be focusing more on reviewing on my own for another Professional Certification Exam. It seems the exams never end and there are certifications one after the other for me to contend with. Alas, woe is me, ha ha ha. I shall try to post new, short entries now and then, if I can. &lt;strong&gt;In the meantime, Merry Christmas everyone!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-4090992928333571164?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/12/on-hiatus.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-7799857446389095032</guid><pubDate>Wed, 21 Nov 2007 03:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-08T02:46:48.277-08:00</atom:updated><title>WAITING FOR A LIFETIME PARTNER FROM GOD</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;This was shared to me by one of my closest friends many years ago when I first joined the Catholic Renewal 13-Sunday Seminar enroute to becoming part of the CFC Singles for Christ. I would like to share this now to all my &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;friends, especially, &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Karen&lt;/span&gt;, and everyone else out there who has yet to find their lifetime partners. I believe that we really should pray for and ask God for that lifetime partner and not just jump into a relationship all for the sake of having one. True love is always worth the wait and if that love is a gift from God Himself, then that love will be of the lasting kind. God loves us and He will only give us the best...if we wait. I should know, it happened to me and it could happen to you:)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everyone longs to give themselves completely to &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;someone – &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;to have a deep soul relationship with another, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;to be loved thoroughly and exclusively. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But God, to the Christian, says, No, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;not until you are satisfied, fulfilled and content with being loved by Me alone – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;with giving yourself totally and unreservedly to Me – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;with having an intensely personal and unique relationship with Me alone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;will you be capable of the perfect human relationship that I have planned for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You will never be united with another until you are united with Me –&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;exclusive of anyone or anything else, exclusive of any other desires or longings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I want you to stop planning, stop wishing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and allow Me to give you the most thrilling plan existing –&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;one that you cannot imagine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I want you to have the best. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Please allow Me to bring it to you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You just keep watching Me, expecting the greatest things – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;keep experiencing the satisfaction that I am. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Keep listening and learning the things I tell you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You just wait. That’s all. Don’t be anxious. Don’t worry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Don’t look around at the things others have or that I’ve given them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Don’t look at the things you think you want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You just keep looking off and away up to Me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;or you’ll miss what I want to show you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And then, when you’re ready,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’ll surprise you with a love far more wonderful than any you would dream of. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You see, until you are ready, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and until the one I have for you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;is ready &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(I am working even at this moment to have both of you ready at the same time), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;until you are both satisfied exclusively with Me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and the life I prepared for you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you won’t be able to experience the love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;that exemplifies your relationship with Me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and this is the perfect love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And dear one, I want you to have this most wonderful love, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I want you to see in the flesh a picture of your relationship with Me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and to enjoy materially and concretely the everlasting union of beauty, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;perfection, and love that I offer you with Myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Know that I love you utterly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am God. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Believe it and be satisfied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;- Author Unknown &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-7799857446389095032?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/11/waiting-for-lifetime-partner-from-god.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-5580988124815928472</guid><pubDate>Mon, 05 Nov 2007 05:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-08T02:51:07.079-08:00</atom:updated><title>CLAIRE, The Vamp</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yep, you got it. Vampire eyes. I've got a bloodshot right eye at the moment, thanks to a freak accident last October 31st. Who would have thought that a small pebble from the road would find its way inside a public utility vehicle (with me on board) and hit the corner of my right eye? Certainly not me! The next thing I knew, my eye hurt. It was raining cats and dogs that night and since there was no trace of blood, I thought I'd wait till I got home and made an assessment of my eye's condition before I sought medical help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally got home, I immediately looked for a mirror and thought I was such a sight. Eat your heart out, &lt;em&gt;Christopher Lee&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Claire the Vamp&lt;/em&gt; is around now. LOL. Of course, I went to the &lt;em&gt;ER &lt;/em&gt;the next day and had my eye checked by a Surgeon since there was no &lt;em&gt;EENT &lt;/em&gt;doctor around. It was November 1, anyway. Most doctors don't hold clinics on All Saints' Day. To make a long story short, the Surgeon examined my eye and didn't see anything to worry about. Except that she said that if I wanted to and for my peace of mind, I could go visit an Opthalmologist of my choice just to double check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, I will do, come Wednesday morning this week. I wouldn't want to be walking around with a Red Eye lest I get mistaken for a Vampire-in-the-making, ha ha ha. Though, I probably wouldn't mind if someone mistook me for &lt;em&gt;Kate Beckinsale&lt;/em&gt; in &lt;em&gt;UNDERWORLD&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;UNDERWORLD EVOLUTION&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, gotta go. &lt;em&gt;Van Helsing&lt;/em&gt; seems to be after me now, ha ha ha. Just kidding:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-5580988124815928472?