<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279</id><updated>2011-09-05T09:02:39.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Karen...Once Again</title><subtitle type='html'>A door to my mind</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>187</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-4857047735963595725</id><published>2008-02-12T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T19:38:06.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>current work</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php?id=?view=XXX_09NNN/"&gt;current work&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-4857047735963595725?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php?id=?view=XXX_09NNN/' title='current work'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/4857047735963595725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=4857047735963595725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/4857047735963595725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/4857047735963595725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2008/02/current-work.html' title='current work'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-2937741094440668994</id><published>2007-12-31T11:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T11:24:11.422-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f-RlngwKRcE/R3lBt8fqrEI/AAAAAAAAABo/C8md0k8OaCU/s1600-h/let+go.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150219906463738946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f-RlngwKRcE/R3lBt8fqrEI/AAAAAAAAABo/C8md0k8OaCU/s320/let+go.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today is the last day. I'm letting go.... the sweet love, my broken love, the memories that are still somewhat vivid, the hope, the nonsense, the idea and the promise.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I won't miss you anymore... and I'm fine with that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&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/5615279-2937741094440668994?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/2937741094440668994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=2937741094440668994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/2937741094440668994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/2937741094440668994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2007/12/let-go.html' title='Let Go'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f-RlngwKRcE/R3lBt8fqrEI/AAAAAAAAABo/C8md0k8OaCU/s72-c/let+go.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-7677158713501931307</id><published>2007-12-20T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T10:48:14.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>45 YEARS!!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-7677158713501931307?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/7677158713501931307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=7677158713501931307' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/7677158713501931307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/7677158713501931307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2007/12/45-years-yeah.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-5537865419296138151</id><published>2007-12-18T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T14:17:06.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conocerte Asi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f-RlngwKRcE/R2hGysfqrCI/AAAAAAAAABY/E0I5Wcy-hcQ/s1600-h/2066002090_1efb11d40b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145440411022175266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f-RlngwKRcE/R2hGysfqrCI/AAAAAAAAABY/E0I5Wcy-hcQ/s320/2066002090_1efb11d40b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Me levantas el alma enamorada&lt;br /&gt;Caigo dos veces ilusionada&lt;br /&gt;Se hace imprescindible tu mirada&lt;br /&gt;Y cuando imagino una vida sin ti…&lt;br /&gt;Ya no quiero nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te imagino entregada&lt;br /&gt;En ti mi boca aferrada&lt;br /&gt;Te encuentras a partir de hoy&lt;br /&gt;En mi cuerpo aprisionada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu cuerpo es un camino sin encrucijadas&lt;br /&gt;Lo bordeo sin coartada &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Satisface en mi&lt;br /&gt;Un deseo de temporadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiero dejarte mojada&lt;br /&gt;Hundirte en mi almohada&lt;br /&gt;Sacarte suspiros y sentirte...&lt;br /&gt;Apasionada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Después imagino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontrar mi casa en ti&lt;br /&gt;Despertar allí&lt;br /&gt;Rodeada de el lago de colores cambiantes&lt;br /&gt;Que es tu mirar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Karen Suárez) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-5537865419296138151?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/5537865419296138151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=5537865419296138151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/5537865419296138151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/5537865419296138151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2007/12/conocerte-asi.html' title='Conocerte Asi'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f-RlngwKRcE/R2hGysfqrCI/AAAAAAAAABY/E0I5Wcy-hcQ/s72-c/2066002090_1efb11d40b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-5558286073193325368</id><published>2007-11-16T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T07:29:07.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Florianopolis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i285/jadekarenina/floripa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i285/jadekarenina/floripa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The morning drives allow me some time to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reminisce&lt;/span&gt;. This morning was so clear, the skies were blue, the air was crisp and there wasn't much traffic heading north. I have a box full of old tapes I just can't get rid of... and once in while, I bring a few to listen to in the car. Today was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Charly&lt;/span&gt; Garcia and some of the old Beatles songs I used to listen that summer in Brazil... The music brought me back!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was 15 and it was the last summer before I moved to the U.S. (the first time around). I think I've already written about this trip briefly in past posts but I had so much fun and so many wonderful things happened to me that summer that I will always cherish the memories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Starting from the road trip from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Buenos&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aires&lt;/span&gt; to Uruguay and then Santa Catarina... the bridge that takes you to the island of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Florianopolis&lt;/span&gt;. I went with Francine, my best friend at the time, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Romina&lt;/span&gt; and Luciana. We rented a house that had a private beach and hammocks. We would wake up  every morning and walk down to the beach, lay out, swim, walk, read, talk and talk some more. We would sometimes walk to the small downtown and walk around the shops, buy beer, laugh and scheme the night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I spent three months in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Florianopolis&lt;/span&gt; pretty much doing nothing other than going to the beach every day, eating seafood and drinking fruit juices, sleeping in the afternoon, showering with cold water to cool off from the sun, kissing boys, dancing, swimming at night, exploring. It was my summer out of a book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-5558286073193325368?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/5558286073193325368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=5558286073193325368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/5558286073193325368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/5558286073193325368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2007/11/florianopolis.html' title='Florianopolis'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-5739191961088523406</id><published>2007-11-14T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T07:34:27.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've had it! I really really really want this to be over. I feel taken advantage of. Lesson learned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-5739191961088523406?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/5739191961088523406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=5739191961088523406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/5739191961088523406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/5739191961088523406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2007/11/ive-had-it-i-really-really-really-want.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-324316071015997661</id><published>2007-11-13T12:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:17:56.497-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Judging</title><content type='html'>I feel people judge me for ordering Coke instead of Diet Coke... I really don't care!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-324316071015997661?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/324316071015997661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=324316071015997661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/324316071015997661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/324316071015997661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2007/11/judging.html' title='Judging'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-2004969574802909636</id><published>2007-11-12T08:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T09:17:12.321-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back!!</title><content type='html'>Wow! It's been a while. I wonder if anyone will read this... so much has been going on in my life lately! i have a new job! I went to Bolivia to visit my family! I'm moving to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Boca&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Raton&lt;/span&gt;! I've had many roommates in the past year and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; looking forward to getting a place for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;myself&lt;/span&gt; once and for all. It'll be a one bedroom :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write again but I promise I'll try not to bore you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-2004969574802909636?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/2004969574802909636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=2004969574802909636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/2004969574802909636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/2004969574802909636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back!!'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-114213248555589324</id><published>2006-03-11T18:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T08:58:21.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All is well with me and I guess that is why I haven't been writing here. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; been thinking for a while now that I want to change my page's look and add a few more things to it. I am learning how to use &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dreamweaver&lt;/span&gt; and if I don't get too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;distracted&lt;/span&gt;, you'll be seeing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; new here soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-114213248555589324?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/114213248555589324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=114213248555589324' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/114213248555589324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/114213248555589324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2006/03/all-is-well-with-me-and-i-guess-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-113146723185753577</id><published>2005-11-08T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T08:27:11.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>By Liza</title><content type='html'>May I confide, that your vibe propels me to imply&lt;br /&gt;that I reside at your bedside, &amp; take you on a joyride?&lt;br /&gt;By ride, I mean explore&lt;br /&gt;Metaphors that are soft or hardcore.&lt;br /&gt;For a moment let me adore&lt;br /&gt;Let me pour my love onto you like the seashore,&lt;br /&gt;Mi amour.&lt;br /&gt;Like a good groove let me move into you&lt;br /&gt;Select parts of you like a gourmet menu,&lt;br /&gt;Let me read to you Love by definition is this…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love: A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl,  let me uplift , with a kiss&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes and feel softness,&lt;br /&gt;Let’s be mutually speechless ,&lt;br /&gt;Loud whispers filled with love innuendos,&lt;br /&gt;Sensual word play as I display the vulnerabilities of a child&lt;br /&gt;in a woman with a spirit so wild.&lt;br /&gt;My pen tells my brain,&lt;br /&gt;I must refrain from falling in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;So I write,I write in spite of the controversy&lt;br /&gt;I conjure metaphors about the sea, and how it’s deep like your eyes&lt;br /&gt;In a muse there are no goodbyes,&lt;br /&gt;So I’ll dream about your eyes&lt;br /&gt;In a muse there are no goodbyes,&lt;br /&gt;So I‘ll dream about your eyes…&lt;br /&gt;I’ll awaken at your bedside,&lt;br /&gt;With nothing more to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Liza Nepa)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-113146723185753577?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/113146723185753577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=113146723185753577' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/113146723185753577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/113146723185753577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/11/by-liza.html' title='By Liza'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-113111215731448506</id><published>2005-11-04T05:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T05:49:17.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I got an apartment!!! Yay!! Oh, and I’m so excited because it is two blocks away from work in Coral Gables. That means more sleep, less stress, less expense in gas and my car will definitely appreciate the break. I move in November 15th and I am counting the days!!!&lt;br /&gt;Life has been pretty hectic lately, all with Hurricane Wilma hitting south Florida and no power and crazy traffic. I think things are going back to normal slowly but surely. Isabel gets here Nov. 17th and I’m so excited. We will be roommates and I think that it’ll be a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other things going on in my life... ay dios mio...no idea what I'll do about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-113111215731448506?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/113111215731448506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=113111215731448506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/113111215731448506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/113111215731448506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-got-apartment-yay-oh-and-im-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-112973652762690389</id><published>2005-10-19T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T08:42:07.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>No es un mandamiento ser la diva del momento (wow)&lt;br /&gt;Para que trabajar por un cuerpo escultural&lt;br /&gt;Acaso deseas sentir en ti todos los ojos&lt;br /&gt;Y desencadenar silbidos al pasar...&lt;br /&gt;Mira la escencia no las apariencias&lt;br /&gt;El cuerpo es solo un estuche y los ojos la ventana&lt;br /&gt;De nuestra alma aprisionada (oye)&lt;br /&gt;Mira la escencia no las apariencias&lt;br /&gt;Que todo entra por los ojos dicen lo superficiales&lt;br /&gt;Lo que hay adentro es lo que vale&lt;br /&gt;Siento en el aire un aroma espiritual&lt;br /&gt;mensajeros haladosIntentando aterrizar&lt;br /&gt;Si abres el estuche lo que debes encontrar&lt;br /&gt;Es una joya que te deslumbrara (hay pero)&lt;br /&gt;Mira la escencia no las apariencias&lt;br /&gt;90-60-90 suman dosientos cuarenta&lt;br /&gt;Cifras que no hay que tener en cuenta (oye)&lt;br /&gt;Mira la escencia no las apariencias&lt;br /&gt;No te dejes medir no te dejes confundir&lt;br /&gt;Alusate… haste valer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(El Estuche- Aterciopelados)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-112973652762690389?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/112973652762690389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=112973652762690389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112973652762690389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112973652762690389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/10/no-es-un-mandamiento-ser-la-diva-del.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-112671343383455070</id><published>2005-09-14T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T08:57:13.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>En Mi</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;En Mi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy mis hijos&lt;br /&gt;Soy madre y padre&lt;br /&gt;Soy un canto lejano&lt;br /&gt;Y una plegaria a el deseo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En mi sucumben&lt;br /&gt;Aca residen&lt;br /&gt;Conviven en mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy mi padre&lt;br /&gt;Soy mi madre&lt;br /&gt;Soy un grito callado&lt;br /&gt;Tambien soy un poco ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En mi aman y viven&lt;br /&gt;Lloran aqui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ven y descansa&lt;br /&gt;En mi&lt;br /&gt;Que tambien soy un poco de ti&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-112671343383455070?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/112671343383455070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=112671343383455070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112671343383455070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112671343383455070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/09/en-mi.html' title='En Mi'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-112447280327688581</id><published>2005-08-19T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T10:33:23.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lately</title><content type='html'>Que me anda pasando ultimamente, no lo se exactamente. Ni he aparecido por aca para contar que fui a Virginia para mi cumpleaños y que la pase increíble. Estuve con varios amigos que no veia hce mucho tiempo y fue bueno celebrar mi cumple como se debe. Me hizo recuerdo a mis tiempos en Bolivia.&lt;br /&gt;En otras noticias, mande al carajo a mi ex marido y esta vez va en serio. No nos volvemos a hablar, me siento liberada.&lt;br /&gt;He estado saliendo bastante con mi amiga Karla y la verdad que la pasamos super bien. Es como decimos, parece que el tiempo no haya pasado para nada. Hubo un reencuentro con un ex amor y lamentablemente no se que voy a hacer, solo un milagro me haría feliz con respecto a esa situación. Este a sido el mes del reproche.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-112447280327688581?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/112447280327688581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=112447280327688581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112447280327688581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112447280327688581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/08/lately.html' title='Lately'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-112145018466739360</id><published>2005-07-15T02:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T10:33:45.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There has been some flirting going on…I wonder if and where that may lead?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-112145018466739360?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/112145018466739360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=112145018466739360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112145018466739360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112145018466739360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/07/there-has-been-some-flirting-going-oni.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-112136551782000926</id><published>2005-07-14T03:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T10:55:27.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In case you were wondering</title><content type='html'>In case you were wondering...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22 Things About Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; I am a 29 year old girl who is still very afraid of the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; I live in Miami now, but grew up in Argentina and Bolivia. I like to move a lot. Something&lt;br /&gt;about staying still bores me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; I’m left handed and because of that was considered to be cursed. My grandmother would&lt;br /&gt;tear up every time she was reminded of it. She was determined to teach me to do things&lt;br /&gt;“properly”. Karma is a bitch and gave her 5 left-handed grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; I like to drive for hours, better if it’s all by myself listening to music really loudly, smoking&lt;br /&gt;cigarette after cigarette after cigarette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.&lt;/strong&gt; I have driven across the country in a pot stupor. I had to pull over a few times because the&lt;br /&gt;road was zooming in and out somewhere in the middle of the North Dakota. Somewhere&lt;br /&gt;along the way, I actually saw buffalo running in the free world. Heh…then I saw some of0&lt;br /&gt;them going in the hot springs all casually like if they were at the local spa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.