<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502</id><updated>2009-04-01T11:57:07.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a time...</title><subtitle type='html'>Just some of my daily thoughts...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-114104363015383961</id><published>2006-02-27T04:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T04:33:50.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La ironía de la vida</title><content type='html'>We all want to believe that life is fair, that work and effort gives back wealth and satisfaction, that love gives back love. Well it is never late to admit, that that is not always the case. Maybe we love people that don´t want to be loved, maybe we work restless on something that is not going anywhere...maybe life is just nonsense, and maybe, that is what is suppossed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am going to quit telling people what makes me sad, I am going to quit telling people what I want, I am going to quit getting mad, I am going to quit accepting, I am going to quit resigning, I am going to quit crying...Instead, I am going to start living from the inside to the outsiide.&lt;br /&gt;N.-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-114104363015383961?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/114104363015383961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=114104363015383961' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/114104363015383961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/114104363015383961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2006/02/la-irona-de-la-vida.html' title='La ironía de la vida'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-114103907871533722</id><published>2006-02-27T03:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T03:17:58.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trafficjam</title><content type='html'>Isn´t it scary? isn´t it scary how thoughts come to our minds like heavy traffic, and we don´t have time to process them? Then they all seem to jam at a point where my head doens´t have the time to process them anymore, or she is just too tired to do anything. Isn´t it scary how thoughts are so difficult to control? And yet, I am aware all the ideas are controllable and changeable...but what it takes to do that, scapes my capability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N.-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-114103907871533722?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/114103907871533722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=114103907871533722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/114103907871533722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/114103907871533722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2006/02/trafficjam.html' title='Trafficjam'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-112471888021816381</id><published>2005-08-22T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T07:00:38.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of curiosity...</title><content type='html'>So...I was curious about how would ever anyone find my blog on the internet, so I inserted one of those trackers, look at what people who come visit, look for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last 20 Searchengine Queries&lt;br /&gt;Unique Visitors&lt;br /&gt;06 Aug, Sat, 04:05:49&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=+QUE+SIGNIFICA+NATALIA&amp;FORM=QBRE"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: QUE SIGNIFICA NATALIA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08 Aug, Mon, 19:30:53&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?srch_type=0&amp;amp;q=the+perfect+guy&amp;first=11&amp;amp;FORM=PERE"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: the perfect guy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09 Aug, Tue, 14:30:49&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.es/results.aspx?CP=1252&amp;q=Natalia&amp;amp;first=61&amp;FORM=PERE5"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: Natalia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Aug, Wed, 00:29:48&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.latam.msn.com/results.aspx?srch=105&amp;amp;FORM=AS5&amp;q=farandula+internacinal"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: farandula internacinal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Aug, Wed, 07:51:17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?FORM=MSNH&amp;amp;srch_type=0&amp;q=how+to+say+good+bye+to+someone"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: how to say good bye to someone&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Aug, Wed, 23:55:19&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=Menor%20que%20tu%20Unknown%20Artist&amp;amp;FORM=AB2&amp;lang=es-US"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: Menor que tu Unknown Artist&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11 Aug, Thu, 18:56:33&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.asp?cp=1252&amp;amp;q=lechuga+china&amp;first=31&amp;amp;FORM=PERE3"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: lechuga china&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 Aug, Fri, 05:50:07&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.yahoo.com/search?p=AMiGAS+Y+ivan%27s&amp;sp=1&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;ei=UTF-8&amp;fl=0&amp;amp;fr=FP-tab-web-t&amp;SpellState=n-1127188281_q-47usfOHeleWIUmvRwTkjegABAA%40%40"&gt;Yahoo&lt;/a&gt;: AMiGAS Y ivan's&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 Aug, Sat, 04:10:29&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.ninemsn.com.au/results.aspx?q=make+a+perfect+guy&amp;amp;FORM=QBRE"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: make a perfect guy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 Aug, Sat, 22:37:40&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=friend+talking+about+me&amp;FORM=QBRE"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: friend talking about me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 Aug, Mon, 02:41:59&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=the+perfect+guy&amp;amp;first=11&amp;FORM=PERE"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: the perfect guy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 Aug, Wed, 07:26:17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=How+to+say+Good-bye&amp;amp;first=21&amp;FORM=PERE2"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: How to say Good-bye&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 Aug, Wed, 07:27:54&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=How+to+say+Good-bye&amp;amp;first=21&amp;FORM=PERE2"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: How to say Good-bye&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18 Aug, Thu, 05:52:46&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&amp;amp;p=bloqueo+emocional&amp;xargs=0&amp;amp;pstart=1&amp;fr=FP-pull-web-t&amp;amp;b=11"&gt;Yahoo&lt;/a&gt;: bloqueo emocional&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 Aug, Fri, 12:16:13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.es/spresults.aspx?q=como+ser+simp%c3%a1tico&amp;first=11&amp;amp;count=10&amp;FORM=POPR"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: como ser simpÃ¡tico&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 Aug, Fri, 20:06:43&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://www.google.es/search?q=procrastinaci%C3%B3n&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;lr=&amp;amp;start=100&amp;sa=N"&gt;Google&lt;/a&gt;: procrastinaciÃ³n&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 Aug, Fri, 20:10:44&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://ar.search.yahoo.com/search?p=blog+sexo&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;toggle=1&amp;ei=UTF-8&amp;amp;meta=all%3D1&amp;fl=0&amp;amp;all=1&amp;fr=FP-tab-web-t&amp;amp;b=151"&gt;Yahoo&lt;/a&gt;: blog sexo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 Aug, Sun, 04:45:48&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?srch_type=0&amp;q=how+to+say+good+bye&amp;amp;first=21&amp;FORM=PERE2"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: how to say good bye&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 Aug, Sun, 23:41:14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://search.t1msn.com.mx/results.aspx?cp=1252&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;PI=9564&amp;DI=233&amp;amp;FORM=MSNH&amp;q=idas+para+pinatas"&gt;MSN Search&lt;/a&gt;: idas para pinatas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22 Aug, Mon, 02:58:30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bb" href="http://espanol.search.yahoo.com/search?p=blog+parejas+intercambio&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;ei=UTF-8&amp;fr=FP-tab-web-t&amp;amp;fl=1&amp;vc=&amp;amp;vl=lang_es&amp;amp;amp;amp;x=wrt&amp;amp;meta=vl%3Dlang_es"&gt;Yahoo&lt;/a&gt;: &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;blog parejas intercambio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I write something about how WRONG I think that is, and then, someone looking for that, finds my blog????, OMG...so funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-112471888021816381?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/112471888021816381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=112471888021816381' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/112471888021816381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/112471888021816381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/08/out-of-curiosity.html' title='Out of curiosity...'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-112298522156776223</id><published>2005-08-02T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T05:20:21.