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/11/vampire-eyes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-8490125027516506475</guid><pubDate>Thu, 25 Oct 2007 01:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-26T18:52:13.216-08:00</atom:updated><title>OCEAN DREAMS</title><description>&lt;strong&gt;This is for my "OceanSky" and the oceans of love that I have been blessed to share with you....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;OCEAN DREAMS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;by C. Louise S.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Three decades of deep slumber&lt;br /&gt;soon I awake, I see my ocean sky&lt;br /&gt;swimming, drowning in pools of amber&lt;br /&gt;eyes that mirror my heart's long cry.&lt;br /&gt;Come wade in love's sweet waters,&lt;br /&gt;your soul and mine afloat shall mate;&lt;br /&gt;sailing thus, to happy ever-afters,&lt;br /&gt;two hearts now beat as one by fate.&lt;br /&gt;Beloved, the wind carries your name&lt;br /&gt;stirring waves and waves of longing deep;&lt;br /&gt;Out of depths from where I came,&lt;br /&gt;The sun in your eyes,oh let me keep.&lt;br /&gt;Just as the waves rush to kiss the shore&lt;br /&gt;and once-broken wings take flight,&lt;br /&gt;the journey ends, we search no more;&lt;br /&gt;Together we bask in love's pure light.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="102532432"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-8490125027516506475?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/10/ocean-dreams.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-1107542191526848521</guid><pubDate>Wed, 17 Oct 2007 02:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-08T02:53:25.886-08:00</atom:updated><title>LIKE A DESPERADO</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what do you do when your life comes to a standstill and you look back and see that all the years of hardwork, the blood, sweat, and the tears you've shed to give yourself a place under the sun had come to nothing? And you look into a mirror only to see a face of a stranger, the face of nothingness staring back at you. You've just been reduced to nothing...and the one good thing that's left, the only thing that still makes your heart beat to remind you that you're still alive in the midst of all your dead hopes, might also slip like water through your fingers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cry but, no one hears. So, you just hold it all inside, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out in pain. You begin to wish that you could just walk away from this life but deep inside, you know you just can't do that because it's wrong. You don't own your life. You don't want to burn in eternal fire. Hold on, girl, and ride the storm the way you always did before, you tell yourself. There'll still be better days and the sun will still shine for you one day soon, you remind yourself. But, you've heard all that crap before. That same line they kept on saying to you year after year---"Things might be better next year". Yeah, right. You gloat because all the years that came after all felt the same. You'd seen better days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you still even alive? You wonder. You think you still are because you know you are still breathing even if it already hurts to even breathe. You scratch your skin with your nails just to see if you'd still bleed so you'll know you're still alive. But, are you, really? You know, alive? So off you go running, screaming under the rain because you know the falling rain will hide your tears from the rest of the world. You run and run and you keep on running till you stumble and fall to your knees on the wet ground. And, as your mouth tastes the mud, your eyes flutter open and you look up to the heavens, wondering if you'd still be whole when it seems you already feel like you're only half the person you once had been.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, you push yourself up on your feet and stand weak and trembling in the cold. You feel so alone. Looking like a drowned rat with your hair plastered wet all over your face, your hands ball into fists. Squaring your shoulders, you tell yourself that you're now ready to start living on the edge of danger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ready and willing to take offers from even the most depressed and war-torn areas of the world. Ah, the more dangerous it is, the better. Oh, yes, you're so ready now to go through life the way only a desperado can and will. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="102532432"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-1107542191526848521?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/10/like-desperado.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-7162813871380281166</guid><pubDate>Thu, 27 Sep 2007 02:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-08T02:54:09.811-08:00</atom:updated><title>PAIN and Jaclyn Smith</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have met all sorts of people in the course of my job at the clinic where I've been stationed for 12 years now. Let's just say that I have had the privilege of seeing and experiencing for myself how people can either be nice or simply unpleasant when they chose to be. Overall, though, I can say that I have met quite interesting characters, too -- people who have left a good and lasting impression on me. One of them was a young, petite lady named Jacqueline Smith. No kidding. Jacqueline Smith! I remember smiling when I saw her name on the form I had asked her to fill out and she just smiled back and told me she knew what I was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jacqueline Smith?" I grinned at her. Jaclyn Smith, I mean, THE actress, was my favorite Charlie's Angel. I was just a kid then but I got hooked into watching Charlie's Angels so much I started entertaining ideas of becoming a lady Detective when I grew up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah," she replied, "Not the Charlie's Angel, though. Just call me Jackie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first met Jackie Smith at the clinic, she had been working for a bank in Digos City. She later told me that her father was of American descent, hence, her American surname. Everytime Jackie came to the clinic, she and I would often engage in friendly chats while waiting for my boss