&lt;/strong&gt; I am accident prone and the biggest klutz. I will break something of yours for sure. Do not&lt;br /&gt;invite me over your house because I will fall, kill your cat or break your microwave.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7.&lt;/strong&gt; I crashed my first car and blew up my second car all in 3 months. The second time was after&lt;br /&gt;a busy night of running through a field with machetes and drinking moonshine under the&lt;br /&gt;bed, while hiding from the cops. The night had to end with a BANG, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.&lt;/strong&gt; I once had a laughing attack in church and was asked to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.&lt;/strong&gt; I have good memory. I can still remember what I wore for my first day of school and what&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Baker was wearing when she told me I needed to be nice and let the kid that peed (all&lt;br /&gt;the time) into “my” tree house. The nerve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.&lt;/strong&gt; I have been in love once before and got my heart broken. I’m ready to fall in love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11&lt;/strong&gt;. I don’t know what I would do without books or music. I need them around me at all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12.&lt;/strong&gt; I was once taken by a cute hippie to a cave on a nudist beach to got some good lovin’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13.&lt;/strong&gt; I have kissed a girl before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14.&lt;/strong&gt; I grew up in a house with 7 maids and chauffers but was still taught well by my mom to&lt;br /&gt;pick up after myself and that I need to work to get what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15.&lt;/strong&gt; There is a book written about my family. I gotta say, I did not grow up the conventional way. Crazy shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16.&lt;/strong&gt; I hate it if you touch my hair. I will secretly despise you for a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17.&lt;/strong&gt; I love my friends and admire them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18.&lt;/strong&gt; I honeymooned in the jungle and woke up to monkeys staring at my naked ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19.&lt;/strong&gt; I have 2 brothers and two sisters and they are the bomb diggidy. My parents are too cool&lt;br /&gt;for words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20.&lt;/strong&gt; I punched my brother in the face one time because he was making me laugh too much. I&lt;br /&gt;know…I normally don’t hit people but these were weird circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;21.&lt;/strong&gt; I once partied for 4 days straight after New Years. I came home and had lost 10 pounds in&lt;br /&gt;those 4 days. Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;22.&lt;/strong&gt; I dropped my 3 month-old nephew on his head one time. Don’t look at me like that…It was&lt;br /&gt;his mom's fault!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-112136551782000926?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/112136551782000926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=112136551782000926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112136551782000926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/112136551782000926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/07/in-case-you-were-wondering.html' title='In case you were wondering'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111998980375633643</id><published>2005-06-28T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T13:16:43.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adios</title><content type='html'>Live well, stay safe&lt;br /&gt;I know goodbyes are hard  to say&lt;br /&gt;but it is harder to stay&lt;br /&gt;lay lover lay, like the song that played&lt;br /&gt;it will all be OK one day&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111998980375633643?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111998980375633643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111998980375633643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111998980375633643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111998980375633643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/06/adios.html' title='Adios'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111904318756237842</id><published>2005-06-17T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T14:19:47.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;You’re so consumed with how much you get&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You waste your time with hate and regret&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You’re broken&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When your heart’s not open&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Madonna)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salir de la habitación sabiendo que lo roto no es el vaso de cerveza que me tiraste en la cara.&lt;br /&gt;Salir sabiendo que lo roto sos vos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111904318756237842?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111904318756237842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111904318756237842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111904318756237842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111904318756237842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/06/broken.html' title='Broken'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111901789618062488</id><published>2005-06-17T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T07:18:26.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In a Funk</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;When we cannot be delivered from ourselves,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;we delight in devouring ourselves. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;Cioran)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me carcome la clara noción de que lo que mas me gusta hacer en la vida, lo hago mal. Escribir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El día laboral es demasiado largo, son muchas horas para tan poco trabajo. No da!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esto de estar trabada en trafico durante tanto tiempo le esta quitando el gusto a manejar. Eso si que esta terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veo mi casa como algo muy lejano. No entiendo como le voy a hacer para poder pagar todo yo sola. Ese no era el plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver cada vez mas lejos la posibilidad de tener hijos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El trago amargo que a veces puede ser la soledad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111901789618062488?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111901789618062488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111901789618062488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111901789618062488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111901789618062488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/06/in-funk.html' title='In a Funk'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111763921977552594</id><published>2005-06-01T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T08:20:19.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ludicrous</title><content type='html'>No se exactamente qué ni cómo paso pero se que a mi ex marido algo le anda fallando.  El fin de semana pasado hablamos por teléfono y entre que colgamos y media hora después, se había armado un drama en grande. Según él, su mejor amigo esta enamorado de mi y se quiere venir a vivir conmigo. Le armó tremendo relajo, me dejo mensajes desesperados, diciendo que lo llame inmediatamente y que el amigo le había contado “todo”. No se exactamente que puede ser “todo” si entre nosotros no pasa nada! Cuando revise mi correo había una carta de él diciendo que no podía creerlo, que como le pudimos hacer eso y bla, bla… Yo estaba bastante confundida porque nada que ver así que lo llame para saber bien que era lo que estaba pasando y cual era el problema. Me recontra colgó el teléfono. El amigo me jura que jamas le dijo eso… Esta todo muy confuso porque no se de donde se esta inventando tremenda incoherencia y hasta he pensado que realmente lago le anda fallando. Yo le conteste una carta diciéndole un par de cosillas, recordándole que para tener un “affair” hay que estar casado y ese no es el caso, ya que se le olvida que nos divorciamos. Pero mas que nada, que nada esta pasando! Cómo puede haber un malentendido tan grande y tan ridículo? En fin, se que esto no es el final de esta historia así que ya les contare, una vez que me entere, que es lo que paso realmente...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111763921977552594?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111763921977552594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111763921977552594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111763921977552594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111763921977552594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/06/ludicrous.html' title='Ludicrous'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111644069263936962</id><published>2005-05-18T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T11:24:52.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disservice to Service</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I've seen better days&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Been the star of many plays&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the bottom drops out&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My cup's filled up with five buck wine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Find myself here all the time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Another rip in the glass&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Another chip in my tooth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Rained on I've been stained on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Found another goat i tried to put the blame on&lt;br /&gt;(Citizen King)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoy de pesimisisiisisimo humor. Un humor como pocos. Como no lo he estado en mucho tiempo. En primer lugar, vamos mal desde el getgo porque mi dia empezo demasiado temprano. Me aliste, Sali a las 7:35 de la casa porque tenia una cita con INS para cambiar mi appellido y para que me den mi greencard temporario ya que el que supestamente me mandaron se perdio en el correo. En fin, un trafico de mierda, pero llego, me digo. Toda va bien hasta ahi cuando de pronto me acuerdo que me olvide las fotos en mi otra cartera. Shit. Ni modo. Vero me dice que alla seguro sacar asi que vuelo. Llego y en la entrada me dicen que tengo que pagar $5 para estacionar. No tenia cash asi que manejo como una loca al primer ATM que encontre en Little Haiti (no tienen muchos parece) y saco plata. Vuelvo y ya estoy encima de la hora. La gente que trabaja ahi no tienen ganas de ayudarte o simplemente responderte donde esta el elevador. Finalmente llego a donde sacan las fotos y ahi me dicen que ninguno de los fotografos estan, que ya deben estar poor llegar. Espero ahi, junto con otra señora y nada, no llegan. Un tipo nos dice que ya pronto llegan, que seguramente estan trancados en trafico. El mismo tipo me dice que no me preocupe poor que ya una hora de “grace period” entre citas. Esepro y espero y espero…. No llego nunca, paso la hora (osea, una hora tarde) y nada. Salgo y voy a la seccion donde hacen la entrevistas para preguntar si me atenderian pasada la hora. Pregunto por si acaso, aunque sabia que no lo iban a hacer porque hay mucha gente. El tipo de ahi, un imbecilllllllll, retrograda que trataba de hablar en ingles pero no podia, le hablo en español para failitarle la vida pero tampoco habla bien el español, me contesta con sus patas que no sabe nada, que espere. Y no era que no hablaba los idiomas, los hablaba mal y si le hablabas en ingles te respondia en castellano, despues le hablabas en castellano y te repsondia en ingles. No aprendio ninguno bien. (Si ya se que no debo ser tan mala, que el pobre tipo debe ser analfabeto pero igual, lo odie) Grrrrrrr!!!! Finalmente, me doy por vencida y me voy. Subo a mi auto, hacia mucho calor. Manejo hacia el downtown y mi telefono no paraba de sonar. Me pregunto, a quien mierda se le ocurre llamar tanto en la manana si saben que estoy en el trabajo. Me meto al primer Denny’s que encuentro y desayuno. A las 11 vengo para el trabajo y aqui estoy, esperando que sean las tres para una reunion que me cancelan ya dos dias. Lo mas probable es que tambien se cancele hoy y sin esa informacion no puedo hacer nada y mi deadline ya llega.  Esta noche tengo que salir de aca y manejar poor casi dos horas hasta Boca Raton para ver a Carla. Realmente no se si llego. Lo unico que quiero es dormir.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111644069263936962?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111644069263936962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111644069263936962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111644069263936962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111644069263936962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/05/disservice-to-service.html' title='Disservice to Service'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111625614985112242</id><published>2005-05-16T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T11:26:15.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>News</title><content type='html'>So I haven’t written here in a while and many things have happened. First of all let me just say that starting April 29th of 2005 I regained my single status (is that right?). I went to Seattle, presented myself in court, raised my hand and swore that the marriage was “irreparably broken”. It was an anti-climatic moment, filling out paperwork till the last minute and I happened to be the last one on the list. So there, it’s done. Irreperably broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in Seattle for four days and I did not see F. at all. It was my choice not to. I found it pointless to see each other. No words on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get to spend time with Annie, which was very cool. I miss her so much. I was also able to spend a few days in my old room relaxing and resting. That was definitely good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came back and jumped back into work and things are starting to settle for me here. I did have a pretty bad day this past Saturday, one of those dramatic it's-the-end-of-the-world days but I think it was my period or something because I feel fine now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to my parents and that was so great. I miss my family terribly and it really sucks that we are so far apart. I’m just glad that they are all doing fine and I’m grateful that I get to spend time with my sister here, everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Liza’s show is coming up May 26th! I told her I have not been this excited in forever and I can honestly say that is true. I hope Maribel can come to the show with me. I know for a fact she’ll enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhh, man, talk about crazy news. Delma Lorena is pregnant! I cannot believe it still. I wish her nothing but the best. She said she wanted me to be the baby’s god mother, I was filled with love for her and feel its a great honor to be named godmother. I really love her so much but I’m worried about her going through this all alone in Madrid with no family or friends. Her boyfriend is an ass so I’ll be calling her much more often now just to make sure she doesn’t need anything and that things are going well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annie finally found a house! She said its beautiful and she’s really happy. I’m happy for her. It sucks that we have to be so far away, but such is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those are the news in a nut shell. I’m sure I’m forgetting a lot of stuff but I have to get back to work now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111625614985112242?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111625614985112242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111625614985112242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111625614985112242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111625614985112242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/05/news.html' title='News'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111444055850659531</id><published>2005-04-25T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T07:49:18.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dreams of you being crazy, and me, always following you around. Sensing the chaos, knowing it all around. (It’s almost like if you say jump and I say how high). Phrases we made up go round and round in my head, feeling that the promises made went up to the space where nobody will bother to find them. Tonight I wonder if the space in your back I declared as mine is being touched and if your slumber is disturbed. Sacred nights uncovered, wasted voices, unheard. I dream of you and fragments of the known softness invade me. I believe that I’ll stay awake now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111444055850659531?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111444055850659531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111444055850659531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111444055850659531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111444055850659531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/04/dreams-of-you-being-crazy-and-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111419831287623420</id><published>2005-04-22T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T12:31:52.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrival</title><content type='html'>Te acercaste a mi. No te escuche pero se pronuncio tu olor. Ese olor tan familiar que es mezcla de un dia de verano en el bosque y las calles mojadas cuando deja de llover. Te acercaste a mi y supe que era el final de tu ausencia. En ese instante, aun sin mirarte a la cara, supe que aqui estabas para quedarte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111419831287623420?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111419831287623420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111419831287623420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111419831287623420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111419831287623420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/04/arrival.html' title='Arrival'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111418297881966205</id><published>2005-04-22T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T08:16:18.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whales, cops and maids</title><content type='html'>When I was 4 years old I had a dream that even until this day, remains in my memory so clear that I don’t think anyone I know has not heard about it. I was in my back yard at my house in La Avenida America where I grew up and I notice there is a four leaf clover right in front of me. I kneel to pick it up and all of a sudden the clover turns into a big gray whale. The whale was enormous, with big round eyes and a flat tail. The whale then opened its mouth and out came two cops holding their beating sticks. The cops then go ahead and arrest Maria, our maid while she kicks and screams. Then all of a sudden, Don Ramon (from El Chavo del 8, a Mexican signature show that every Latin-American kid knows, I’m sure) appears out of nowhere and very heroically, rescues Maria.  It’s not clear how he rescues her but for some reason he got really sick afterwards and and had to be taken to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years later, there were cops in my backyard, harassing our maids. And Don Ramon got really sick and had to be taken to the hospital, where he died. I wonder what it means and if it means anything at all. I’m not one to obsess about dreams but it’s so weird, especially the part with the cops and the maid. I just wish I had something to say about the whale. Then again, I might.. but I won’t go there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111418297881966205?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111418297881966205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111418297881966205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111418297881966205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111418297881966205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/04/whales-cops-and-maids.html' title='Whales, cops and maids'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111348732369520682</id><published>2005-04-14T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T07:02:03.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Commute</title><content type='html'>So yes, traffic is pretty bad. I had been forewarned many a times by Annie but to be quite honest, so far, I have enjoyed my drive to and from work. I get to listen to music, look at people and mostly, see the ocean everyday. I drive from Miami Lakes to Miami Beach every day using the Palemtto, then I-95  and towards the end of my drive, I go through I-195 towards Alton Road and the view is spectacular.  No wonder so many people live in Miami and so many people form other countries want to move here. It really is spectacular. I’m getting together with Zenia this weekend and I think that we are going out to a few clubs. I’ll tell you how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111348732369520682?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111348732369520682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111348732369520682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111348732369520682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111348732369520682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/04/commute.html' title='Commute'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111323428903679531</id><published>2005-04-11T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-11T08:44:49.