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Actitud vital</title><content type='html'>Actitud vital, visualización de metas, objetivos....inmovilismo, procrastinación. Dónde nuestros padres decían "te hacen falta dos bofetadas" ahora decimos..."te hace falta un psicólogo que te ayude", donde antes nos decían "eres un vago" ahora tenemos "un bloqueo emocional", gracias a Dios que han cambiado los términos, porque desde luego prefiero la denominación actual, jejeje.&lt;br /&gt;Como los deportistas que no desarrollan todo su potencial, del mismo modo, nosotros caemos en la procrastinación, patólogica en mi caso, y leve en la mayoría de los casos, y no alcanzamos nuestro potencial intelectual y profesional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este proceso autodestructivo, que arrastro hace años, después de que la anorexia y la autodestrucción física no surtiera efecto (menos mal!), es incluso peor por lo lento de su efecto, y su omnipresencia. El escaparse de todos los problemas, olvidarlos y taparlos, el nunca estar en el aquí y en el ahora. Lo único bueno de este proceso autodestructivo es que mientras hay vida hay esperanza, y en el caso de la anorexia, la vida misma se apaga. Y que,  según los psicólogos tiene solución.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si lo único que hace es que no trabajes, o que no ganes dinero, o que no te desarrolles profesionalmente, te hace infeliz, pero no te mata de desnutrición ni arruinas a tu familia por la ludopatía, o te bebes la herencia en barras de alterne...pues me considero casi afortunada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eso sí, me come por dentro, y me hace infeliz, está claro que hay que arreglarlo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N.-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-112298522156776223?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/112298522156776223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=112298522156776223' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/112298522156776223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/112298522156776223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/08/actitud-vital.html' title='Actitud vital'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-111961868526139619</id><published>2005-06-24T05:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T06:11:25.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A propósito de las discusiones de sobremesa...</title><content type='html'>A ver, después de la super conversación...y de las confesiones del Morgan sobre el intercambio de parejas...ehem, quiero dejar clara mi postura en este tema, que me parece que es confuso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obvio que no creo que sea el mayor delito del mundo, mantener relacioens sexuales extramatrimoniales. De hecho, me parece estupendo que dos personas lleguen a un acuerdo común por el que se tenga un cierto margen SIEMPRE que:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sean actos de frivolidad (tipo Morgan), sino actos necesarios para el desarrollo personal y para sentirse completo como individuo. Eso es, fantasías que no sea posible realizar con tu mujer, por X razones...personas con las que la química sexual (que no sentimental), sea superior a todo cuanto ha sido conocido anteriormente. En estos casos, según creo, ni siquiera es necesario contarlo EXCEPTO, si la otra persona te pregunta. Porque mentir, se puede mentir, pero NO a tu pareja, que es tu compañero para la vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por lo tanto, yo sí separo el aspecto sentimental del físico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora bien, vamos a situarnos en una posición más realista en MI caso, que es que estamos solteritos....y salimos una noche y conocemos a alguien. Pues bien, me parece lícito y no juzgo a nadie porque se acueste con alguien que apenas conoce, Pero yo no lo voy a hacer. Punto. A mi, no me preocupa en exceso la fidelidad sexual de mi pareja, por lo establecido arriba, pero, como a mi, personalmente, el sexo por el sexo no me llena, pues yo no lo voy a hacer. Por tanto, mi novio, culaquiera de ellos, ha podido estar tranquilo por si conozco a otro más guapo que él o más simpático...si es un encuentro casual y circunstancial, ya puedes poner la mano en el fuego por mi, que no voy a hacer nada. Por muy bueno que esté, por muy simpático que sea, por muy famoso que sea,  que me da igual...!!! Yo necesito que haya una relación personal, que haya preocupación del uno por el otro, y además, mutua. Incluso si llegase el caso que a mi esa persona, la viera mucho  y me llegara a importar, tampoco me liaría con él, si no fuera RECIPROCO. O sea, dos personas que se quieren, lo cual NO implica que quieran tener una relación sentimental, pero se quieren, se importan y se preocupan el uno por el otro. Para llegar a ese punto, necestio tiempo, por tanto, es mucha más la probabilidad de que me lie con un amigo feo que con uno que no conozco guapo. El sexo por el sexo, auque me parece bien, para todo el mundo, incluyendo mi pareja, para mí no me llama. Entonces, yo puedo liarme con otro, pues claro, y si no me lo preguntas, seguramente no te lo cuente? pues claro, pero será con fundamente, por mis motivos: que me sienta sola, que lo necesite...vamos, que lo necesite para sentirme completa. Y eso significa que se vaya a acabar la relación? pues no necesariamente, dependerá del acuerdo mutio, dependerá de si somos felices juntos...y a lo mejor, esa felicidad, es mayor si tenemos otras relaciones paralelas de menor contenido sentimental que la nuestra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La relación se acabará cuando NUESTROS lazos de unión se rompan, cuando ya no seamos lo más importante el uno para el otro. Cuando dejemos de ser compañeros de vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lo mejor la gente debería casarse por lazos mucho más sólidos que los de la pasión..y no sólo eso, sino ser sinceros, y admitirlo. Desde luego a mi me encantaría, casarme con alguien que me dijera..."Ahora tenemos toda esta pasión y nos adoramos, esta pasión se acabará, pero nuestro proyecto común de vida y familia persistirá y el cariño, el respeto perdurarán y nuestra familia, estará siempre unida". Me parece mucho más realista que que me cuenten el cuento "nunca te voy a poner los cuernos"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clarito?, no?....espero que si.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-111961868526139619?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/111961868526139619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=111961868526139619' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111961868526139619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111961868526139619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/06/propsito-de-las-discusiones-de.html' title='A propósito de las discusiones de sobremesa...'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-111900191841011671</id><published>2005-06-17T02:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T02:53:44.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is people that seem to like me after all...</title><content type='html'>Not that I am writing this about myself...but I got this from a friend on the mail and I need some self-steem, so....I am posting it. I don´t even agree, but it has been great to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Who is Natalia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a strong, independent young woman who greets the world with a bold self-confidence. You expect the best from people, and you give the best of yourself. I love that about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are also sensitive and loving, and long for a relationship where you can give yourself fully, and be fully given to in return. You give yourself very easily, which is a wonderful character trait, although it might scare a less serious suitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are smart -- you suprise people with your intelligence (and rightly resent that they are surpised). You love to tackle challenging subjects, and win! And you're often right. Note that I didn't say "always right," although I'm sure you'd dispute that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are beautiful. Your photo may not grace the cover of a fashion magazine, but your beauty is truly natural and effortless. You carry yourself with grace and elegance. You are beautiful without even trying; without hours in front of a mirror or the work of magazine airbrush artist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are surprisingly wise for someone not quite 27 years old. You've taught me many lessons. And you are still learning and growing.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-111900191841011671?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/111900191841011671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=111900191841011671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111900191841011671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111900191841011671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/06/there-is-people-that-seem-to-like-me.html' title='There is people that seem to like me after all...'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-111874180778163585</id><published>2005-06-14T02:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T02:36:47.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lo que hemos hecho, por qué, y para qué...</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time, there was a sailor, he navigated all oceans and seas, coasts and rivers. He stopped in every harbor, played in all tables, and talked to every man and woman who encountered in his way. The path of life was a fast rollercoaster, filled....that is the word, so very much full, that there was not space for thoughts or feelings.