to arrive. I'd never been much of a talker and I seldom warm up easily to strangers but Jackie seemed to have a way of getting people to warm up to her or something. She was very nice and what I liked most about her was the way she'd never forget to say "God Bless You" shortly before leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was amazing, the way we found it easy to talk about life and Religious faith without butting heads. Jackie was a Born-again Christian and I've always been a Catholic who'd remain a Catholic for the rest of my days. It was all about RESPECT, I guess. I respected her faith and she had all respect for mine and what made it easier, probably, was how we talked not about our differences but about WHO we had in common -- Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where Jackie Smith is now. She hasn't been to the clinic in years. But, I'd like to share an excerpt from the audio tape that I once borrowed from her long ago. What the speaker talked about in that audio tape was PAIN. It helped me a lot and I hope it can be of help to you, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the excerpt I managed to jot down:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"PAIN TEACHES WHAT PLEASURE MISSES"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you are in PAIN:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) Because of personal Holiness/Righteousness -- thank God. You will be rewarded.&lt;br /&gt;2) Because of your sins -- thank God. You are being corrected.&lt;br /&gt;3) Because of other people's sins -- thank God. You are being brought into partnership and fellowship with Jesus who also went through the same path of pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this will help anyone going through the pain of persecution. This can also serve as a reminder for everyone of us who seek to be closer to the Lord. It would do us all well to remember that &lt;strong&gt;IT ALWAYS HURTS TO DO THE RIGHT THING FOR GOD&lt;/strong&gt; but let's do the right thing for God, anyway....at any cost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless you all...and thank you, Jackie Smith, wherever you may be right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="102532432"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-7162813871380281166?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/09/pain.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-2963057827344211172</guid><pubDate>Tue, 25 Sep 2007 03:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-26T18:52:43.360-08:00</atom:updated><title>ON SUITORS (GUYS)</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was actually an essay I submitted to my English teacher during my Freshman year in College. I spent a year at the Jesuit-run Ateneo de Davao University, taking up AB ENGLISH but eventually, I moved to an allied health school (SAN PEDRO COLLEGE) to pursue the pre-med course/degree that I had always been after--BS Medical Technology. Anyway, I dunno what possessed me to write this essay that day when our English 2: Grammar and Composition professor asked the class to compose a brief essay. I've never had so many suitors or guys courting me so even I could not imagine how on earth I'd managed to write about a topic I had no experience about at that time. I guess, I probably wanted to tickle my teacher pink because she was unmarried. Maybe this really tickled her and reminded her of those times in her life when guys swarmed her like bees--she gave me the highest grade for this! Ha Ha Ha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ON SUITORS (OR GUYS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- - -C. Louise S./ADDU -'86-'87 AB English section D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There are many types of suitors as far as we girls are concerned. There's the guy who looks at you as though he cannot take his eyes off you even for a moment that you'd like to think his eyes would pop out any second of the day. There is the one with a genius look---spectacles and all. But, the moment he starts talking about nothing but SCI-FI's, you'd begin to think you've just found yourself a bore. There's the one with a blank smile who goes following you around like a sick puppy looking for its mother. There is the smug who starts getting fresh that somehow, you'd find yourself wishing you could punch him straight at the nose so as to make that smug look disappear from his face. There's the guy who adorns you with gifts and sends you love letters with the words obviously copied from the lines of a song that you'll find yourself saying that even if he were the last man on earth, you wouldn't touch him with a twelve-foot pole. There is that shy and soft-spoken guy who doesn't talk too much but when he does, boy! Would you hope he'd say more! At least, you've got a guy sincere enough to mean what he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="102532432"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-2963057827344211172?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/09/on-suitors-guys.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975978366207246417.post-2083077271356030376</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Sep 2007 01:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-26T18:54:52.964-08:00</atom:updated><title>EVEN CLOWNS CRY</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have never lacked in the UNDERSTANDING department where my friends and loved ones are concerned. Some people are so lucky they have others who'd listen to them patiently, without complaining.........just understanding and trying to give comfort the best way they can and all because they love this someone so much. Others like me, are not so lucky. Most everyone in my life only seem to come to me for one thing -- to seek comfort from me when they're hurting. But, when I am the one in need of comfort or if not that, maybe just an affectionate word or two, or someone who'd care about my hopes and dreams, they act like I'm the plague. I am ignored...like my hurting and sadness do not matter. Only theirs matter most. Most everyone in my life is the same. Well, I have endured rejection of all kinds in my lifetime. I hope it doesn't happen to you--when you knock and no one answers. When you reach out and no one responds. When you cry out but no one listens or hears you. I hope it doesn't happen to you....because you have no idea how painful it can really be. Between this kind of pain and physical pain, I would much rather deal with physical pain because, at least, I know I can take pain relievers to ward off pain momentarily. With emotional pain, there is no medication, not even for temporary relief. But, then again, why should my pain matter to you? It shouldn't eat away at you, I guess. I don't even know why I am telling you this or why I am even talking about this. You don't care. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5975978366207246417-2083077271356030376?l=clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://clairesienesbyheart.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-have-never-lacked-in-understanding.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Claire, RMT, MT (AMT))</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>