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's So Lucky</title><content type='html'>Aca estoy en mi primer dia de trabajo en la compañia de software en Miami Beach ( no puedo darles el nombre por razones obvias). Me desperte bastante temprano, me duche tranquila, me maquille, me vesti y sali con  bastante tiempo porque hoy fue mi primer dia lidiando con el trafico de Miami. Llegue con suficiente tiempo y ahora estoy aca sentada en mi oficina, con vista al mar (!) y preguntandome como me ira en este nuevo capitulo de mi vida y preguntandome como siempre, como carajo llegue hasta aca. Desde que he llegado he estado tan feliz, todos los dias me despierto con animos y energia, estoy disfrutando del sol, de la musica, de mi familia y mis amigos. Miami me encanta! Ahora tengo un trabajo que paga muy bien, que queda en un lugar soñado, con vista al mar y hoy mas que nunca, me siento muy afortunada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy hacen tres años que fallecio mi Tatita y se que en este momento, sea donde sea que este, esta mirandome sonriendo porque todo esta bien.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111323428903679531?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111323428903679531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111323428903679531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111323428903679531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111323428903679531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/04/shes-so-lucky.html' title='She&apos;s So Lucky'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-111264985660968079</id><published>2005-04-04T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-04T14:24:16.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Miami</title><content type='html'>I have not had a chance to update in a while but i just wanted to let you all know that I'm already in Miami and happy as can be. I've bben here for almost tweo weeks and got a job 5 days after I moved here. I start work April 11th in Miami Beach. I'll write more later becuase I'm leaving right now.  Laters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-111264985660968079?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/111264985660968079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=111264985660968079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111264985660968079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/111264985660968079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/04/miami.html' title='Miami'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110979688321291632</id><published>2005-03-02T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T12:54:43.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 days</title><content type='html'>Well, It has been a while since I write here so I will start by saying that I am on the final countdown for my move. If anyone has been reading this little blog may know by now (and is probably sick and tired of my indecision) that I finally made up my mind and off I go. I have 20 more days in Seattle and I think I’m starting to get nervous and anxious and all those things but I think that I’m in pretty good shape organizationally. I’m very happy that none of my boxes got lost (yet…let me not jinx it because I still have four to go!) and that I have been able to get most of my bills paid in order to make a clear exit. Things at the house are not exactly peachy. Annie has an attitude and is not interested in spending any time with me, even though I have asked her to. It’s all good, I can understand her but I still think it’s very childish. By now, I’m just hoping for time to go by fast so that I don’t have to be in my room anymore. The house just got really small on me and there is nowhere else to hang out other than my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out yesterday that my friend Chris’s girlfriend, Karina has a brain tumor. I am so sad with the news, I hope that they can treat her and that she’ll get better soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been talking to some of my friends in Miami and they all seem very psyched that I’m going. I’ve already had someone offer me the lower level of their townhouse, had a job offer possibility at an architectural firm in Miami Beach, have a car waiting for me and a play I need to attend, a party someone is throwing for me… bright days ahead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110979688321291632?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110979688321291632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110979688321291632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110979688321291632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110979688321291632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/03/20-days.html' title='20 days'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110767170952502704</id><published>2005-02-05T22:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-05T22:35:09.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, The Irony</title><content type='html'>In the past few days I've been packing, paying my bills and getting together for the move. It has been hard beucase Annie is really sad about it and it is very difficult for me to leave her here. She is my best friend and we have shared so much, take care of each other and spend a lot of time together. However, it was an idea that has been rounding my thoughts for a very long time and I finally decided to take the plunge so I will just have to deal with it and sacrifice. The friendship we have will always be as important to me as it has been in the past and as it is today, only we will be living in different states. I will miss her so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the irony part. One of the reasons I made this decision is to get away from Fran and start a new life since our divorce is going to be final soon. Well, today I got a call from him saying that he will be moving back to Miami the 11th of March, a day before I have planned leaving. We both laughed about it becuase it's just crazy. Then agian, it has always been crazy when it comes to us and our fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110767170952502704?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110767170952502704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110767170952502704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110767170952502704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110767170952502704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/02/oh-irony.html' title='Oh, The Irony'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110676306922279620</id><published>2005-01-26T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T10:12:51.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miami, Decisions and Divorce (Like Sex, Lies and Videotapes, only not)</title><content type='html'>My trip to&lt;strong&gt; Miami&lt;/strong&gt; was great. I had a really good time with my sister (not enough!!) and I enjoyed the kids, specially Camila, she is too cute for words. We had fun celebrating my brother-in-law’s birthday and I got to spend some time with my aunt Silvia, I even ran into a childhood friend at the party! Unbelievable. Every bone in my body tells me I need to go back, that I have people that love me there and that there really is no good reason why I’m still here. I created a list yesterday listing the pros and cons about moving and by far, the pros side was fuller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’ve been talking about this way too much and I need to go ahead and take the plunge. &lt;strong&gt;Decisions&lt;/strong&gt; are a bitch but need to be made. This time around, I’ve made up my mind and I’m moving. I really can’t wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and on January 24th I filed for &lt;strong&gt;Divorce&lt;/strong&gt;. It will be final April 29th so there, it’s done, as simple as a signature and 120 dollars. I feel fine about it and I know it’s for the best. Wish me luck in my new adventures and I’ll be keeping you posted on what goes on in my life. Hopefully, things will pick up and be less booooring. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110676306922279620?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110676306922279620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110676306922279620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110676306922279620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110676306922279620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/01/miami-decisions-and-divorce-like-sex.html' title='Miami, Decisions and Divorce (Like Sex, Lies and Videotapes, only not)'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110557395847828546</id><published>2005-01-12T15:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T15:52:38.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>T Minus 4 hours</title><content type='html'>I can't wait!! I'm leaving work right now to attend a meeting and once that is over, I'll be oficially on vacation. I leave tonight and tomorrow, i'll be enjoying the sun and hanging out Miami-stlye, en chancletas.&lt;br /&gt;See ya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110557395847828546?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110557395847828546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110557395847828546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110557395847828546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110557395847828546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/01/t-minus-4-hours.html' title='T Minus 4 hours'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110548013850268048</id><published>2005-01-11T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T13:49:30.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First post for 2005</title><content type='html'>Hace mucho que no posteo y la verdad que han pasado un monton de cosas uiltimamente. Voy a enumerarlas, que conste que no por orden de importancia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mañana me voy de vacaiones a Miami. Estoy que no veo las horas de estar alla, ver amis sobrinos, estar con mi hermana, ver el sol despues de meses y pasar unos dias lejos del trabajo y de todo lo demas que anda pasando. Me acabo de dar cuenta que el año pasado viaje bastante: a Miami en Enero, a Los Angeles en Febrero, a Miami nuevamente pasando a Bolivia en Septiembre, a New York en Diciembre. Espero que este año que viene pueda viajar mucho mas. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A J. lo volvieron a internar. Esta vez, depues de un intento de suicidio en un hotel. Yo no se que anda pasando en su mente, pero obviamente no esta bien. Es muy tirste y muy jodido todo.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Estoy resfriada.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Estoy a dieta.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fui a Leavensworth para Año Nuevo y realmente puedo decir que el lugar es increible. Es un pueblito bavario en medio de las montañas.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Me corte el pelo yo solita.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110548013850268048?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110548013850268048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110548013850268048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110548013850268048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110548013850268048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2005/01/first-post-for-2005.html' title='First post for 2005'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110452203724004033</id><published>2004-12-31T11:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-31T11:40:37.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Divorce Papers</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Get back up on your feet &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Get yourself down to the street &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can you feel it coming together&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Better late than never&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Michael James Reich)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my resolutions for the year 2004 was to get my divorce. Today, December 31st, 2004, the last day of the year, we got together and signed them and they are ready to go. I guess better late than never...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110452203724004033?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110452203724004033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110452203724004033' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110452203724004033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110452203724004033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/12/divorce-papers.html' title='Divorce Papers'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110444310803865632</id><published>2004-12-30T13:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T13:45:08.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Stepping off the porch&lt;br /&gt;her heart now lighter&lt;br /&gt;she comprehends&lt;br /&gt;that home is where it has always been&lt;br /&gt;Within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110444310803865632?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110444310803865632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110444310803865632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110444310803865632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110444310803865632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/12/stepping-off-porch-her-heart-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110443934183520614</id><published>2004-12-30T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T12:42:21.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lo que forma mis dias&lt;br /&gt;Son los pensamientos desordenados,&lt;br /&gt;Las ideas con flojera,&lt;br /&gt;Los fracasos a medio vivir&lt;br /&gt;En esos bosques, no me importa perderme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110443934183520614?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110443934183520614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110443934183520614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110443934183520614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110443934183520614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/12/lo-que-forma-mis-dias-son-los.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110332316421721003</id><published>2004-12-17T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-17T14:39:24.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>10 things to 10 people in my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;You would say that you and I had been together in many past lives and that we had found each other again in this one. It’s too bad that it was short-lived. I would’ve loved to spend the rest of my life next to you, but it’s better this way. No matter what happens, know that I’ll always love you and you can count on me. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wish you wouldn’t be so judgmental and such a poser. It’s almost unbearable to be around you and your messy thoughts. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love you so much, you are a big part of my life. I hope nothing but the best for you and I hope that one day you realize that you don’t need to settle for anything just for the sake of not being alone. I will miss you!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You must stop doing what you’re doing. It’s not healthy. I hope that you wake up one day and realize that people will only be able to help you when you are open for it. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are the most interesting person I’ve met since I’ve been in Seattle. You are so talented, smart, empathetic and funny, among many other things. I miss hanging out with you and I hope that when I’m gone, you and I stay in touch. The day that you find what you are looking for, it will be winning lottery for her. I wish nothing but the best for you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are a low life. I have no words for you. I hope that you can’t sleep some nights thinking about you did. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I miss you! I think about you often and I look forward to the day when I see you again. I wish you hadn’t been so quick to label things the last times we saw each other, I was just having fun and learning about life. I hope that things in your life are going well and that you found what you were looking for. I will always think of you and smile.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yes. It is so true. We were never friends. Good riddance.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thanks for all the good advise and for knowing what I meant just from looking at me. Thanks for calling me out on my bullshit. If you were 20 years younger, I would so pursue you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thank you so much for being there for me, at the precise moment I needed you. I will never forget you, the fact that you listened to me and that you let me borrow your shoes. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110332316421721003?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110332316421721003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110332316421721003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110332316421721003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110332316421721003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/12/10-things-to-10-people-in-my-life.html' title='10 things to 10 people in my life'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110304916016133090</id><published>2004-12-14T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-14T10:32:40.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New York</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Wednesday:&lt;/strong&gt; We arrived at 10:30 am and took the bus to Queens. We said hit o A. uncle, dropped off our bags and headed to the subway station. We stopped for a slice of pizza and headed downtown. J. was so tired that we had to stop and go watch a movie so that he could rest for a bit. We then walked around the Village for a few hours, shopping a little and taking it all in. We then walked to meet up with J.’s friends for dinner. We meet Travis, Fernando and Emily. We then walked for many, many blocks, through Soho, Little Italy and Chinatown until we found the place that Emily recommended for dumplings. We had dinner and then took the subway to Rockefeller Center. The place was amazing! The Christmas decorations and the people ice-skating were out of a movie. We took pictures and then headed to Park Avenue, we walked and walked and walked some more. We crossed the street into Central Park and then, dead tired, took the subway back to Queens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thursday:&lt;/strong&gt; We woke up late and lazied around for a while. It was raining and we were very tired from all the walking we had done the day before so we decided to kind of take it easy that day. We headed to the shops in Queens were I separeated from them to go buy myself a pair or tennis shoes. On my way back to the house, I stopped and got a pedicure! I met Monica that night, very strange and surreal.&lt;br /&gt;Friday: We woke up late again and decided that we were going to go see the art galleries in Chelsea. We took the subway downtown and started walking in the direction we thought was right. Wrong!! We had to take a cab there because it was late and raining. We went into an art exhibition that was showing art from the late 70s-early 80’s. Pretty amazing stuff. I got in an argument with J. because he can be fucking rude sometimes so I decided to skip dinner and the party that we were supposed to go to. Instead, I took a cab to Times Square. Wow! I got there and I couldn’t believe it! I was bummed that I didn’t have my camera with me but I walked around taking it all in. I went to dinner by myself, where I met a really cute waiter. After that, I walked around, looked at the shops and finally found the subway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday and Sunday&lt;/strong&gt;: We woke up late, one again…We packed because we were leaving at 4:30 in the morning on Sunday. It was a pretty stressful morning because we couldn’t find any of our stuff, but we finally got it together. W took Lauren with us downtown. We got off in the World Trade Center stop. I had never seen the Twin Towers, so it was hard for me to grasp the concept of how huge they were, but given the hole in the ground, they must’ve been enormous. It was sad for me to be there and imagine of the people that lost their lives there.&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went into a store that was packed and everyone got annoyed so we then took the subway to Macy’s. We met up with Fernando, Travis, Chii and Elizabeth, A.’s other niece. We went into a few stores and then took the subway to Little Italy. We had a really nice dinner and then headed to Times Square. Annie and I got into a little argument but we talked it through. We went into Virgin Records, where I bought the last U2 CD. Yay! We hen took pictures and walked to find the David Letterman Show. We took some more pictures, lie the idiots that we are. We had a cup of coffee and by then it was almost 3 in the morning so we said goodbye to J.’s friends and headed back to Queens so that the girls could sleep and we could pick up our luggage and head to the airport. We got to the airport feeling so damn tired, but happy that we had stayed up and enjoyed the city until the last minute. We caught out plane into Detroit where we were received by a snowstorm. We then headed to Seattle, the northern route, through Canada because of the weather. I passed out immediately and then woke up to the most amazing view of snowed mountains and frozen rivers. We finally made it to Seattle at around noon and home.  Ahhhhh, home sweet home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110304916016133090?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110304916016133090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110304916016133090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110304916016133090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110304916016133090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/12/new-york.html' title='New York'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110212921183474896</id><published>2004-12-03T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-03T19:00:11.