&lt;br /&gt;One fine day, the boat suffered a major accident, and needed to be repaired inland for 6 months...he thought, wow, I am going to get a big vacation, I am going to travel the mountains, take the trains, walk the paths, awesome!&lt;br /&gt;So he walked down the stairs to the pier, and as he reached the sidewalk, he realized, he had never saved money for this days, he had never thought of marriage, a family or having kids. He had never written his girlfriends from the many ports he had visited. He had just left, and left, and had never looked back to realize all he did wrong. All those thoughts came to him and he stayed immobile, standing in the middle of the pier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is never late in life to think back, and look back for a moment, and it is never soon enough to act forward and look into your future&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, for there is nothing you can really change of all you did, but there is always something you can do to create a better future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-111874180778163585?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/111874180778163585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=111874180778163585' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111874180778163585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111874180778163585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/06/lo-que-hemos-hecho-por-qu-y-para-qu.html' title='Lo que hemos hecho, por qué, y para qué...'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-111867780584275588</id><published>2005-06-13T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T08:53:16.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning to say good bye</title><content type='html'>Sometimes is too difficult to say goodbye. For some unknown reason, you just stick to someone, and you can´t let go...No matter how much it hurts, you just stick to them. No matter how they don´t care, you just stick to them, no matter how very much they laugh at your care, you just stay with them. I am not the kind of person who laughs at caring people, I sick for attention, and I love it when I get it. I very much appreciate my friends, and you know who you are (hehe)...I don´t understand people that laughs at you for caring about them...but I realize, that the reason why they do that scapes my understanding, and I see clearly now, that I shouldn´t care why, that is just how it is.&lt;br /&gt;I could say they are cruel, it would be easier to think that way, but they might not be. I could say they are dumb or evil, but they might not be. I could say they don´t have feelings, but they might have, just not towards me.&lt;br /&gt;But I tell you, it is nice when you are released from the prison of being slave of your obsessions...feels good...let´s see how long it lasts. I will keep you updated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-111867780584275588?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/111867780584275588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=111867780584275588' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111867780584275588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111867780584275588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/06/learning-to-say-good-bye.html' title='Learning to say good bye'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-111641104512692648</id><published>2005-05-18T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T03:10:45.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mirar hacia adelante...</title><content type='html'>Cerró poco a poco el libro rojo lleno de palabras irreconocibles. Cuántos de esos pensamientos parecen vanos ahora, cuántas frases malsonantes y mal escritas,  y, sobre todo, cuanta energía desperdiciada alrededor de ideas o sentimientos que se revelaron inútiles. Sus ojos se deslizaban rápidamente por las líneas manchadas, deteniéndose de vez en cuando en frases exclamativas de colores varios, esas que se apuntan para no olvidar nunca y que apenas se recuerdan un par de minutos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Mira hacia adelante, siempre hacia adelante-pensó que estaba harta de tener que forzarse a mirar hacia adelante,  le daba rabia no haber aprendido ya la lección. Se dice que el pasado se ha de mirar desde la distancia, con paz, con aceptación y amor, que no se ha de olvidar, sino recordar con desapego. Pensó que nunca sería capaz de olvidarle, y, sin embargo, no tenía opción, puesto que no cabía albergar esperanzas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Déjale ir, deséale lo mejor-se dijo a sí misma y, mientras la tapa del Diario Rojo recorría violentamente el último tramo hasta colisionar con el montón de papel emborronado, vió escaparse por la ventana sus últimos anhelos, sus últimas obsesiones, sus últimas esperanzas. La nube ennegrecida de rencores acumulados, de exclamaciones y reproches se dirigió a la calle, escaló la pared del edificio de enfrente y se perdió en el cielo nublado y oscuro que había venido a solidarizarse con su pena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonó el teléfono, pero, por primera vez en años, no miró el identificador de llamadas con esperanza, pues tenía la certeza de quién no era, y, también por primera vez en años, sonrió y pensó-Mejor así-.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-111641104512692648?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/111641104512692648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=111641104512692648' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111641104512692648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111641104512692648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/05/mirar-hacia-adelante.html' title='Mirar hacia adelante...'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-111582244077485457</id><published>2005-05-11T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T07:42:51.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spanish, rediscovered</title><content type='html'>Hello! I am pissed.&lt;br /&gt;I say I am pissed right at the beginning so I can rant freely without the doubtfuly honorable restiction of moderation. I am fed up with sites translating to spanish. Yeah, yeah, they think is a good idea, and that they will get more people. Ok...I have to admit I think is a good idea, but for god´s sake, do it RIGHT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...all of a sudden all sites detect that my ip belongs to Spain and I get all the american sites automatically in some kind of ununderstandable language that resembles spanish but that does not make any sense at all. What really pisses me off, is that Internet Slang in Spanish is being created by online translators!!. What is the Royal Academy of Spanish Language doing? Shouldn't be spanish speakers the ones deciding how to call new terms in spanish? Nooooooo, instead of that, american dotcoms, decide that they are just going to use whatever comes out from a translator or from somebody that minored in Spanish at some point in their lives...Yes, I am pissed that my language is being destroyed and missused, and I am pissed, that as those terms are spreading. I am now going to "Crear una entrada" in my blog, that suprise, surprise, doesn´t mean to make a whole in a wall to put a door. Noooo, now it means to Publish a Post....OMG. What is blogger really winning forcing me to operate with invented expressions that don´t mean a thing? I want my English interface back. At least, it made some sense...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pissed Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-111582244077485457?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/111582244077485457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=111582244077485457' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111582244077485457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/111582244077485457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/05/spanish-rediscovered.html' title='Spanish, rediscovered'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-110924170741148021</id><published>2005-02-24T01:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T02:41:47.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las idas, las venidas, las vueltas y más...