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday</title><content type='html'>I just got home from work and running and errand. I walked in, got into my favorite pajamas, my Christmasy pajamas. Now I'm gonna work on this page to see if I can make it look better. I decided to go back to a regular blogger template because, since I'm not very familiar with html yet, all of my attempts looked good for a few days and then I would have broken links, or my pictures would disappear. I think I'll just keep it simple this time around but I definitely want to change the colors and the fonts.&lt;br /&gt;A while ago, I had decided that I would write on this page at least once a day and I haven't been doing that. I want to start doing that from now on and see what happens. I think I'll go cut my hair now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110212921183474896?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110212921183474896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110212921183474896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110212921183474896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110212921183474896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/12/friday.html' title='Friday'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110209659898910379</id><published>2004-12-03T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-03T09:56:38.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Start spreading the news</title><content type='html'>... I'm leaving on Wednesday to New York!!! I'm so freaking excited, I cannot even begin to tell you.  Joel, Annie and I are going on a 5 day extravaganza to check out the big city.  I have so many things I want to go see and I have a feeling I won't want to come back. So... if you don't hear back from me, you know where to find me. Not that anyone reads this hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110209659898910379?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110209659898910379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110209659898910379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110209659898910379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110209659898910379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/12/start-spreading-news.html' title='Start spreading the news'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-110125805324175141</id><published>2004-11-23T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T10:35:10.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Un monton de cosas han pasado desde la ultima vez que escribi aca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;J. Esta internado. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Decidi quedarme un tiempo mas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bush gano las elecciones (grr)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mi auto se jodio&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ch. y yo ya no hablamos a partir de hoydia&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;F. vino a mi casa y vimos una pelicula, como en los viejos tiempos, despues se fue y no he vuelto a saber de el. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nada bueno ultimamente. Perdon el bajon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-110125805324175141?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/110125805324175141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=110125805324175141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110125805324175141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/110125805324175141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109998205150426810</id><published>2004-11-08T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T08:49:35.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tapas</title><content type='html'>I just got back from having the best tapas ever! Annie, Joel and I went to &lt;a href="http://http://www.thescarletmacaw.com/harvest_vine.htm"&gt;Harvest Vine&lt;/a&gt; to celebrate Annie's 30th birthday. We had everything in the menu and it was all excellent. Now I'm alone downstairs smoking a cigarette and listening to some songs that Charly told me to download. It has been a very good day all in all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109998205150426810?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109998205150426810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109998205150426810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109998205150426810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109998205150426810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/11/tapas.html' title='Tapas'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109976995552449752</id><published>2004-11-06T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T10:35:48.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleh</title><content type='html'>I just talked to my brothers J an B and sister M.. I miss them so much! I also talked to my friend Isabel and she told me she coming up in January or February and I can't wait. I aslo tried calling my fried Carlos Enrique to talk to him becuase him and his wife recently lost their twins at birth. I am so sad for them, it's just not right.&lt;br /&gt;So it's the weekend again and again I'm here alone. I wish that time could fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109976995552449752?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109976995552449752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109976995552449752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109976995552449752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109976995552449752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/11/bleh.html' title='Bleh'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109920429448833144</id><published>2004-10-30T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:33:11.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah you</title><content type='html'>You call me up, telling me you want to see me, you write telling me you miss me, you make plans, tell me to trust you, that you would call or show up. Well, like always(who knows why?) I beleived you and it sucks that you think that you can still act that way with me. Well let me tell you something, I don't want to play games, I never did and I don't want to start now. I can never count on you. You are the one that is supposed to be trying, you arethe one that needs to put the most effort, becuase YOU fucked up. So I don't know what makes you think you can call me up and make plans with me to later on basically shit on it. Remember.. YOU are the one that told me you wanted to see me. If you cannot even get around to keeping a promise as simple as picking up the damn phone or, god forbid, be trustworhy, then what makes youthink you I'd ever venture into getting back with you. I'm very fucking pist. With that said, I don't think you and I should see each other again. I'm moving away in May, and this time is forreal, it's time for me to move on with my life and put you behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109920429448833144?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109920429448833144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109920429448833144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109920429448833144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109920429448833144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/yeah-you.html' title='Yeah you'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109908721725207982</id><published>2004-10-29T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T15:00:17.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Don't wanna be an American idiot.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't want a nation under the new mania.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And can you hear the sound of hysteria?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The subliminal mindfuck America.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Green Day)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was young I used to hate watching TV. I would rather be playing, or eavesdropping my parents conversation or bothering someone in the kitchen. Now a days, most of the times, I get home, shower, eat something and then park my ass in front of the TV. As I’m doing this, I think about 40 times that it’s not good, that I already spend most of my day sitting down at work in front of a screen. It can’t be healthy to get home and do the same, my ass will only get fatter and my muscles will turn into jelly. Bottom line, I have a severe case of the lazies and it just ain’t cutting it. Therefore, this weekend I pronounce it "Fuck TV" weekend. So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109908721725207982?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109908721725207982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109908721725207982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109908721725207982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109908721725207982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/dont-wanna-be-american-idiot.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109908360992767537</id><published>2004-10-29T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T14:00:09.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>greasy lunch</title><content type='html'>I just came back from lunch. I decided to not be lame and take the bus down to the Pike Place Market, specifically to Johnny Rockets for a burger. I haven’t had one since highschool and I remembered  how much i used to like them, so I thought, what the hell. Well, 8 bucks and  a greasy burger (no fries!) later, I’ve decided that it was not worth it, it was nasty and expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to bigger and better things…&lt;br /&gt;It’s almost the weekend! Yay!! I think I have plans for Saturday afternoon, but they won’t be confirmed till later on today after he calls me. I made a list of the things I need to ask him and discuss with him because I noticed yesterday that when he calls I forget everything I need to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109908360992767537?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109908360992767537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109908360992767537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109908360992767537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109908360992767537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/greasy-lunch.html' title='greasy lunch'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109883368243475181</id><published>2004-10-26T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T16:34:42.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Early in the morning, risin' to the street&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Light me up that cigarette and &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;I strap shoes on my feet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Got to find a reason why my money's all gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Sublime)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y asi pasan los dias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109883368243475181?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109883368243475181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109883368243475181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109883368243475181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109883368243475181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/early-in-morning-risin-to-street-light.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109881302058349302</id><published>2004-10-26T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T16:27:49.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what to do, what to do...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Consistency requires you to be as ignorant today as you were a year ago.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Bernard Berenson)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. So here I find myself again in a position similar to last year around the same time of year. I really need to make up my mind about a few things and do them already. I need some extra money to do this and I need to figure out how i'm going to get it, so if you have any ideas, please shoot them my way. Regarding Fran, well, who knows what will happen. He makes me mad!&lt;br /&gt;As per this damn cold weather, well with me , I guess it really all depends on the weather. This past weekend was crazy, fights, boredom, movies, bad food, discovery of an unwanted visitor, feeling good about taking steps to bettering my situation, conversations, phone calls and not much more.&lt;br /&gt;Pretty lame entry, but that's my mood right now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109881302058349302?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109881302058349302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109881302058349302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109881302058349302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109881302058349302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/what-to-do-what-to-do.html' title='what to do, what to do...'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109769520394477541</id><published>2004-10-13T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-13T12:20:03.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Diego</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Another world where the birds always sing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Another world where the sun always shines&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Another world where nothing ever dies...&lt;br /&gt;(The Cure)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a call from my friend Silvana yesterday to tell me that my friend Diego Bravo had been killed. It was such a sad, very sad shocking moment. Apparently, someone broke into his house to rob it and hit him in the head with a bat. His girlfriend and him were sleeping. This happened Friday night and he died Saturday morning. My heart goes out to his family and his girlfriend. I will miss him and remember him always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109769520394477541?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109769520394477541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109769520394477541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109769520394477541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109769520394477541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/goodbye-diego.html' title='Goodbye Diego'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109725650538067745</id><published>2004-10-08T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T10:28:25.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vote</title><content type='html'>Everytime I hear about the beheadings that are going on in Iraq, my heart contracts in pain. I cannot imagine the pain that the victims’s families go through. This all needs to stop, the killings, the war, the pain… I’m a U.S resident, therefore I cannot vote, but I ask of all of you who can, to please do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109725650538067745?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109725650538067745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109725650538067745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109725650538067745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109725650538067745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/vote.html' title='Vote'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109708025129424119</id><published>2004-10-06T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-06T09:30:51.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday night is party time</title><content type='html'>We all went out last night. We went to Chopstix, the dueling piano bar in my neighborhood where we had a few drinks, ate dinner and prayed so that the singers wouldn’t target us and make us go up on stage. It was a lot of fun. After that we went to Capitol Hill because Maribel wanted to go the one of the gay bars there, Wild Rose or something like that. We had a really good time there trying to encourage Maribel to go talk to the girl she liked. She eventually did but it was almost too late because the girl was out the door. At around 1:30 am we crossed the street and went to Barça, had an interesting conversation and then got kicked out because the bar was closing. I went home and feel a sleep immediately Ohh how I loved my bed ... Last night was fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s Wednesday morning now and I’m at work hungover but ok. I think I’ll go have some eggs now, see ya later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109708025129424119?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109708025129424119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109708025129424119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109708025129424119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109708025129424119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/tuesday-night-is-party-time.html' title='Tuesday night is party time'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109701098854432251</id><published>2004-10-05T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T13:22:08.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>143</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;In your room&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where souls disappear&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Only you exist here&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Will you lead me to your armchair&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or leave me lying here&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your favorite innocence&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your favorite prize&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your favorite smile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your favorite slave&lt;br /&gt;(In Your Room – Depeche Mode)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first time we moved in together. It was years ago, when we were both 18 years old and very much in love. We had been dating for a year when I decided to move to L.A. to do… God knows what…the thing is that I had moved away and left him. His heart was broken, I couldn’t stop thinking about him and it was, altogether, a miserable situation. We wrote to each other every single day of the six months that I was there, beautiful love letters, some even written in blood (I know, I know, we were kids!). We called each other every night and swore that when I got back, we would get married and love each other forever. I finally got back, moved in with him amd made love every day and every night. We would stay in bed days on end in the little room he had in that little house by the airport. Whenever we weren’t in the room, we would watch Sienfeld or walk to the corner store for ice cream or soda. We would walk past the pink house that was number 143 and tell each other that one day we would buy that house and our children would grow up there. God, we were so young and naïve! We had no money, we weren’t working and our families were concerned about us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, we had to separate. He left to Virginia to live with his mom, I went back to Argentina to live with my parents but we always kept in touch, we always told each other that we would be together again someday. Years passed, many things happened… The day did come. We did find each other again and we got married, very much in love. In bed, years later, we would reminisce about the days spent in the little room and wondered if the pink house of love would someday be ours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109701098854432251?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109701098854432251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109701098854432251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109701098854432251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109701098854432251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/143.html' title='143'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109691172600252195</id><published>2004-10-04T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T10:42:06.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me, Myself and I</title><content type='html'>This weekend was a very relaxing one. At moments, too damn relaxing. I was supposed to go to Vancouver with Annie , Joel, Maribel and Pablo but ended up not going. They left Friday at noon and I was supposed to drive up there and meet up with them. I thought about it and considered my options. The drive up there by myself would’ve been nice, the city, a little time off, the company, they all sounded awesome… but I can’t spend any money for a while, so I decided to hang out by myself. I did, I watched TV, took my car to get washed, I cooked for myself what I wanted, I drove up north on Saturday to a casino, where I played for a little bit, lost 20 bucks and left. On Sunday I woke up at 11:30 am, made lunch and hung out at home. I did a little bit of beading, and waited for Tania y call me. Edgar, my dad’s lawyer sent some peppers for this Bolivian couple that lives here in Seattle. So I waited for them to come over, but they called me to tell me they were stuck in traffic downtown, so I decided to go meet up with them by the Key Arena. Really nice people. I came home and had dinner and read a little, talked on the phone and watched TV until it was bed time. Really nice weekend, all to myself. I’ve been doing some thinking about my purpose here and the reasons why I’m still living here and I’ve made up my mind on certain things. I won’t discuss them here yet, but I will soon let you guys know what’s going on.&lt;br /&gt;So it’s Monday, I’m listening to an old Power 96 tape from back in the day… give it up for booty music!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109691172600252195?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109691172600252195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109691172600252195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109691172600252195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109691172600252195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/10/me-myself-and-i.html' title='Me, Myself and I'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109660783859599129</id><published>2004-09-30T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-30T22:21:58.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On Bush and other things</title><content type='html'>So Maribel, Annie's childhood friend, and her boyfriend Pablo are in town visiting for a few days. It's gonna be fun to hang out with them. They are going to be leaving to Vancouver tomorrow morning and I'll be meeting up with them tomorrow night. This weekend will be lots of fun! Wohooo!&lt;br /&gt;So I watched the presidential debate last night and even though I'm not a political person, nor do I want to talk about politics here, I must say that I hope the polls are right. The madness needs to stop and the inept jackass needs to be gone. I'm a resident in the U.S., therefore I can't vote, but if I could, there is no way in hell I wouldn't. it would be irresponsible of me not to. Therfore, let me sound like P.Diddy and VOTE.&lt;br /&gt;On other news, my dad is doing better. I spoke to him today and he is recovering, slowly, but surely. I'm glad I was able to be there for the surgery and so relieved that it all went as planned.&lt;br /&gt;I am very thankful for my family, friends and coworkers support throughout the whole ordeal. They were unbelievably awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109660783859599129?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109660783859599129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109660783859599129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109660783859599129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109660783859599129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/on-bush-and-other-things.html' title='On Bush and other things'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109650026619886889</id><published>2004-09-29T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T16:26:00.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Papacito</title><content type='html'>Last night I watched &lt;em&gt;21 Grams&lt;/em&gt; with Sean Penn and Benicio del Toro. It was an excellent movie. My roomate didn’t think so but I thought it was great, so crude and not sugar coated, very back and forth (in lack of the right terminology). Plus, Benicio del Toro is one fine motherfucker. Mmmm. Holy shit, not even when I was in highscool did I drool over somone on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109650026619886889?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109650026619886889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109650026619886889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109650026619886889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109650026619886889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/papacito.html' title='Papacito'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109649510851630997</id><published>2004-09-29T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T15:00:43.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Past</title><content type='html'>I hate the fact that I sometimes live in the past. I need to stop that now. I tend to spend my days reminiscing about the good times I had and forget that today is here and that if I keep on doing this, I will live my life caring about the wrong people because I don't give new people and opportunities a chance. I'll start with the small things, as of today, the people that are blocked in my MSN list will remain blocked and that is it. Pheew..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109649510851630997?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109649510851630997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109649510851630997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109649510851630997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109649510851630997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/past.html' title='Past'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109640740126527365</id><published>2004-09-28T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T14:36:41.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Office space moment</title><content type='html'>There is this asshole in my office, we’ll call him Mr. Jackass. He is three feet away from me talking to one of the directors telling him a story about a game he played in a casino with fake money. He is explaining, in painful detail, what the game consists on like if it was the real deal betting. He is saying that he won up to 4 million dollars and that whew, he made a bad choice and lost it all, therefore he will never come across that much money. He is going on and on (loudly, I might add) about what he would do with that much money if he ever had it. It was fake money dude! You will never have it to take that rip to Spain you are talking about! You are too damn stupid and lazy and ridiculous. Oh, oh…his last comment (the director is slowly walking away while Mr. Jackass still flaps his lips) "Some people were born to be investors, and some of us like to have fun" Snerk, snerk…. God, what an idiot. This is the same guy that when we had out company meeting went and napped in a bench for the entire event. He just aggravates me. Grrr. Sorry, had to vent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109640740126527365?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109640740126527365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109640740126527365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109640740126527365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109640740126527365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/office-space-moment.html' title='Office space moment'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109633488547956121</id><published>2004-09-27T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-27T18:28:05.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Trying new look...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109633488547956121?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109633488547956121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109633488547956121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109633488547956121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109633488547956121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/trying-new-look.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109626164319289185</id><published>2004-09-26T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-27T22:45:20.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>shoop shoop</title><content type='html'>I'm listening to old music thanks to my DJ friend in Argentina. I've had a really relaxing weekend. It's been a week since I got back form my trip and even though I came back to a few messes, all in all, things are OK.&lt;br /&gt;I really need to get this blog fixed. I don't like how it looks now and it has a lot of imperfections. Maybe I'll dedicate the rest of my evening to giving my page a face lift. Expect something different next time you come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109626164319289185?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109626164319289185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109626164319289185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109626164319289185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109626164319289185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/shoop-shoop.html' title='shoop shoop'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109621627245710934</id><published>2004-09-26T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:37:52.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Francis</title><content type='html'>Yesterday F. and I got together. He picked me up at around 4:30 and we went to my neighborhood bar for a beer. We talked and talked and talked some more. He said that he loves me and that he msses me and that he wants to get back together. I told him that it would tak a miracle for that to happen beucase the trust is gone. It was bitter sweet, it was what I've been waitng for but at the same time dreaded. I still love him, I do but I don't see us getting back together. Damn, why does life have to be so complicated?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109621627245710934?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109621627245710934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109621627245710934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109621627245710934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109621627245710934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/francis.html' title='Francis'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109582551002474604</id><published>2004-09-21T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-21T20:58:30.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Surprise surprise, it’s you again&lt;br /&gt;When will you learn little one&lt;br /&gt;That when it comes to the that&lt;br /&gt;You better stir clear from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You now will spin&lt;br /&gt;spit and kick&lt;br /&gt;Someday when you look back&lt;br /&gt;You will realize&lt;br /&gt;That you were wrong And I was right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109582551002474604?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109582551002474604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109582551002474604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109582551002474604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109582551002474604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/surprise-surprise-its-you-again-when.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109571520929907163</id><published>2004-09-20T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T14:20:09.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the salt mines</title><content type='html'>Volvi despues de mucho tiempo. Tuve que irme de viaje de emergencia a ver a mi papa ya que lo operaron del corazon, triple bypass a corazon abierto. Estuve en mi casa, con mi familia despues de cuatro años. La operacion salio bien y ya se esta recuperando. Fue tan lindo ser hija nuevamente, poder estar ahi y saber que va a estar bien. Comparti con mi mama, con mis hermanos y vi a todos mis amigos. La ultima semana que estuve alla, ya despues de saber que mi papa iba a estar bien, sali y la pase increible. Pronto veran las fotos. Estoy nuevamente en Seattle y continuare escribiendo en esta pagina asi que no cambien de canal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109571520929907163?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109571520929907163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109571520929907163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109571520929907163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109571520929907163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/09/back-to-salt-mines.html' title='Back to the salt mines'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109364606491383598</id><published>2004-08-27T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-27T15:34:24.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Song from the past</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Unexpected Lovers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(LIME)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How can there be no love&lt;br /&gt;No feeling of passion too&lt;br /&gt;The way we were dancin' love&lt;br /&gt;How could it be I'm through&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We spend the night together&lt;br /&gt;Until the morning light&lt;br /&gt;Baby do you remember&lt;br /&gt;The music in our eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Such an enchanting evening&lt;br /&gt;A lovers romantic night&lt;br /&gt;The moon and stars are leavin'&lt;br /&gt;The sea was glowing bright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were unexpected lovers&lt;br /&gt;Not just ordinary lovers&lt;br /&gt;Sharing unexpected lover&lt;br /&gt;My true love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love like no other lovers&lt;br /&gt;like no other lovers do&lt;br /&gt;The way we kissed each other&lt;br /&gt;And help each other too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will we ever love again&lt;br /&gt;And share another night&lt;br /&gt;Should we ever meet again&lt;br /&gt;To love each other right&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;for you...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109364606491383598?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109364606491383598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109364606491383598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109364606491383598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109364606491383598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/song-from-past.html' title='Song from the past'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109364574545637490</id><published>2004-08-27T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-27T15:29:05.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad eyes</title><content type='html'>Ayer alguien me dijo que tengo la mirada triste, que ya no soy la misma. Eso me puso la mirada triste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109364574545637490?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109364574545637490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109364574545637490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109364574545637490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109364574545637490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/sad-eyes.html' title='Sad eyes'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109362625110483567</id><published>2004-08-27T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:39:12.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Charly</title><content type='html'>Charly is my exboyfriend of three years. He lives in Argentina and loves music. I dated him in 1995 until 1998 and the way that man loved me, no one has ever loved me. Him and I were a team, we were together every minute of everyday. He used to hold my hand when we walked down the street and used to make love to me every night no matter how tired he was. He played excellent music for me and used to tell me "te amo" at least 8 times a day. He wanted me to have his babies and wanted to make me his wife. Charly was handsome and a good man. He was a bit possessive and jealous but he treated me like no other. I miss him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been talking lately and so many memories have been flooding my mind, like the times when we used to sleep in my tiny bed in my tiny room in my house in Buenos Aires. The many times we sat out in the cold at 4 in the morning waiting for the bus. All the weekends at his house, lying in bed, making love and listening to Lime. Like the time when he came out of the subway after a big fight the night before and he just hugged me and told me "let’s forget about everything, I just want to love you". Or the time when walking down Rivadavia we both looked at the mirror above us and he told me " estamos tan enamorados". I remember all the nights spent at our local café, smoking cigarettes and telling each other everything in our pasts. So many good memories. I regret having had hurt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109362625110483567?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109362625110483567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109362625110483567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109362625110483567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109362625110483567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/charly.html' title='Charly'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109362541538454309</id><published>2004-08-27T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-27T09:50:15.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dad</title><content type='html'>My dad had a heart attack a few days ago. It has been hell just thinking about how far away I am right now and how I can’t give him a hug and tell him it’s all going to be alright. He’s in the hospital in Trinidad and according to the doctor, he’s going to be o.k. I am very worried though. I love him so much, he’s the one person that I admire the most. Please send good thoughts his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109362541538454309?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109362541538454309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109362541538454309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109362541538454309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109362541538454309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/dad.html' title='Dad'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109268047882165927</id><published>2004-08-16T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-16T11:21:18.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Circus</title><content type='html'>Friday night I went to the circus. It was a community circus called the Cirque de Flambe because of its focus on fire. It was awesome! We had so much fun and I can’t wait till Joel forwards me the pictures since I forgot my camera. The rest of my weekend was so quiet. I decided to stay home and that is exactly what I did. I spoke to my friend D. Lorena in Spain, my friend Silvana in Miami and caught up a little bit on my reading and laundry. All in all, a pretty domestic, quiet weekend. Next weekend will be crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109268047882165927?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109268047882165927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109268047882165927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109268047882165927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109268047882165927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/circus.html' title='Circus'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109259788580124875</id><published>2004-08-15T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-15T12:27:14.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/1024/IM002155a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #666666 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #666666 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #666666 1px solid; WIDTH: 346px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #666666 1px solid; HEIGHT: 229px" height="217" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/320/IM002155a.jpg" width="253" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ball and Chain &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed in last night.  In the silence of my home and the wee hours of the morning, I painted this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109259788580124875?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109259788580124875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109259788580124875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109259788580124875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109259788580124875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/ball-and-chain-i-stayed-in-last-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109217583837786282</id><published>2004-08-10T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T15:10:38.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Weekend</title><content type='html'>My Weekend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday:&lt;/strong&gt; I went to work, finished up a few things I had pending and the day flew by. I got out and we all had dinner at my house since it was Julie's last day in Seattle and them we drove her to the airport at around 8. There was such a horrible traffic jam that we didn't get back into the city until 10:30. We all went to sleep pretty early since we were going camping the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday:&lt;/strong&gt; We woke up late (go figure), we lazed around the house until 1pm and then we headed out. The original plan was Joel, Annie and I were gonna go camping to the Cascade Mountains but at last moment we changed plans and decided to go stay at his house in Wenatchee (it was his grandmother's house, but she passed away last year). The drive out there was really nice, we took Highway 2 all the way, which is the most scenic route ever. With a little help from our friendly buddah, we had a really good time. We arrived in Wenatchee, unloaded the car, looked around the house, turned on the water, heater and such and went out for a ride looking for a park that Annie knew from previous day trips to the area. We found it, we sat around, talked, took funny pictures and headed back home. The area is full of orchards so it smells really nice, but on our way back there were so many bugs, the whole Jeep was loaded with them. We went to the store to buy a few necessities and went home to get dressed to go meet Joel's friends at the bar. We han a few drinks at this really nice bar that overlooks the entire town and laughed at all the fools that were dancing. We had bought "Lost in Translation" before going there so when we got home, they made dinner and we got comfortable to watch the movie. Joel was being funny, he was pretty gone, I must say :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday:&lt;/strong&gt; We woke up late (again) and went out for breakfast. There was a little incident were we all got in a bad mood and didn't enjoy breakfast at all. After that, everything was fine so we went home, picked up and headed out. Joel told us about a route that gets us back into Seattle through a very rocky path which takes about three hours so we decided we'd go for it. We first stopped at an Antique store where we got a little carried away and spent like 2 hours there, but it was fine because I found some miniature books for my miniature bookcase. We finally started heading back through the road he told us. Let me tell you something, craziest ride ever. It was so damn dangerous, there were moments were I felt " O.K. , I guess this is how I'm gonna go". There really is no road, you are climbing up high mountains through paths full of rocks and cliffs that if you look make you dizzy. We made it out fine, except for a stupid bee stinging me in my leg. Annie drove all the way until we got to Ellensburg and then I took over. They fell asleep, which was fine with me because I was really enjoying the silence. I literally flew to Seattle. We got home, showered and went to bed. All in all, a great weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday:&lt;/strong&gt; I didn't go to work. I woke up early, cleaned the house and checked my e-mail. I watched T.V. and then called Scott to see if he wanted to do lunch and maybe a movie. I picked him up, we had sushi in Ballard and then went to The Majestic (my favorite theatre in town) and watched "Collateral". The movie was O.K., a little slow for my taste, but worth watching a salt and pepper Tom Cruise. I came home, an hour later Joel and Annie came and we all went to Joel's house to cook dinner. My plan was to to spend my evening painting but since they insisted I go, I took my canvases to his house and he set everything up for me (he's sweet like that). Annie made dinner and I painted. I got a little frustrated at first but towards the end I was happy with how it was coming along. It?s not even close to being done but it's starting to shape up. We ate dinner and went for a little walk. At around 11:30, Annie and I headed home. Pasamos por la casa de K. y no lo vimos. Queriamos ver si estaba su auto pero nada asi que vinimos a casa y al rato volvimos a ir. Esperamos un rato y tal cual era esperado, salio de su casa con la novia. La vimos bien de cerca porque ella, con la amiga, pararon en la gasolinera y la llegamos a ver. Me senti muy mal por Annie porque se que aunque ella diga que no le importa, eso duele. We came home and went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109217583837786282?