</title><content type='html'>Si en este diario, o mejor, mensuario de mi vida se da alguna impresión, esta es, sin duda, de inconstancia. Lo cierto es, que escribir las conclusiones o enseñanzas cotidianas, te obliga a darles una seriedad y transcendencia que en el mejor de los casos, es incómoda, en el peor, inafrontable, y en el peor caso del peor caso, verdad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hace mucho tiempo, leí en alguna revista de público preadolescente que en una amistad real la factura telefónica de ambos amigos deviene la misma cantidad. Durante estos años, desde mi preadolescencia, hasta ahora (no me atrevo a llamarlo madurez), me he debatido en considerar esta afirmación o desestimarla. Importancia, le he dado, pues la he retenido en la memoria, pero seriedad, nunca, hasta ahora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Curioso como una frase intranscente, en medio de una conversación básicamente intranscendente te puede hacer pensar sobre toda una vida&lt;/span&gt; de facturas telefónicas, las tuyas. Pues sí, en un momento en el que alguien se disculpa por no haberte devuelto una llamada pero olvida  disculparse por  los años de llamadas no devueltas. Cuando te das cuenta de lo mucho que te incomodan las disculpas, simplemente, porque te recuerdan que las llamadas van, han ido e irán simpre, en una única dirección. Pero claro, si sólo fuese eso...pero no, tambíen te recuerdan que el hecho es que nadie puede saber cómo estás si no te llama para preguntártelo, y, el no hacerlo, implica desinterés, simple y llanamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Analizando mi propio comportamiento, veo que esa es una verdad inapelable, si te apetece hablar con alguien, si te importa su bienestar, la llamas. No es algo malo olvidarse de la gente, todo el mundo tiene el derecho de sentir cariño por determindas personas y desinterés y desidia por otras. El problema aparece cuando te enfrentas a la cruda realidad de que personas por las que sientes un cariño, aprecio y preocupación especial, te incluyen en esa bolsa de amigos poco interesantes que todos arrastramos, con los que hacemos lo mínimo por quedar lo menos mal posible y con los que nuestra conciencia nos obliga a disculparnos sin sentir culpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pues suele pasarme, por problemas de personalidad obvias que espero estar superando, que tiendo a sentir interés por personas que me incluyen en esa bolsa...No me arrepiento de preocuparme por las personas que aprecio, simplemente me he dado cuenta de que al no ser recíproco, realmente, me es dañino. No es amigo el que no se preocupa y después se disculpa, es amigo el que se preocupa. No es amigo el que puede pasar años sin saber de ti, y no se preocupa, o dice que se preocupa, pero no te llama para salir de dudas....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La amistad, como el amor, se demuestra o se pierde. Es mi libertad darme a gente que no se da a mi, es mi privilegio entregar sin recibir. Pero he de ser consciente y enfrentarme a la única verdad de que para ellos/as soy otro nombre más con los que quedar lo menos mal posible. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lo que se dió, se perdió y a la gente le incomoda librar acuses de recibo. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es momento, pues, de plantearse y reanalizar los verdaderos motivos de esas amistades y si es conveniente mantenerlas....es precioso entregar sin esperar nada a cambio, cuando real y honestamente te da igual ese vacío de vuelta. Pero si es dañino, si duele esa desidia que te profesan, debes alejarte, porque para ellos es una carga y para ti un dolor en el alma&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;¿&lt;/span&gt;Se puede considerar que haces bien cuando estás haciendo algo que no hace bien a nadie?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Natalia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-110924170741148021?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/110924170741148021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=110924170741148021' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/110924170741148021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/110924170741148021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2005/02/las-idas-las-venidas-las-vueltas-y-ms.html' title='Las idas, las venidas, las vueltas y más...'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-109649281185275491</id><published>2004-09-29T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T12:04:02.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect guy....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035708135@N01/629165/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://www.flickr.com/photos/629165_46902f597d_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035708135@N01/629165/"&gt;Picture 010&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/51035708135@N01/"&gt;nataliaibiza&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;It looks like I am ready to finish my post!!! wow!!!, this is news.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After all the expectation created around the title and the two pictures, hehehe. Let me &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;introduce you to my two friends: Zhipan and Drew (guess who is who). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;These two guys are probably the nicest, more sensitive, adorable, helpful, well-hearted, lovely, friendly, understanding, good listener guys I have ever met. I am happy of having met them, and will always remember them with care and joy. Are they a model of the perfect guy? sure they are, down to earth, hard-working, amazingly intelligent guys...All I wanted all my life was somebody like them, or I though so. But more and more, I come to the realization, that perfection or objective qualities, don't make a good partner. For whatever reason, we care and are affectionate to whoever for whatever reasons that escaper our understanding (or at least mine). After all these years I just have come to stumble with the reality that...I might just have found what I wanted, only to know it doesn't make me happy. Should we look for what makes us happy? or should we look for what settles us down? or for what is comfortable? I think all these options are valid...and everyone of us should decide what path is best for them. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So...you might think, it is possible to find it all, yeah!!! it is!!!, but...do I have the patience to wait for it to come around? Probably not. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Decisions are made and tables are turned every single day...who knows what future holds? In time I will know what to do, we always do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kisses,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Natalia&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-109649281185275491?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/109649281185275491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=109649281185275491' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109649281185275491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109649281185275491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/09/perfect-guy.html' title='The Perfect guy....'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-109622254471190686</id><published>2004-09-26T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-27T09:48:54.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Rotten scoundrels</title><content type='html'>Although I keep complaining about not having a whole lot to do during my stay, I know that is not a realistic point of view. I more that often do interesting stuff, meet interesting people, and go to new interesting places, the problem is I don't feel completely comfortable sharing this, partly because they normally involve other people and I respect their desire of not being publicly exposed on a blog, and partly because I am a jealous person of my intimacy myself (ok, so that is a little contradictory with the fact of keeping a weblog itself).&lt;br /&gt;Since I am aware that I don't always make publicity of my roundabouts in this blog, and that might lead to the misconception that I am not enjoying San Diego, I thought that sharing my experience at the &lt;a href="http://theoldglobe.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Old Globe Theater&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; last week would be a nice and smooth start for a new conception of my blog, a more expressive way of blog. Sharing less ranting thoughts and more fulfilling experiences. And I know it is going to be hard for me to share what I did or didn't do (because I really hate to give details of my dids), so I am going to keep it low key avoiding lots of details.&lt;br /&gt;Hope that it will transmit that I am enjoying myself, and that the fact that sad things are more likely for me to be shared, in my everyday life there is far more joy than anger, and far more sweetness and companionship than struggling.&lt;br /&gt;So yes, in the middle of the week, Tuesday to be exact, I went to this non-stop laughter play. It was a great priviledge to be among the San Diego residents to enjoy the world premiere of the new musical play Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. The music and lyrics of this new play, starting in Broadway in March 2005, and premiered here in San Diego, have been composed by David Yazbek who was also the composer for world-wide famous Full Monty musical.&lt;br /&gt;So many Tony Awarded people participating make it a very safe shot to go see it, but you just can't anticipate the fun you are going to have.&lt;br /&gt;The cast is amazing, if you want to see some of your favorite TV actors doing real-time acting, then go, you won't be deceived, they are all terrific. Outstanding &lt;a href="http://http://us.imdb.com/name/nm0001475/#guest-appearances"&gt;John Lithgow&lt;/a&gt;, who you probably know for his long-time roll in 3rd rock from the sun or Harry and the Hendersons. and my favorite actress in this play &lt;a href="http://us.imdb.com/name/nm0322306/"&gt;Joanna Gleason&lt;/a&gt;, I don't see how anybody else could have done it better, her character's comments were the funniest, but I believe was her natural touch that made them just hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;Also remarkable was the set-up. Although not as impressive as those in other Broadway shows, it was just a piece of engineering art. How it moved around, and how those movements were another part of the story and were integrated in the flow of events, was just amazing. It gave a simple impression in every scene, and a complicated engineered impression overall (I am not sure if this makes a lot of sense, but that is how it felt to me).&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, company was excellent and I had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;Thank yall for reading!&lt;br /&gt;Cheeres!&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&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/6730502-109622254471190686?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/109622254471190686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=109622254471190686' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109622254471190686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109622254471190686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/09/dirty-rotten-scoundrels.html' title='Dirty Rotten scoundrels'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-109589645453913473</id><published>2004-09-22T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T16:40:54.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuando intentar ser simpático es un problema...</title><content type='html'>Son las 6 de la mañana, como ejercicio matinal nos levantamos, nos miramos al espejo, y nos devolvemos la mejor de las sonrisas. Somos geniales, eso es, perfectos, inmaculados, intachables, maravillosos...como diría mi profesor de Filosofía de COU, partimos de un 10. Pero claro, el dia es largo, las tentaciones fuertes, hace calor (vale, eso no tiene nada que ver...pero es verdad), y claro, claro ahí se ve que tan perfectos, pues no somos.&lt;br /&gt;En fin, estábamos en las 6 de la mañana (nunca me acuerdo que he recuperado la ñ, esto del xp y su doble configuración es la caña de España) y en nuestra perfección de las 6, así que hacemos ejercicio y nos cargamos de positividad. Siguiendo todos los libros de autoayuda del mercado...respiramos pensando, ¨dentro lo bueno, fuera lo malo¨ y cargados de positividad salimos al mundo. Entonces, cosas de la vida, nos encontramos que esos rencores del pasado quieren aflorar, pero no, nosotros somos amables, estamos en paz con la energía que fluye, con el rio de nuestras emociones, tenemos los chakras balanceados, y, claro, en vez de mandar al gilipollas de turno a tomar por saco, pues aguantamos al gilipollas y, encima, somos simpaticos. Por no mencionar al plasta de turno, al que también soportamos y le cogemos el telefono las 20 veces diarias que nos llama (esto es que como yo tambien lo he hecho, pues me jodo y contesto porque se como de confusos estan), y además, te tragas el orgullo e intentas ser complaciente con la gente por mucho que te hayan hecho daño, porque perdonar ayuda al Karma y toda esa leche. PERO, pasa que eso de ser demasiado simpatica es una jodienda, de eso me he dado cuenta esta semana, mejor ser borde, porque al menos, no te tienes que tragar las gilipolleces de la gente.&lt;br /&gt;Resulta que como eres simpática y comprensiva, pues ya se creen con derecho a controlarte la vida, ya creen que tu vida les pertenece, que se pueden colgar de ti cuando estan mal, porque tu eres fuerte y que eso esta bien. Pues no señores, ya lo he dicho muchas veces, mi vida es mia, me ha costado mucho ser fuerte, si quieres ser fuerte te vas al psicologo y me dejas en paz, que la amistad no tiene nada que ver con eso, que para eso estan los psiquiatras, o las horas de meditación, o lo que te de la gana, pero yo no, para hablar de vez en cuando, bien, ahora, para controlar a alguien todo el dia...te buscas otro amigo.&lt;br /&gt;Y estan los que resulta que, otra vez, como eres medio simpatica con ellos, resulta que estas enamorada, o que les vas detrás, que te gustan (claro, que no saben que, como a los tios, a nosotras tambien nos gustan casi todos para un ratito, nada especial vamos), que sientes amor profundo, y que de aqui al suicidio un paso.. pero por favor, un poquito de porfavor, que estais subidos a la parra!!!&lt;br /&gt;Vamos, que no tengo yo tios detras, tantos que la cola no para en la puerta, a los que tengo que decir que no y herir...como para encima buscarme mas lios, lo que me faltaba!!, que no que no, que se acabo lo de ser simptica con la gente, que despues, los unos se aprovechan, los otros se montan peliculas, y yo me acabo comiendo la cabeza.&lt;br /&gt;Viva ser borde, todos a tomar por saco, hombre ya!!&lt;br /&gt;(Ehem...por si no se nota soy una fan de Aquí no hay quien viva, hehehe).&lt;br /&gt;Natalia.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-109589645453913473?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/109589645453913473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=109589645453913473' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109589645453913473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109589645453913473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/09/cuando-intentar-ser-simptico-es-un.html' title='Cuando intentar ser simpático es un problema...'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-109330323054705665</id><published>2004-08-23T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T15:51:31.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ivan's-party-081504-0029</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photo.gne?id=238446"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://www.flickr.com/photos/238447_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photo.gne?id=238446"&gt;Ivan's-party-081504-0029&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/51035708135@N01/"&gt;nataliaibiza&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gloria a Dios en las alturas....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desde las fiestas callejeras de la infancia con farolillos y pinatas, con bailes de los pajaritos y mascaras grotescas, hasta las fiestas de la cancion del verano y las minifaldas con botas de tacon, han pasado muchas otras. Muchas comidas, cenas, meriendas, con los amigos, los colegas del trabajo, los amigotes, los conocidos, los amigos de..., la familia, la familia de..., los fuegos de campamento, los cumples, las juergas de noche, las tapas, las canas, las copas, las parrilladas, las paellas, las fiestas de piscina o de playa en casa de algun amigo de recursos y, como no, las fiestas de pelis y pizzas. Todas estas fiestas, cada una en su estilo y momento, alimentan el bagage de saraos varios que acumulamos con dos fines bien distintos y definidos. Uno, el de contale alguno de ellos a nuestros hijos y nietos para que vean que bien nos lo pasabamos de jovenes, sin necesidad de cometer ningun exceso vergonzoso, y otro, el de enterrar en la bolsa oscura y sin fondo del no-recuerdo la mayoria, cual nuestras abuelas omitian los magreos en la sombra de un callejon, y, sus madres, las huidas nocturnas a dar de comer a las palomas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mirando hacia abajo, desde un yo incorporeo y elevado que se considera juez, aunque no parte, sobre todas las fiestas de mi pasado, veo algun que otro patron periodico alrededor de ciertos acontecimientos periodicos tambien, y siempre, una unica preferencia recurrente, la fiesta diurna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo empezo en mis dias adolescentes, siempre acompanados por el desden hacia la risa y la farandula, el aburrimiento ante el bullicio y el desprecio mas absoluto por la diversion superflua. En aquellos entonces, cada fiesta y cada evento social o familiar, aparecia en mi placida vida de dotada adolescente, a recordarme todo cuanto, por mucho que estudiara, no entendia. Que le veran a esto de salir por las noches? Y porque estaran tan felices? Y que necesidad tendran de agolparse en un sitio tan pequeno? Y porque mi ropa no es como la suya? Fruto de una educacion...diferente, supongo, mis amigas tenian un gusto por lo femenino y lo que era “moda” que a mi me era desconocido. El saberse diferente en la adolescencia puede ser considerado una virtud, si si si, claro, eso es lo que le dire a mi descendencia, si existiera, pero la pura verdad, es que es la peor epoca en la vida de mucha gente, entre la que me incluyo. No tener los vaqueros de la marca que uno quiere, o no ir al colegio que uno desea, puede parecer futil en los ojos del “ya no adolescente”, pero lo cierto, es que la infelicidad acumulada en la adolescencia puede traer nefastas consecuencias en la vida de uno. En mi caso, puedo decir que ahora soy mejor gracias a ello, pero igualmente podria haberme cortado las venas o acabado enganchada a la heroina. Los procesos de auntodestruccion son muchos y variados, por el motivo que sea, quiero pensar que mi inteligencia, mi camino de autodestruccion no fue de los peores externamente (debe ser por eso de que me educaron para no llamar la atencion), pero los comprendo todos, los mios y los de los demas, los entiendo y se que, a nuestra manera, cada uno libera su exceso de infelicidad por donde y como puede. La pena es pasar por ello sin darse cuenta, mi alegria, es la realizacion del propio yo que derivo de ello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pues bien, ni juergueaba ni era feliz. Y no me cansaba de escuchar lo muy muchisimo feliz que seria si juerguease con el resto de los adolescentes consetidos de camisa azul y pantalon tejano. Entonces empezaros los cambios, el contemplar a lor pijos borrachos, ya no como una consecuencia de la corrupta sociedad moderna y la falta de valores establecidos, el desinteres por lo politico y el futuro de la estabilidad internacinal y el cultivo del conocimiento, sino como el elemento gracioso en el que una se sumergia fin de semana si y fin de semana tambien. En el fondo, no esta tan mal, son graciosos ellos, incluso cuando pierden su dignidad por un polvo de fin de semana. Y en algun momento, lo que era desechable se convierte en normal, y la gente intelectualmente futil, de alguna forma, es tu objeto de estudio, ahi debe estar la felicidad, pues ellos parecen tan felices. Y entonces vinieron los fines de semana sin dormir y los domingos de sofa, y se acabaron los desayunos tempraneros del sabado y vinieron....los momentos de risas sociales, el descubrir que no cuesta tanto sonreir y reirse sin motivo real, que, al fin y al cabo, es una mueca que se puede conjurar y que aparece solicita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero siempre hay un adios, un hasta la vista, y al regreso a uno mismo que supone esa marcha. Tambien regresan los sabados de lectura, las sesiones matinales, el pelo rizado y las zapatillas de deporte, y las conversaciones sobre la necesaria existencia de los numeros complejos, y las discusiones sobre las posibles implicaciones de los cambios de bases sobre nuestra concepcion del mundo y nuestras percepciones...y los interminables cafes sobre aquel parrafo de Confucio, y los ultimos descubrimientos sobre el origen del hombre...y del relativismo de la cuantica...