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109217583837786282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109217583837786282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109217583837786282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109217583837786282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/my-weekend.html' title='My Weekend'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109177159817687659</id><published>2004-08-05T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T22:53:54.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/1024/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #666666 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #666666 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #666666 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #666666 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/320/5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trail view of Diablo Lake &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109177159817687659?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109177159817687659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109177159817687659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109177159817687659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109177159817687659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/trail-view-of-diablo-lake.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109177025038398863</id><published>2004-08-05T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T23:04:57.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/1024/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #666666 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #666666 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #666666 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #666666 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/320/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/1024/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diablo Lake, Washington &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/1024/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Beautiful drive to the mountains. It takes about two and a half hours to get there from Seattle through the Cascade Mountains but it is so worth it. We go camping there a few times a year and the view will always leave me in awe, This time around,it was just a day trip but it was just perfect, sunny and not a cloud in sight. When I go there, I feel like if I could stay forever and times like those make me fall in love with the Pacific Northwest. Here is a little picture of Diablo Lake but to be honest, it does it's magic no justice. I was able to take a walk trough a trails and take pictures, read my book in a place that seems like if it was made for fairies and elves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109177025038398863?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109177025038398863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109177025038398863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109177025038398863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109177025038398863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/diablo-lake-washington-beautiful-drive.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109165434092249612</id><published>2004-08-04T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T14:19:00.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tu conmigo</title><content type='html'>Efimeros instantes de la vida&lt;br /&gt;Que van dejando huellas&lt;br /&gt;Tan cortos y dulces&lt;br /&gt;Tan vivos y locos&lt;br /&gt;tan llenos de ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los años vividos han sido&lt;br /&gt;Nada mas que un preludio&lt;br /&gt;Al anuncio definitivo de&lt;br /&gt;Que en realidad nunca fuiste mio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu conmigo y yo siempre sin ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayer comprendi, mirandonos inmobiles&lt;br /&gt;Que mi vida contigo y sin ti esta llena de vacios&lt;br /&gt;Que los momentos compratidos&lt;br /&gt;En la larga espera de la nada&lt;br /&gt;Eran lo poco y lo unico que quedaria de ti en mi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109165434092249612?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109165434092249612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109165434092249612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109165434092249612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109165434092249612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/tu-conmigo.html' title='Tu conmigo'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109148551902773632</id><published>2004-08-02T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:39:39.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;What have I become?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;my sweetest friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;everyone I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;goes away in the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;you could have it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;my empire of dirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;will let you down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I will make you hurt&lt;br /&gt;(NIN)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y me duele saber que yo tambien fracase. Y ahora comprendo muchas cosas, hoy mucho mas que ayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109148551902773632?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109148551902773632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109148551902773632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109148551902773632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109148551902773632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/what-have-i-become-my-sweetest-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109147478567313233</id><published>2004-08-02T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-02T12:26:25.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Stupid</title><content type='html'>I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And them I wonder why things happen to me… I’m fucking stupid, that is why.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109147478567313233?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109147478567313233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109147478567313233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109147478567313233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109147478567313233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-am-stupid.html' title='I am Stupid'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109120487650205148</id><published>2004-07-30T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-02T09:14:03.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There used to be a very pathetic post here. After some thought, and after opening my page and getting mad at it every time, I decided to erase it.  So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109120487650205148?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109120487650205148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109120487650205148' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109120487650205148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109120487650205148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/there-used-to-be-very-pathetic-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109114318082923687</id><published>2004-07-29T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:40:54.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst day ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Out of life's school of war:&lt;br /&gt;What does not destroy me, makes me stronger.&lt;br /&gt;Friedrich Nietzsche, The Twilight of the Idols (1899)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 21 years old I was going to school in Bolivia. I had chosen my career very carefully and I was happy about my selection. I was doing good, my grades were actually excellent. I was very lucky to have the classmates I had, we built a strong bond that still ties us today even though most of us are spread in different parts of the world. I had a carefree effortless life, until that Saturday came. I had let my brother J. use my car and he had dropped me off at the University (I had a film class on Saturdays). When I came out to wait for him I was very surprised he wasn’t there so immediately I got worried and called home. My sister picked up the phone and gave me the news. My blood went cold, my head started spinning, the noise in the street all of a sudden disappeared and in replacement all I could hear was my little sister’s scared, grave, adult-like voice giving me the news we had feared for 10 years. I hung up and started walking. I knew where my mom was and I knew I had to get there before she got on that plane. I took a cab to the airport and waited. I guess I had gotten there very quickly because nobody in my family was there yet. I remember having this need to talk to somebody and I called my friend Anabel. She told me to calm down, that everything was going to be all right and if I wanted her to come meet me. I said no, and that’s when I saw my mom pull up. She was pale, she had a panic-resigned look in her face. We hardly said two words and she got on the plane. I wished then that I could’ve gone with her but her friend had gotten her the only ticket left, it was a full flight. I went to the counter to buy a ticket for a later time but my grandmother told me to just stay put, that my brothers and sister needed me. God, I wish I could’ve gone…my poor mother. I went home and was so restless, my brothers were laying in my bed quietly, nobody was saying a word that day. The day progressed with us waiting by the phone to get news but nothing came until later on. I decided I need to go so I got in my car and went for a ride. I ended up at Anabel’s house where we sat smoked cigarettes, I talked and she listened.&lt;br /&gt;I had made plans a few weeks earlier to get together with two of my professors that were going to help me with a project I had to present for a final grade in school. The only day they had available was that day, if not I wasn’t going to be able to present my project. Milton, my friend was supposed to come over as well. Milton and I went to pick my professors up from downtown. When we were heading to my house, I stopped at a red light and since I had my eyes full of tears, I thought that maybe, it was a good idea to let everyone in the car know what was happening to my family that day, and that all I wanted was to drop everyone off and head to my house and not deal with anything. I was sure they would understand. I just couldn’t do it that day. As soon as I start telling them, an asshole comes from behind in his big SUV and crashed me really, really hard. The entire back of my car was destroyed, I busted out in tears because I couldn’t believe the magnitude of my day. I cried and I finally let it all out, the entire day’s events came crashing down. Thankfully my professors took care of everything, making sure that the guy that crashed into me wouldn’t leave (he was completely drunk and had fallen asleep behind the wheel) and handled everything for me because I was in shock. I’m normally the type of person that faced with circumstances that require immediate action, don’t panic. That day was different. It was just too much. We ended up at the police station (that’s how things work in my country) and since I requested a D.U.I. for him he requested one for me (I wish I would’ve been drunk, to kick his ass good and proper). He was acting like such a jerk because I had my Florida’s license instead of a Bolivian license, he was practically incoherent but still causing a lot of trouble and driving me insane.&lt;br /&gt;At around 2 in the morning the whole thing was settled. I went home and found my brothers right where I had left them. I felt so terrible (still do) for adding insult to injury, even though it was an accident.&lt;br /&gt;I finally was able to speak to my mom the next day and she gave us more information in what had happened, It was not good.&lt;br /&gt;It’s been 5 years since then and thankfully the nightmare is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I’m sorry I can’t share the details.. it’s just very personal. this post is just for me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109114318082923687?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109114318082923687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109114318082923687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109114318082923687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109114318082923687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/worst-day-ever.html' title='Worst day ever'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109095818599173024</id><published>2004-07-27T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T12:56:25.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blackout</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Don´t it always seem to go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;That you don´t know what you got &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;´til it´s gone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;They paved paradise and put up a parking lot &lt;br /&gt;(Counting Crows)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 15 years old, my friend Francine and I decided that we would not do anything for a year. I had finished my school year and has convinced my parents to let me move to Miami to do my high school years, and because the beginning and ending of the school year differ here and there, I had about 8 months of no school. I was also ahead one year so I decided to take the entire year off and start school late in Miami. For some crazy reason my parents let me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francine decided to quit school altogether and her parents, since they had a lot of money, let her do whatever she wanted.&amp;nbsp; Anyways, we had no responsibilities or curfew, plus we were in Buenos Aires, where kids at a young age go out till the wee hours or not come home at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started to go to this club called "Blackout" and we met a big group of guys that were habitués. Mariano, Fernando, Cuca, Sebastian, Hernan, Harty, Leandro, Walter and a few more, which names unfortunately have left my memory. We would go every Friday and Saturday to the matinee and instead of going home at 1am, which was the time it ended, we would go out to the corner bar, have a few gancias and go back to the club at around 3a.m till 7 or 8 am. We got to know most of the people there. I feel in lust with Mariano, he was older than me but cute as can be. Francine hooked up with Fernando. Every weekend, we would meet up with them at the club, go upstairs to "los reservados" and make out. It was so much fun! The Dj’s name was Felix and he would play the songs that we requested, he even made a tape with all of my favorite songs for me. We danced and smoked cigarettes and drank vodka. At the end of the night, we would dance to the slow songs, ,kicking&amp;nbsp; away the bottles left on the floor. When the morning came, we would go have facturas for breakfast or walk a few blocks to the churros factory. Then we would walk about 30 blocks to Francine’s house or my house, dissect the night and fall asleep till 5 or 6pm. Wake up--- rinse and repeat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did this for almost a year. During the week we would get together with all of the guys and hang out in Gaona y Carranza y Jonte y Avellaneda. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, without notice or warning, Blackout closed down and it was a sad, sad day. We started going to other places, we had fun but never like the Blackout days. Two years later, I went back to Argentina and Francine and I took a walk past our old stomping grounds and we carved our names into the metal boards that covered what used to be our home away from home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109095818599173024?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109095818599173024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109095818599173024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109095818599173024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109095818599173024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/blackout.html' title='Blackout'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109088122880818153</id><published>2004-07-26T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:50:34.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Give it up, do as I say&lt;br /&gt;Give it up and let me have my way&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you love, I'll hit you like a truck&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you love, I'll teach you how to...&lt;br /&gt;(Madonna- Erotica)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les contare de la primera vez que hice el amor. Era el 22 de Julio de 1994, dia de mi cumpleaños numero 18. S. y yo nos conocemos desde que somos chicos pero como el era mayor que yo, nunca lo vi de esa manera. Es mas, habiamos dormido en la misma cama muchismas veces ya que el es mi "primo". Ya! No se asusten! No es mi primo de verdad, solamente de nombre porque mis padres y sus padres son amigos desde la infancia tambien . Estabamos en Miami, pleno verano, Francine me habia venido a visitar de Buenos Aires y termino quedandose por 6 meses. Yo le presente a Ray y ellos se pusieron de novios inmediatamente. Estabamos S., Ray, Francine y yo mirando un partido de football en el departamentito de Ray en Coral Gables. A medio tiempo del partido Francine y Ray se fueron a la habitacion. Yo estaba tomando agua de cuando de pronto me meto un hielo a la boca y S. se da la vuelta para preguntarme algo. Yo le digo con la boca llena "hieeeooo eeeeberaaaaa" (traduccion: "hielo, espera") agarra y me dice "espera que te ayudo" y se viene encima mio y me da un beso de aquellos. Yo quede helada… Me tomo tan de sorpresa que no supe que decir. Pero como he dicho anteriormente aca, yo era una pendeja de lo mas perra (en el mejor sentido de la palabra…). Me empezo a besar y besar y besar y yo agarre viaje.&lt;br /&gt;Yo tenia que irme a mi casa pero termine quedandome hasta como las cinco de la mañana. Pero esperen, falta lo mas importante. Abrimos en sofa cama y nos pusimos a ver una pelicula. Estabamos acostados, yo en shorts y sosten y el completamente desnudo. Empezamos a jugar y a tocarnos, me hacia gozar tan rico…Despues de largo rato se acosto encima mio, me abrio de piernas, me beso y me hizo el amor. Lo hicimos tantas veces esa noche que quede deshecha, a las cinco de la manana nos bañamos y me llevo a mi casa.&lt;br /&gt;Como mis padres le tenian confianza, no me castigaron cuando llegue (estaban despiertos esperandome!) Entro conmigo, desayunamos todos juntos dandonos miradas complices y furtivas, una que otra mano por debajo de la mesa J Por una u otra circunstancia, el termino mudanse a mi casa (keep in mind that he is my cousin supposedly). Continuamos haciendolo donde sea, mis padres se iban los fines de semana a Mexico o a Buenos Aires y yo quedaba sola en casa a cuidado de el. Si supieran cuanto me cuidaba…&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Mom and Dad. I was a very bad girl ;o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109088122880818153?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109088122880818153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109088122880818153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109088122880818153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109088122880818153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/first-time.html' title='First Time'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109086670326325294</id><published>2004-07-26T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-26T11:32:30.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;And I find I kind of funny &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;I find it kind of sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had &lt;br /&gt;(Mad World- Gary Jules)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can still remember dreams I’ve had a child and normally my dreams are very vivid, colorful and sometimes full of senses. I like to think of my dream state as my alternative life, a suspended place and space where I get to experience things that expose me to situations I wish would happen or are afraid of, re-unite me with people and places from my past. My wish for all of you is to remember your dreams and when you wake up from them, take a few seconds to re-live them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109086670326325294?