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y de repente, un dia, mirando las fotos de una fiesta, mirando las sonrisas naturales, la ternura en las miradas, las conversaciones reciprocas, las conjeturas y las certezas compartidas y enfrentadas, las tazas de cafe incombustibles y las risas relajadas que viajan de dentro a fuera y no viceversa. Asi, como si tal cosa, se ve uno feliz. Despues de tantas idas y venidas a este punto recurrente, a este estado otras veces metaestable y no siempre placentero, uno se da cuenta que tal vez era necesario ir para poder volver, aprender alla, para descansar aqui. Y uno sabe, en ese momento, mirando esas fotos...que los que no tienen una conversacion interesante, es porque no saben; los que no tienen un opinion, es porque no se cuestionan; los que no creen en la realizacion personal, es que nunca tuvieron el valor de preguntarse a si mismos lo que realmente querian; los que no soportan las preguntas, es porque no tienen respuestas; que los que se aburren frente a los misterios de la vida, es que no son capaces de entenderlos; que los que no son sensibles al dolor ajeno, es que nunca sintieron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que la vida es corta para desperdiciarla en los que no saben apreciarla, que los momentos felices solo debemos compartirlos con la gente a la que apreciamos y nos aprecia y que si las respuestas a tus dilemas las encuentras en un sabado noche, es que debes subir el liston de tus inquietudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia.&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/6730502-109330323054705665?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/109330323054705665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=109330323054705665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109330323054705665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109330323054705665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/08/ivans-party-081504-0029.html' title='Ivan&apos;s-party-081504-0029'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-109156636130335031</id><published>2004-08-03T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-03T13:52:41.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking to a friend.</title><content type='html'>Talking to a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always remember that one day when a “so called” friend of mine told me: “You know, I wouldn’t mind living with you”, there is something in the way you talk to me.  That, after making my live a living hell for two years. After two years of counseling, yeah, I had changed, I had changed to the point where I could see things people around couldn’t where I could understand reactions and situations beyond common knowledge, where I could analyze other’s actions and tell you why they were acting the way they did. Even at that point, I predicted some breakdowns of people, that sadly, have become reality. Sometimes I just hate being right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My counselor said, she was amazed by me, amazed by how much I learned, how much insight I got into psychological tricks, because that is what all this is, tricks your mind plays on you for a purpose. She said I was a sponge and I absorbed all the information like none she had known before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a while, I enjoyed it, it is power. After some bad experiences, I realized it was better not to analyze your friends. Some of them just don’t understand, some are unable to admit; some just don’t want to know. Why try to make them see a reality they don’t want to face? Then I just started keeping my help to my self. Sometimes though, some people do want to know, and then I can tell them what I see, no more. But I won’t ever again get involved in walking the obscure way with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I look at friendship, at true friendship, is that it needs equality to BE. To me, there is not true friendship without equality. The moment there is an emotional dependence, then friendship is over, it will never BE again. So, whenever you seek for a shoulder to cry, grab a friend, but whenever you seek for a regular periodic counseling, look for a doctor, or lose a friend. The other way around is valid too, never assist a friend, never analyze him, don’t let him know what you can see in him, don’t interfere. If you help him, prepare to lose him. People don’t want to be reminded of how much they needed someone’s help, people don’t want to spend their time facing their former weaknesses.  Be supportive, be patient, be positive, be respectful, be a listener,  give them a positive way to look at their situation and make them get up, but never lift them, never carry them, if you do, your friendship is over in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-109156636130335031?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/109156636130335031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=109156636130335031' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109156636130335031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109156636130335031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/08/talking-to-friend.html' title='Talking to a friend.'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-109037812357189507</id><published>2004-07-20T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T19:48:43.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acerca de las buenas y malas personitas</title><content type='html'>Estaba yo leyendo un capitulo de un libro de &lt;strong&gt;Jorge Bucay&lt;/strong&gt; que se llama &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dejame que te cuente... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;y en el que se medita sobre la conveniencia o no de que cada uno &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;haga lo que le viene en gana!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Por supuesto, en un primer pensamiento, todos nos apresurariamos a hecharnos las manos a la cabeza y decir...Pero de que va este tio!!, que pasaria con la delincuecia?, que pasaria con la decencia?! Su posicionamiento acerca de este tema, a grandes rasgos, lo resumo a continuacion. Los que son malos ahora seguirian siendo igual de malos, los que son buenos seguirian siendo igual de buenos, pero, ademas, no se pasarian la vida analizando sus actos y teniendo remordimientos por cada tonteria, o sea, serian mucho mas felices. Mi vision sobre este tema, menos resumida seria:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta claro que los que no tienen remordimientos no los tienen y punto, esos son las malas personas, y no van a cambiar por mucho que nosotros les digamos de su maldad, puesto que no son capaces de ver o sentir las consecuencias del dano que causan (hehehe, podria poner aqui muchos nombres que me voy a ahorrar). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despues estan los &lt;em&gt;Malos Sociales&lt;/em&gt;, que es una categoria que me acabo de inventar asi por que si, hehehe. Si, si, existen, son aquellos que, inducidos por la presion de su entorno social, realizan actos que van en contra de su etica o/y su moral, y que se sienten culpables por ello. Sin embargo, ven que esa forma de acutar les reporta cierto estatus social o cierta categoria en su entorno, y,por ello, cargan con&amp;nbsp;la culpa. Esta gente es, obviamente, infeliz. Casi todos los malos sociales que he conocido, acaban cayendo en algun estado de depresion/meditacion/locura transitoria, que desemboca en una bellisima persona, pasando por una epoca de malos malisimos. Eso que significa? que si hicieran lo que les diera la gana desde el principio, serian buenas personas y felices y se ahorrarian un monton de tribulaciones internas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los &lt;em&gt;Buenos Sociales &lt;/em&gt;tambien existen. Son aquellos que se comportan como un dechado de virtudes&amp;nbsp; porque ello les reporta prestigio social (depende del ambiente en que te muevas, ya se sabe...). Sin embargo, esa consciencia de su propia maldad, ya nos indica que nunca podrian estar exentos de remordimiento y, por lo tanto, nunca podrian llegar a ser malos, con lo que....perderiamos a buenisimas personas y obtendriamos personas normales y conrrientes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los Buenos, buenos de verdad, siempre serian buenos, buenos de verdad..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por tanto, que tenemos? Que si hicieramos lo que nos diera la gana, quizas perderiamos algun heroe, pero tambien seriamos mas normales y felices en general. Y los malos...bueno, pues de esos habra siempre.