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109086670326325294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109086670326325294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109086670326325294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109086670326325294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109086308486005449</id><published>2004-07-26T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-26T10:31:24.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Date With Myself</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I decided that I would spend they day enjoying the company of me. I had lunch at the Pozzi’s, hung out for a little bit and then decided to take off. I went to the mall, bought myself three sweaters and then browsed around to see what was new. I then headed to Ballard to catch a movie at The Majestic, my favorite movie theater but they were having a street fair and I couldn’t find parking so I headed downtown. I parked my car and walked to the first theater that I knew of and they weren’t showing any good movies so I walked to the other one, a few blocks away. Nothing there either. I was going to head to the University district but figured, what the hell, I’m already here, might as well watch on eof the ones that are being shown here. I got myself a big cup of coffee and decided to walk back to the first theater and bought my ticket to watch "The Notebook". Let me add that I had NEVER been to the movies by myself, but from now on, I will do it more often. The movie was so romantic, so beautiful. It had a "love can last a lifetime" feel to it. &lt;br /&gt;I went home, it was empty and quiet and perfect. I changes into my PJs and smoked a cigarette in the dark while thinking about my life and how I ended up where I’m at right now. I thought and though some more and then, with a smile on face, I told myself "you are where you should be right now".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109086308486005449?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109086308486005449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109086308486005449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109086308486005449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109086308486005449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/date-with-myself.html' title='Date With Myself'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109078180887346384</id><published>2004-07-25T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:51:43.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Background</title><content type='html'>In 1998, I had moved from Argentina back to Bolivia after 12 years of not being in my country except for two visits to my grandparents.  I got there in the middle of Carnaval, on the first day of the actual event.  Man, I alomst got mad at my parents for having "deprived" me of such fun times. My brothers and sister had already been back for a few months. I stayed in Buenos Aires becaues I was still working and mainly, becuase of Charly, my exboyfriend of three years. I broke up with him and quit my job (details on those two things will be a few posts long) and decided to move back home.&lt;br /&gt;The first night that I arrived in Cochabamba, my brother Jorge and his friends took me out to a party. I saw so many people who I had grown up with, went to school with, old neighbors, it was insane! We ended up going to a club a dancing the entire night. The whole weekend was amazing. I wasn't sure if I was gonna stay in Bolivia for long or head back to Buenos Aires to get back with my boyfriend or what.  Now that I think about it, I was only 19 years old and didn't know a damn thing about being on my own. Charly was 30 years old and wanted to get married and start a family. I know now, that it would've been a distaster. Instead, I stayed in Bolivia, signed up for college and got myself a part time job at my elementary school as a pre-kinder teacher assistant. I lived in Bolivia since I was born until I was 12 (interim of moving between Argentina,Miami, Los Angeles and then back to Argentina for 4 years) and then back on Bolivia for 3 years. Then I got married at 23 to the boy that was my boyfriend when I lived in Miami. He came to visit me to and we got married. We then moved to Virginia, then to Miami, then back to Virginia, then finally to Seattle. Whew... that was long. I will elaborate on my stays in all these places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109078180887346384?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109078180887346384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109078180887346384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109078180887346384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109078180887346384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/little-background.html' title='A Little Background'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109069607314183371</id><published>2004-07-24T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T13:00:07.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Marianita</title><content type='html'>My little sister Mariana is something else.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I love her so much. It's her birthday today and she is in my thoughts. I wish I could be with her today and tell her how awesome she is, how pretty and smart and wonderful I think she is.&amp;nbsp; She's studying to become a lawyer and I know that she will exceed any expectations as she tends to do. &lt;br /&gt;when she was little,&amp;nbsp;I remember walking her to school, she was so tiny... the winters in Argentina were bitter and very windy. She was so little that I -honest to God- had to hold her hand super hard because she wouldn't be able to advance from the wind.&amp;nbsp; I remember her laying in bed with me and imitating a talk show host , Laura en America, and having laughing attacks, as well as fart competitions! Ha!! Too funny. She's awesome and I simply adore her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109069607314183371?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109069607314183371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109069607314183371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109069607314183371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109069607314183371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/ode-to-marianita.html' title='Ode to Marianita'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109065077114045586</id><published>2004-07-23T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-30T09:30:00.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still</title><content type='html'>I wrote a post about how pist off and aggravated I feel right now but I decided to erase it because after I was done, I realized I didn't have one good reason to feel the way I was feeling. It was just me being a brat.&amp;nbsp; It's about 90 degrees right now, which is very unusual for Seattle and maybe it was just the heat making me grouchy.&amp;nbsp; I think it might be that, or the fact that I'm missing him like crazy and I wish&amp;nbsp;I could hold him right now, and kiss him and tell him "let's just forget about everything and start over" but I know that it's not going to happen and that it is completely over between us.&amp;nbsp; I had a dream that he was hugging me and we were so close, and it felt so right.&amp;nbsp; I wonder if I'll ever stop thinking about him and I wonder if one day, maybe, we can reach out and rediscover each other.&amp;nbsp; I know it's not right, he hurt me so much... but for some reason I still love him. He's still my monkey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109065077114045586?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109065077114045586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109065077114045586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109065077114045586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109065077114045586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/still.html' title='Still'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109060741619304290</id><published>2004-07-23T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-30T09:31:01.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebration </title><content type='html'>I had a really nice birthday yesterday. I went home early and when I walked in, there were a lot of balloons and Annie’s gift to me in the living room. She gave me my favorite perfume (Amarige). A little while after, Joel arrived bringing me all kinds of awesome stuff. He gave me canvasaes to paint ( I had told him I wanted to start painting), an esol and acrylic paints and brushes. They also gave me a very cute card. Oh, and I can’t forget… They bought tickets for us to see The Cure at The Gorge Amphitheater in August!! How cool are my friends? Scott arrived a little later bringing me a very nice bottle of Vodka and cranberry juice. We showered and got ready and headed out to dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They decided thay wanted to take me to Daniel’s Broiler. We had the best steaks EVER! Oh my god, I cannot even describe the food there, i'll just sday that each steak was almost 40 dollars and the whole dinner&amp;nbsp;ended up being almost&amp;nbsp;$300 dollars ( the only reason I mention this, even though I hate talking about how much things cost, is becuase&amp;nbsp;my friends are way too cool). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;We also had drinks and Joel asked the piano man to sing "Spanish Eyes" for me, which he twisted it for "Bolivian Eyes". It was so sweet. We dropped Scott off at home and the three of us remaining went to my house were we decided to listen to music, draw with pastels and talk for a while. I’m so happy that they did all of that for me. It was very sweet and thoughtful of all of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annie’s mom gets here today to stay for two weeks with us. It’ll be fun to have her. Oh, I was forgetting… when I got home, I went to my room and Karen and the girls had left me an autographed book with some drawings that the girls had made for me. They are now being displayed in my fridge. They are beautiful! I cannot wait till this weekend, when I can start messing around with my canvases. Thanks guys! I love you too. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109060741619304290?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109060741619304290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109060741619304290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109060741619304290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109060741619304290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/celebration.html' title='Celebration '/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-109052117358178737</id><published>2004-07-22T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T21:43:41.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;El día que tu naciste&lt;br /&gt;Nacieron todas las flores&lt;br /&gt;Y en la pila del bautizo cantaron los ruiseñores&lt;br /&gt;Ya viene amaneciendo&lt;br /&gt;Ya la luz del dia nos dió&lt;br /&gt;Levantate de mañana&lt;br /&gt;Mira que ya amaneció&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Las Mañanitas)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I turn 28 years old. I really has taken me by surprise. It’s not that I feel old, I just feel like time has passed by too fast. I can still remember being in Miami blowing 18 candles and thinking 30 was a far far thing in the future. But now, here I am, 10 years later wondering where is the girl I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year’s birthday sucked ass so bad, I spent it in bed crying all afternoon long because Francis had forgotten it completely and didn’t even pick me up at work, I  had to walk for a long time to get home and when I finally did, as I walked in he picked a fight and was being a total jerk . As I was driving in to work this morning I thought to myself "why on earth would I still think or miss a guy like that,  big mystery. Anyways, I’m feeling a little sensitive today, missing my family and wishing I was with them.&lt;br /&gt;I hope my day improves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-109052117358178737?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/109052117358178737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=109052117358178737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109052117358178737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/109052117358178737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to me'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108940091069649407</id><published>2004-07-09T12:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-09T12:21:50.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fahrenheit 9/11 and other things</title><content type='html'>I went to the movies last night to watch Fahrenheit 9/11 by Michael Moore.  Excellent documentary with lots of information about, to my opinion, very well organized.  I sat for almost three hours in awe and amazement.  I’m not gonna sit here and go into my opinions about certain aspects of the movie, but I will say is that YOU should go see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend will be a quiet one, I think.  I don’t have any plans and will probably try to stay indoors watching movies or reading.  I have been spending way too much money lately, so movies and books it is.  Can’t wait!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, sometimes I go to bed after taking a shower late at night and every time I do that, I can’t wake up in the mornings.  I think it might relax me too much. Ok, I’m blabbing. I’ll go for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108940091069649407?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108940091069649407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108940091069649407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108940091069649407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108940091069649407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/fahrenheit-911-and-other-things.html' title='Fahrenheit 9/11 and other things'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108915244546990560</id><published>2004-07-06T15:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-30T09:31:32.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Die</title><content type='html'>If you demand the truth I will lie &lt;br /&gt;If you request my presence I will turn around immediately &lt;br /&gt;If you are sinking I will push you further &lt;br /&gt;I will let you die &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if you untangle me just one more time &lt;br /&gt;Then I will convulse in truth &lt;br /&gt;and I will stay a while &lt;br /&gt;I will reach out and never let you go &lt;br /&gt;If you just say you love me one more time &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s never easy &lt;br /&gt;There is an abyss in love time &lt;br /&gt;Where we wander like ghosts &lt;br /&gt;You and I dressed in white &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live with me in that undiscovered space &lt;br /&gt;Never let me go outside your life &lt;br /&gt;Haunt me, chase me, shelter me &lt;br /&gt;Come and stay for a while &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108915244546990560?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108915244546990560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108915244546990560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108915244546990560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108915244546990560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/die.html' title='Die'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108913941369943076</id><published>2004-07-06T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T21:41:35.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence Day</title><content type='html'>Words will not do my weekend justice but I will attempt to tell you all about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1: We left Seattle Friday night at around 7pm. Headed to Ocean Shores, WA. (Scott, Joel, Annie and I). We stopped for dinner at at BBQ place where we ate really good food and then continued our trip. We arrived at Scott’s parents at around 11pm and stopped in for a few to say hi and blow some fireworks with the two little boys that his mom takes care of. Then we headed to the outskirts of the town to Scott’s sister’s house and set camp in their yard. After we were done, we headed into town to buy some beer. We were all really tired, so we went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2: We woke up relatively early with Annie screaming and yelling that she needed to pee and that she didn’t want to go into Scott sister’s house. We all got up and went in to say hi and take showers. We headed into town, directly to the town’s picnic where we enjoyed massive amounts of food and sun. Scott’s mom had cooked a lot of food and we sat there talking and taking pictures. I was amazed at how wonderful Scott is with children. He will be a very good dad someday. At around 2pm we headed to the port to catch the ferry into Westport. Rinky dinky beach town which has a few shops and restaurants but a very cool natural aquarium. We spent some time there looking at the starfish and sea cucumbers. Annie and I separated from the guys to go get some ice cream while they went searching for a bar. We ended up losing them and finally after a while found them sitting in a bench, Joel: beer in hand. Scott: mad as hell. Scott and I headed back to the Ferry while they stayed behind. I had a talk with Scott about him expecting people to jump at his beckon call. The trip back was nice, we saw some baby seals and a very cute All-American boy in a tank top. We got into town in very good spirits, so we decided to hit the local bars! Scott taught me how to play chess and I beat his ass, then we went to another bar where we had more drinks, the third bar was at the Polynesian Hotel where we had lots of appetizers, great conversation&lt;br /&gt;and lots of drinks. We were pretty wasted so we went back to the tents and slept like babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3: 4th of July!! We woke up and went to breakfast with Scott’s sister. It was actually lunch because try getting 4 hungover people out of the house in time (plus Scott’s sister). We had a really good lunch (we ate so much food throughout the whole trip!) and then headed to the movies. We watched Spiderman 2, where Scott shed a few tears, hehehe. After the movie, we went to the arcade and engaged in a dumb water bumping cars race. We did get awesome pictures of it. Oh, I was forgetting, we went to the casino and gambled for a while before all of this. Afterwards, we dropped off Scott’s sister at home, got ready and headed to the hotel where Scott’s parents were staying for the week. The room they had was right on the beach with an excellent view of the fireworks. I cannot even begin to explain how many people were out there lighting up fireworks. The beach at Ocean Shores is one of the only ones in the world where it is still allowed to drive on the beach, so it was crazy to say the least. We ate dinner with them and had some drinks. We waited until the sun came down and we walked down to the beach and joined the craziness. We had a really good time even though it was very dangerous since it was a bunch of rednecks in big ole trucks haphazardly lighting up rockets. Scott fell in a hole and it was damn hilarious. We made it out of the beach safe but a pretty drunk. We walked a few miles back to the car and then went on a ride. It was pretty late abut I can honestly say it was one of my funnest moments of the entire trip. Scott tried to hug a deer, we were being followed by a white junky car and I was singing of the top of my lungs. We went back to the house and pulled out the tequila bottle and did some shots. We had so much fun. We lost Scott somewhere along the way. We found him passed out in the tent, snoring like a bear passed out. We have footage of that, thanks to Joel and his camcorder. We all went to sleep Joel and Annie in their tent and Scott and I in ours. In the middle of the night I heard Scott trying to get out and he was really having a hard time since he was pretty wasted. Well, to make a long story short, he ended up getting confused and sleeping in the other tent thinking he was in my tent. It was very funny. You had to be there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 4: We woke up and lounged for hours. We went to lunch and them said good-bye to the family. We headed back to Seattle and got stuck in traffic but it was a fun ride back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I had a wonderful weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108913941369943076?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108913941369943076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108913941369943076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108913941369943076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108913941369943076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/independence-day.html' title='Independence Day'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108870081598893541</id><published>2004-07-01T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-01T09:53:35.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stuff</title><content type='html'>I ran into Karl yesterday.  He looked so thin and different.It was weird seeing him. As always, he was in some sort of mission becuase someone had broken intohis partment and stolen a bunch of his stuff.  I ran into him on 4th and Cherry and we walked together a few blocks down.  I'm happy Annie is no longer with him, he's still the same loser.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I asked Joel to let me borrow his VCR so that we can watch some old home videos that Annie had of us in Miami.  They were hilarious! I saw myslef at 16 years old and it was crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I’m counting the hours till the weekend, it’ll be fun.  Yesterday Scott wrote me an e-mail asking me to please make sure Annie and Joel are in bed at a decent time on Friday because we are heading out Saturday at around 10am and. He thinks I’m responsible, how confused he is…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about Scott, I just love that boy.  He’s so fucking funny, smart, nice and interesting.  It’s too bad I’m never marrying again because if not, I’d ask him to marry me (jk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108870081598893541?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108870081598893541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108870081598893541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108870081598893541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108870081598893541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/07/stuff.html' title='stuff'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108854842229526333</id><published>2004-06-29T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T13:02:23.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fun times</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was great! Friday night after work Annie, Joel and I went out to dinner to a pizza place in First Hill and then headed back to his apartment. We were hanging out, having excellent conversation when next thing you know, it is 10 am! Hee. Wow, that was weird. I tried to sleep and couldn't, you know how that goes. At 6p.m. I decided to head home, Annie, Kiernen and Joel went to a concert at Seattle Center so I decided to spend some alone time. I tried going to sleep but the phone kept on ringing then finally around 12pm I went to bed. Sunday morning Scott called early and I went to pick him up. Annie and Joel wanted breakfast and we wanted to go to a few garage sales so we arranged to meet up later. Scott and I went to a Mexican restaurant in Magnolia and found a few good garage sales before meeting up with Annie and Joel. We finally did, and at around 4:30 we headed to Joel's place for some drinks and roof top view. The view is amazing! You can see the entire city and Puget Sound. We stayed up there until the sun came down and then went inside. We ended up having one of the best times I have had a in a long long time. We got to singing, faking orgasms and laughing until my face hurt. Joel was playing the piano like a mad scientist, Scott had the microphone at first and next thing you know, it is a full on party of four. We were all pretty drunk and things got real fucking funny. At around 1am we head home and realize that Joel had forgotten his car at my house so we go inside to call him and let him no he wouldn't have a ride to work tomorrow. That's when my heart sank. Francis had left me a note at my door saying he had stopped by to see me and that he needed to talk to me and to please call him at work. I didn't know hat to think or do, &amp;nbsp;so I did nothing. I went to sleep. Yesterday afternoon he e-mailed me and again, I didn't do anything. I just wonder what it is that he wants from me. Why won't he let me move on and stop being so selfish with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, this coming weekend is 4th of July long weekend so Joel, Annie, Scott and I are heading to Ocean Shores for a weekend full of fun, beers and who knows... I'll remember to post when we get back and let you know all about it. I plan on having the time of my life since last year's 4th of July was a miserable one for me. Things have changed!! Hell yeahhhhhhhhh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108854842229526333?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108854842229526333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108854842229526333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108854842229526333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108854842229526333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/06/fun-times.html' title='fun times'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108821360667903743</id><published>2004-06-25T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-30T09:31:58.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuentito</title><content type='html'>Bajaba la ventana y la volvia a subir, luego de un rato, la vovia a bajar. Miraba hacia afuera pensando en esta noche interminable, insomne, densa. Al escuchar los ruidos de la cuidad cercana, le entumecian sus fantasmas, esos ruidos que durante tanto tiempo infaliblemente lo amacaban hacia un sueño profundo, ahora lo mantenian despierto y alerta. Como aquel dicho que dicen los perseguidos "dormir con un ojo abierto", como la ansiedad de saberse solo e interminable, pasaba el tiempo sin rumbo final y sin afan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esa noche, noche como pocas, igual que la anterior pero diferente, fantaseaba con ella, la sentia cerca, si pensarlo y menos decirlo, la esperaba, la sabia. Llenaba sus pulmones de aire tibio y la extrañaba. Cerrando los ojos la recordo desnuda y dormida en aquel amanecer de septiembre cuando todavia las promesas estaban vivas y el amor habia recientemente retoñado. El vivia para observarla, mirando su pecho extenderse, ni suspiraba por miedo a que cualquier moviemiento en falso interrumpieran aquella perfeccion, la de su sueños, ella, &lt;br /&gt;la de sus sueños. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extendiose la noche como era esperado y sabiendose inutil, dejo que sus ojos descansen. Leve razon la de su existir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108821360667903743?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108821360667903743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108821360667903743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108821360667903743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108821360667903743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/06/cuentito.html' title='Cuentito'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108630155658980951</id><published>2004-06-03T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T21:19:54.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Garotos</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Estórias pra contar&lt;br /&gt;De um tempo perdido na imaginação&lt;br /&gt;Coisas pra esquecer&lt;br /&gt;E certas lembranças que eu quero guardar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que aburrimiento, por Dios! Estoy sentada en frente de la pantalla, sin hacer absolutamente nada, no tengo ganas de trabajar, tengo sueño, recien son las 11:30 de la mañana y falta mucho para las 5:30 de la tarde. Tengo que encontrar la manera de que pase este dia rapido asi que creo que voy a estar escribiendo bastante hoy. Mi mente anda fantaseando ultimamente, lo cual me acaba de disparar recuerdos de mi vacacion en 1992.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando yo tenia 15 años fui de vaciones a Florianopolis, Santa Catarina (Brazil) con mi amiga Francine y su familia. Tomamos la ruta en el Puegot 504 gris rumbo a Uruguay, Final Destination: Floripa. El viaje fue largo, pero valio la pena porque nos esperaba 2 meses de vagancia, cigarrillos, tragos, chicos lindos, playa, compras, una casa en la playa y muchas otras cosas mas. La primer noche dormimos en Uruguay, en la frontera con Brasil. El hotel en el que nos quedamos fue el primero que encontramos ya que llegamos tarde y el pueblito estaba lleno (tax free area). Esa noche dormimos con las ventanas abiertas, hacia tanto calor!! Los mosquitos se dieron un festin, entraba el ruido de la calle y los bares, la cama de sabanas blancas era como una canoa, hundida en el medio, pero nada era importante, solo que estabamos de vacaciones, teniamos 15 años y teniamos la vida por delante. Cuando amanecio, continuamos viaje rumbo a Santa Catarina. Cuando anochecio, quedaban como 2 horas para llegar a la isla y el auto decido no andar mas. Un testigo de Jehova que iba en la direcion opuesta nos socorrio y nos llevo hasta la puerta de la casa que habiamos alquilado. Increible el jesto del señor. Esa noche empezo la que fue una de las mejores vacaciones de mi vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habia una bodega a una cuadra de la casa y ahi conoci a Ailton…tendria unos 30 años, bronceado, ojos verdes, tipico brasilero lindoooo esa noche hicimos un double date con Francine a la cual enganchamos con Renato, el primo de Ailton, un feo de aquellos (ella me debia un favor:)) caminamos por la playa, me dio un millon de besos, uno mas rico que otro. Salimos un par de veces mas hasta que el viejo dueño de la bodega me informo que Ailton era casado y tenia hijos. Como explicar los dias que le siguieron a la noticia… estuve tirada en la hamaca toda triste hasta que aparecio Carlos, el hippie de la playa que hacia las trenzitas y los dreads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguien lo trajo para que nos haga trenzitas en el pelo y zaz! Flechazo! El le dijo a Alejandra que gostaba muito de mi. El era mulato, hijo de aleman con negra, tenia los ojos azules como el cielo y el pelo largo largo tipo rasta, era hermoso!!! Ese dia no paso nada, una que otra mirada y una sonrisita por aqui y otra por alla. A los dos dias me lo encontre una tarde en Canasvieiras, la playa que quedaba ahi nomas de la casa. Estaba yo sentada con Francine en las piedras que separabas Canasvieiras y Sobaco das Cobras, el sol estaba bajando y lo vi. Se sento al lado mio y nos pregunto si queriamos ir con el a la playa nudista, yo por supuesto dije que si y Francine, porque no era boluda y era buena onda, dijo que se iba a la casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empezamos a subir la montaña y finalmente llegamos a la playa nudista. No habia un ser, nadie mas que el y yo. Se desnudo y se metio al agua. Estvimos un rato largo ahi, y luego me dio que me queria llevar a un lugar especial ( imaginate la tarada de 15, re confiada) y yo le dije “o.k”, me podria haber dicho tiremons del precipicio y yo estaba tan enbobada que seguro le decia “o.k”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me llevo por unas piedras, hacia una cueva, que cuando entramos se abria, y habia una laguna chiquita la cual estaba llena de flores flotando(juro que es verdad!!). No se como explicarlo, pero era definitivamente el lugar mas magico de mundo Era todo tan romantico, especialmente para mi que era virgen, que todo lo que vivia era nuevo y excitante. Me acosto en una piedra y me empezo a besar y tocar, y se acosto encima mio. Fue la primera vez que sentia a un hombre duro, el era enorme ( y no lo digo porque era la primera vez que lo sentia, sino de verdad era grande). Ma acuerdo cuanto me calento el tipo, mi mente iba a mil por hora y me besaba y me tocaba… Lo deje bajar y hacerme lo que quisiera con su boca. Lo hizo por largo rato, lo cual yo disfrute tanto! No tenia la mas palida idea que los hombres le hacian eso a las mujeres… El me dijo que nunca habia estado con una virgen…@@!$%%$#% fuck! Me dije yo. Y me empeze a poner nerviosa, porque loca era, pero no tanto hehe. En fin, no lo deje, lo deje bien caliente yo no lo deje. El se porto bien, me acompaño a mi casa y se fue. Lo vi un par de veces mas pero no deje que pase nanda mas que un par de besitos. Recuerdo ese dia como un de los mejores dias de mi vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi vacacion fue larga, pasraon muchas cosas, pero tengo que dejar de escribir ahora. Continuo con mas historias en otra oportunidad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108630155658980951?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108630155658980951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108630155658980951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108630155658980951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108630155658980951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/06/garotos.html' title='Garotos'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108611377775375111</id><published>2004-06-01T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-30T09:32:15.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poema</title><content type='html'>Te lo debo todo a ti &lt;br /&gt;Lo que tanto querias que sea &lt;br /&gt;Aquella que nunca fui &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te lo debo todo a ti &lt;br /&gt;Aquella mañana de otoño &lt;br /&gt;Aquellos sonidos que di &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te dedico mi vida &lt;br /&gt;la que vivi a traves de ti &lt;br /&gt;Aquellas manias, te las regalo &lt;br /&gt;te las debo todas a ti… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108611377775375111?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108611377775375111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108611377775375111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108611377775375111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108611377775375111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/06/poema.html' title='Poema'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108611322108349322</id><published>2004-06-01T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T11:07:01.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fade</title><content type='html'>Breathing your scent&lt;br /&gt;Tasting your breath&lt;br /&gt;Sensing my fear&lt;br /&gt;You fade away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget your harm&lt;br /&gt;It dissipates &lt;br /&gt;Every time you reach inside &lt;br /&gt;And pull my veins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost it, feelings of ending&lt;br /&gt;Beginning closed&lt;br /&gt;Mouth closed, eyes shut&lt;br /&gt;Dripping blood all around&lt;br /&gt;You gave it away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108611322108349322?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108611322108349322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108611322108349322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108611322108349322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108611322108349322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/06/fade.html' title='Fade'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108606612005169460</id><published>2004-05-31T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-31T22:04:29.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/640/fetish%20women.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/252/1043/320/fetish%20women.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fetish&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed out to Portland Saturday afternoon (Jenna, Terry, Corey, Annie and I) and check into the Kennedy School Hotel around 5:30pm. We got ready and headed out to the Bachelor/Bachelorette party for Franz and Basha (Jenna's friends). &lt;br /&gt;First stop: Mary's Club. Stipper joint, beautiful women, horny men.&lt;br /&gt;Second Stop: Piazza Italia. Excellent food, lots of people (about 50 in our party), italian men and good conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Third Stop: Fetish Party somewhere in the seedy part of town. Whips, women with big titties and fire. Crazy!&lt;br /&gt;Fourth and last stop: Hotel, Stripper Boy, Terry on mushrooms, hotel cop. &lt;br /&gt;Went to sleep around 6am after a long fun night.&lt;br /&gt;No complaints on this end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108606612005169460?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108606612005169460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108606612005169460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108606612005169460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108606612005169460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/05/fetish-we-headed-out-to-portland.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108282338289779079</id><published>2004-04-24T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-24T09:33:51.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Surprise!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was one of the best days I have has in along long time. I woke up and took my sweet ass time to get to work, when I got there our server was down so nobody was  working, just talking away. At 11am Ann, Erin, Mike F., Mandi, Peter, Chad and I took of for lunch. We  took the metro tunnel into Westlake and went to PF Changs. The food was amazing as well as the conversation. At 1pm we were done but Erin and I stayed behind and decided to go shopping. At  almost  3pm we got back to  work to find that the server was still down, so more bullshiting until it was 5pm. Oh,   David   gave me an awesome book as a gift. &lt;br /&gt;In a very good mood, I came  home and took a shower, got ready and waited for Annie.She and Marcelo got here and we went out to dinner to TGI Friday's. I took off from there to Ann's house in Edmonds becuase supposedly she had a little get together with some friends to introduce a new cosmetic line. So I get there and  oh my god! I was a surprise good-bye party for me!!! Every single woman from work was there, even some friends that no longer work there. It was amazing, first surprise party ever. I got some gifts and got a little drunk, enjoyed myself the  entire time I was there and then came home and fell asleep. I'm going shoppong today!!&lt;br /&gt;I know this entry sound like a 14 years old diary but oh well, tough shit :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108282338289779079?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108282338289779079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108282338289779079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108282338289779079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108282338289779079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/04/surprise-yesterday-was-one-of-best.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108256171871659572</id><published>2004-04-21T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T08:39:42.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ultimamente he estado leyendo varios blogs, algunos que  frequento desde hace ya bastante y otrosacabo de descubir. Cuanto me gustaria tener la capacidad de poder escribir mejor, de que todos los dias tenga algo nuevo que contar aca. Lo que me pasa mucho es que en el transcurso del dia,se me presentar muchos pensamientos e ideas de cosas que que pueden llegar a ser un post, pero una vez que me siento delante de la pantalla, no se me ocurre nada! &lt;br /&gt;Me siento tan poco creativa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108256171871659572?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108256171871659572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108256171871659572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108256171871659572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108256171871659572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/04/ultimamente-he-estado-leyendo-varios.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108187405486660672</id><published>2004-04-13T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T08:40:45.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This past weekend Annie and I took a ride out to the mountains, to Snoqualmie Falls. It was a beautiful day up here in the Pacific Northwest, warm and sunny, the trees were all in bloom and the skies were clear through and through. &lt;br /&gt;On days like that, I find myself thinking about my childhood, about those days were things were simple, thinking and remembering things vividly, like if it hasn’t been that long, things I used to do and smells that invade my sense and still awaken something in me. Remembering little things that bring my joy.&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing like the feeling of opening the window, letting the breeze hit you in the face, while the images in the corner of your eye fade away and blend into one green or brown trail. Then you stick out your whole arm, open your hand, you do waves and catch the air.&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing like that feeling to me on a warm, sunny afternoon with no worries on my mind and many reasons for being happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108187405486660672?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108187405486660672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108187405486660672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108187405486660672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108187405486660672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/04/this-past-weekend-annie-and-i-took.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108158654053619466</id><published>2004-04-10T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-10T01:45:06.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just got back from Muleady's (sp?) after a fun night of beers and interesting conversation with Scott. I can honsestly say that life in the past few months has been really good and I have been meeting people and feeling a lot like my old self. I even decided to stay in Seattle for a while, and I say "even" becuase I was literally with my bags almost packed but fuck that... I can't live my live running away every time things get rough and i'm faced with problems. I'm a grown up now and whatever problems I have now will not go away until I take charge and face them head on and do something about it. I have decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and for what has happened. In the end, I was crying over something and somene that wasn't worth it. &lt;br /&gt;So...  life is alright and I ain't gonna die. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108158654053619466?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108158654053619466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108158654053619466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108158654053619466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108158654053619466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/04/i-just-got-back-from-muleadys-sp-after.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5615279.post-108076773216957228</id><published>2004-03-31T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-31T13:18:09.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yahoo!</title><content type='html'>Que nervios!! Acabo de salir de mi entrevista con la Ciudad de Seattle. Si consigo este trabajo me muero! (Bueno, no me muero... per si que estaria re-contenta).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5615279-108076773216957228?l=karenonceagain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/feeds/108076773216957228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5615279&amp;postID=108076773216957228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108076773216957228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5615279/posts/default/108076773216957228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenonceagain.blogspot.com/2004/03/yahoo.html' title='Yahoo!'/><author><name>Karen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