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se trata, en mi opinion,&amp;nbsp;de confiar en nosotros mismos, en nuestra naturaleza, y dejarnos llevar, sin pensar en lo que esta socialmente bien o no, o en lo que se espera de cada uno de nosotros. Simplemente ir con la corriente de nuestras necesidades y nuestras apetencias. Yo siempre he estudiado &lt;strong&gt;cuando me ha apetecido&lt;/strong&gt; y tampoco me ha ido tan mal, no?. Si nos quitamos la presion de lo que &lt;em&gt;tenemos que hacer &lt;/em&gt;veremos que hay veces que nos &lt;em&gt;apetece &lt;/em&gt;hacer la cosa mas insolita, como limpiar, o estudiar, y como no, salir, bailar. Escucharnos a nosotros mismos, parece la mejor solucion a nuestros problemas. No solo incrementara nuestra eficiencia, aunque parezca una contradiccion, sino que ademas seremos mucho mucho mas felices. &lt;br /&gt;La sociedad no nos ensena a escucharnos, sino a escuchar a los demas, a proyectarnos en nuestro grupo social, de edad, de clase, intelectual...Pero solo al escucharnos a nosotros mismos actuaremos de acuerdo a nuestra moral, que, finalmente, es la que nos juzga cada noche cuando repasamos mentalmente nuestro dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al final, si somos felices, somos mejores personas...y no es que yo lo diga, es que yo lo se.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-109037812357189507?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/109037812357189507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=109037812357189507' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109037812357189507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109037812357189507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/07/acerca-de-las-buenas-y-malas.html' title='Acerca de las buenas y malas personitas'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-109035676811992425</id><published>2004-07-20T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T13:52:48.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La comida China y otros placeres....</title><content type='html'>Me encanta levantarme por la manana para observar los pequenos cambios que mis readquiridos habitos imprimen en mi. En primer lugar, mis ojos, que ya se empiezan a rasgar debido al exceso de salsa de soja en sangre. Cada vez plonuncio peol las erres, y mi pelo es cada vez mas lacio por causa del Panda Express de la esquina...Por no mencionar las cartucheras que ya estan llegando gracias&amp;nbsp;a Ben y Jerry (donde este la vainilla de mi padre...)y a&amp;nbsp;las Chips de Ahoy,&amp;nbsp;de Ayer y de Manana...&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Bueno..obvio que lo primero es broma hehehe, pero lo segundo es verdad. En fin, que se le va a hacer. Supongo que ya debo empezar a organizarme mejor la comida, si no quiero que el Pato a la Naranja me convierta en un animal de Granja.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Me parece que me voy a pasar, al sandwich de pavo con lechuga, que se prepara rapidito y es mas sanito...y mas baratito. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Vaya post mas inutil el de hoy...para que no se me quejeis despues (eh...Gemita) que os hago pensar mucho!!!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-109035676811992425?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/109035676811992425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=109035676811992425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109035676811992425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/109035676811992425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/07/la-comida-china-y-otros-placeres.html' title='La comida China y otros placeres....'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-108986541118619946</id><published>2004-07-14T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T21:23:31.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The World from a Bike</title><content type='html'>So, I thought walking was the way to go. I always walked to school, I always walked to the supermarket, I always walked to the movies...Today, I rode a bike for the first time...in years, and unlike when I was a kid, I used it for a reason, as a transportation media, not just for fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there I go, with no riding skills whatsoever, hehehe, geting up early and making it to work by bike. Have to admit I got a bit sweaty, but oh well, it doesnt smell that good in the lab anyhow. Yeah, it is fun, and quick, I liked it very much, fresh air, morning light workout, good stuff folks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the Hester's family for the free bike, btw!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing? I drove back with a chinese guy from the lab called Zhe Peng (ehem...it might not be spelled that way), and it was wonderful talking and riding at the same time. Uh hu! for riding conversations!. Just made me see the world through another perspective. I might try riding to the movies on Friday, how does that sound?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&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/6730502-108986541118619946?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/108986541118619946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=108986541118619946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108986541118619946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108986541118619946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/07/world-from-bike.html' title='The World from a Bike'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-108912885732336783</id><published>2004-07-06T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-06T09:22:44.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Trip!</title><content type='html'>As you probably know...I am leaving on a trip tomorrow early morning. Preparing for a trip is always hard for me, maybe too hard. Not that I freak out about what I should or shouldn´t bring with me, and this kinda stuff, but more about what a long trip implies.&lt;br /&gt;My conception of trips is very personal and I don´t ask anyone to share it, &lt;strong&gt;to me&lt;/strong&gt; a trip means:&lt;br /&gt;People stays and move on with their lives, while you keep stacked at the time when you first left. &lt;br /&gt;When you come &lt;strong&gt;back&lt;/strong&gt;, nobody will remember you but you will remember all of them.&lt;br /&gt;When you come &lt;strong&gt;back&lt;/strong&gt;, you feel everyone is ahead of you, everybody moved along a timeline while you stay &lt;strong&gt;back&lt;/strong&gt; as if time forgot about you or you forgot about time, or both things happened at the same time and you entered a time loop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is...there is no such thing as being &lt;strong&gt;back&lt;/strong&gt;, because there is nothing that maintains itself unvariable during your absence. And...my experience tells me, things don´t normally get better for me while I am away...things just forget that I exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been gone for short and long periods, for days, weeks, months, seasons and years. I have left permanently from places and returned for a while to others. The only thing that I never did was returning permanently anywhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in all my long and short periods away, in all my comings and goings, in all my here and theres in all my hellos and goodbyes from everywhere and everyone to somewhere and someone else, I always loose someone. There is always someone I loose forever, someone that is not going to talk to me anymore or who I am not going to talk to anymore. Someone that you keep loving or hating over the years and spacing and over the tribulations of daily life, someone important, and yet, he is not going to miss you. It just happens, sometimes you are missed, sometimes you are not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, right, so that is how good friends and good relationships can really be distinguished from mere knowledge...but I always happen to be the one that is never missed. Of course there is people missing me, but that one, the one I talked about before, the one I remember, the one I care, the one I worry, the one that occupies my dreams, that one..for some reason, never does. Maybe he is one person, maybe he is hundreds, all I know is he will move on and I will return but we will never be back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-108912885732336783?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/108912885732336783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=108912885732336783' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108912885732336783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108912885732336783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/07/my-trip.html' title='My Trip!'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-108750801038022111</id><published>2004-06-17T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-17T14:33:30.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Te veo tan amargada/agrandada....</title><content type='html'>It is weird how a sentece can make you think over your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy changed his nick to something similar to: I see you so frustrated, always showing of your histeria and that is why you are always in misery..kinda, it was a little ruder, but that was more or less what the nick was about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I felt that the way I got pissed off two days ago was not justified, that nothing can justify to close myself to talking to other people. But then, I deserve to be able to express myself too. How do I get to a commitmet? to a point where I am happy and people is happy with the attention I give to them?. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is how I justify these periodical explosions of anger that I do have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am obviously frustrated with my life. I don't think I do enought at work, I don't give my best neither at work or at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Obviously I am not good at social relationships, I have never been, and will never be no matter how hard I try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. But I don't think I am in misery, I still have my close friends...the ones I always had, the ones that never leave...I might come across as a jerk, but whoever knows me, knows I am very, very sensitive and am easily hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I hate hurting people, I do, and I take everything before hurting anyone. But then, don't I deserve to be at least a little happy? How long, how much do I have to take so they consider me a good person? Yet, everytime I try to be self-confident and honest with myself about what I want from life, they make me feel as I am doing something terrible. Don't I derserve to be happy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I am not perfect, and you would say..that is ok, nobody really is..but again, I always wanted to, and somehow, I still think I can achieve it, I just need to know what perfect means. I don't really know what I want from life so I can focus on achieving it. If I crave money, I feel too ambiotious, if I crave passion, then I feel too obsessed with sex, if I crave love, I feel I am fool and childish..so nothing I could want will make me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If I am honest, then I am stacked up, if I am not, then I am too sweet and foolish...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what people wants out of me, and I never seem to fullfill anyone's expectation, and I am really, really frustrated, and then, sometimes, just sometimes, my frustration turns into anger and then anger into just explosion. Of course it lasts just for a couple of minutes, but enough so they say I am crazy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nighty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-108750801038022111?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/108750801038022111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=108750801038022111' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108750801038022111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108750801038022111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/06/te-veo-tan-amargadaagrandada.html' title='Te veo tan amargada/agrandada....'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-108549237332463220</id><published>2004-05-25T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T07:57:21.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About Patience</title><content type='html'>When we start doing something, you name it, play a new sport, study a new subject, learn a new programming language...It takes a long while for us to reach a point where we feel confortable about the matter. Once that point comes, it is easy to forget that the learning took us time, and that we used to make mistakes all the time. At some point we forget we weren´t always good at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As every social behaviour is learned, and not a genetical oomponent (we can argue about that, of coure, but at least let me say, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;most&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; behaviours are), then everybody needs a learning time to behave as we consider correctly. When somoene enters a new enviroment, at work, a chat room, a group of friends, etc...they need time to get used to the &lt;em&gt;correction rules&lt;/em&gt; created in that group over its time of existance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not always granted with that patience myself when meeting new people, and know exactly how it feels to be unjustly judged, so I think I am pretty flexible with people in general, and I give them time to show what they have to offer. Sometimes, they have nothing to offer, and you can consider it a waste of your time...but I found the fact of knowing that someone doesn´t have anything to offer, a great learning itself, hehehe (call me a weirdo). I think giving people a chance always pays back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses and be patient (you know who you are!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-108549237332463220?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/108549237332463220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=108549237332463220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108549237332463220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108549237332463220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/05/about-patience.html' title='About Patience'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-108367947506029380</id><published>2004-05-04T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T07:08:30.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About why do we have to let them do that!!!</title><content type='html'>There is this kind of people, the ones that look at the world from a distant point of view from their ridiculous and pathetic small litlle world of suppossedly popular people. They look down on the rest of us AND dare to judge us like their opinion was worth a dime. For some reason, they still think they are wanted, why? because WE are stupid enough to make them feel so. Who says we cannot be mean to them? Why is all the evil in the world permited to them and when we get fed up we are ohhhhuhhhh devil or weird or crazy? &lt;br /&gt;Know what, little pions? Face the real world, you are nothing similar to a good person, you are stacked up, mean, ridiculous, unattractive and not all the money in the world will EVER be able to cover your stupidity. Grow up,and please, get a substancial life!!!, get the ability of understanding caring and intelligent conversation, and THEN come back and talk to me..and I might talk to you back.&lt;br /&gt;Hey this is my blog and I write what I want!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys have a good week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-108367947506029380?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/108367947506029380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=108367947506029380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108367947506029380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108367947506029380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/05/about-why-do-we-have-to-let-them-do.html' title='About why do we have to let them do that!!!'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-108317179085889120</id><published>2004-04-28T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-28T10:09:37.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Viviendo de ilusión</title><content type='html'>First I want to apologize because this post is in Spanish (eventhough everyone that reads them is english speaker, hehehe), but it just came out that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para aquellos que, como yo, intentan controlar lo incontrolable. Para los que dudan acerca de cada pensamiento, y para los que nos movemos questionando cada paso. Para los que viven en una fantasía buscando encontrar lo imposible, improbable e, incluso, lo objetivamente indeseable. Pues bien, para ellos, una reflexión, ¿merece la pena vivir en la ilusión?. Por supuesto es lógico tener ilusiones e incluso saludable. Sin embargo, hay una fina linea entre estar ilusionado y vivir una ilusión. Muchas veces me encuentro imaginando mi vida, una vida que jamás pordré tener (eso ya lo se). Con eso no quiero decir que no piense que pueda ser feliz, estoy convencida que puedo, el problema es...¿para qué tengo que imaginarme una vida irreal si puedo tener una igual o mejor en la realidad?, ¿qué es lo que produce esas fantasías?, ¿son acaso fruto de la insatisfacción?. &lt;br /&gt;Aunque este párrafo no es nada inteligible, hehehe, supongo que a lo que quiero llegar es...¿por qué no puedo tener siempre los pies en la tierra y no elucubrar sobre el futuro? El futuro ya llegará y puede que, si me quedo en mis fantasías, ni siquiera me de cuenta de que está aquí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-108317179085889120?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/108317179085889120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=108317179085889120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108317179085889120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108317179085889120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/04/viviendo-de-ilusin.html' title='Viviendo de ilusión'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730502.post-108314834393831662</id><published>2004-04-28T03:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-28T03:36:39.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Surprise</title><content type='html'>I wasn´t expecting it when I started using blogger, but it turned out that my lazyness, for once, paid off, hehehe. I got a Gmail account for being an active blogger user!!! Sounds like a deal, right?&lt;br /&gt;I took a look at it and it is really easy to use, very simple layout, just the necessary options and &lt;strong&gt;1 Gb storage space FOR FREE!!&lt;/strong&gt;. Not that I am actually going to use that much space, but it is nice to know that whenever I go on vacation, by account won´t get blocked in two days because of all those stupid graphic jokes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730502-108314834393831662?l=nataliaibiza.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/feeds/108314834393831662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730502&amp;postID=108314834393831662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108314834393831662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730502/posts/default/108314834393831662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nataliaibiza.blogspot.com/2004/04/nice-surprise.html' title='Nice Surprise'/><author><name>Natalia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17185887680683814708</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='02978731748948426942'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>