<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819</id><updated>2011-04-22T11:59:20.651+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gentle Raindrops</title><subtitle type='html'>A gentle soul trying to make sense of the world.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-113561130887910407</id><published>2005-12-26T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T23:35:08.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Proposal for wedding</title><content type='html'>With the long Christmas weekend, I had hoped that it will bring me a much needed relief from work. But alas, work has been piling up on my workstation and everyone from my managers to my colleagues are taking leave. Brought 2 bags of work back and expected to work over the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents have planned to have a birthday dinner for me. Really looking forward for that and also to spend time with YH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YH and I decided to go to KLCC on Christmas day. We'd figure it would be a lot better than going to Mid Valley to do our shopping for Chinese New Year clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YH parked his car and he turned around and smiled cheekily at me and asked me to wait in the car. He is up to something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went to get something from the boot of this car and he suprised me with this really gorgeous bouquet of white and red roses. Then he said he has actually planned to surprise me on my birthday (which is after Christmas) to propose to me. But my father beat him to it! Ha ha ha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He still feels he has to officially propose to me and said even though car park is not a romantic place, he hopes I will marry him. I am totally lost for words. I totally didn't see it coming. I love this man so much that I nearly cried when I answer yes and gave him a big kiss. He has said that he did not buy an engagement ring as he wants save and buy me a bigger wedding ring. I told him, no ring is needed, with so much love he has given to me, no ring is going to match that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And later at night, he surprised me again. I would be working on my birthday and he gave me a birthday present. A gorgeous white gold bracelet. Again, I'm speechless. Told him that he doesn't have to spend so much. Just having him around in my life is the best present ever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be getting married next year. Bought a house together and by this time next year, in his words 'we'll be celebrating Christmas and your birthday as husband and wife'. A whole new chapter has begun and I can't wait to spend my life with this wonderful man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YH.. Love you always...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-113561130887910407?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/113561130887910407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=113561130887910407&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113561130887910407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113561130887910407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/12/proposal-for-wedding.html' title='Proposal for wedding'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-113301984699433439</id><published>2005-11-26T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T23:44:07.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Has Been A Long Time</title><content type='html'>My best friend got married not too long ago and me and YH have travelled down to his home state to help out with the wedding. Along the way, I have been bracing myself for the meeting with my ex again as he and his girlfriend have also been roped by my best friend to help out during the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worried about what YH would think about meeting my ex. He assured me that he is cool about the whole idea and I am glad to hear that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw him again, I just felt very awkward. It is more especially his girlfriend is around. We were very cordial with each other but one can feel the brickwall between us. We did not talk much as there were tons and tons of things to do for the wedding which leaves us no time to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, I'm glad that he has found someone that he loves and I'm happy for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night, when I looked at YH snoring quietly beside me, contentment and happiness washed over me and God, thank you for YH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-113301984699433439?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/113301984699433439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=113301984699433439&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113301984699433439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113301984699433439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/11/it-has-been-long-time.html' title='It Has Been A Long Time'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-113103513564998360</id><published>2005-11-03T23:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T00:38:23.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Vanishes?</title><content type='html'>My mom recently brought back a Chinese magazine. Normally I wouldn't read it as I do not know Mandarin but my interest was piqued by one of the headlines on the cover of the magazine. "HE STOLE MY HUBBY".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked my mom to read the article and to let me know what actually happened. According to the article, the lady was happily married to her husband and they have 3 kids together. The husband has a very good friend and both the husband and wife treated him like he is part of the family. Little did the wife know that later, the husband actually falls in love with the good friend. The husband finally left the wife and their kids and moved in with his lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reporter did interviewed the husband to verify the wife's accusation. The husband admitted to falling in love with the good friend and leaving his family for a guy. When asked by the reporter on whether he regretted leaving his children, the husband replied that he has no regrets whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That 'no-regrets' statement striked a chill in my heart. Can his love for his children vanishes overnight? Can love be turned on and off like a tap? My mom looked at me with a sadness in her eyes after reading the article to me. What on earth did the man do to his children? My father just make one remark 'He might have no regrets now... but who knows in the future? One can't turn back the clocks'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God helps him if he regrets his actions in the future...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-113103513564998360?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/113103513564998360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=113103513564998360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113103513564998360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113103513564998360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/11/love-vanishes.html' title='Love Vanishes?'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-113094699620456487</id><published>2005-11-02T23:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T23:56:36.213+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.haloscan.com/" title="HaloScan Commenting and Trackback" rel="tag"&gt;Haloscan&lt;/a&gt; commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-113094699620456487?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/113094699620456487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=113094699620456487&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113094699620456487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/113094699620456487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/11/haloscan-commenting-and-trackback-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-112221824211832648</id><published>2005-07-24T23:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T23:17:22.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.haloscan.com/" title="HaloScan Commenting and Trackback"&gt;Haloscan&lt;/a&gt; commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-112221824211832648?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/112221824211832648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=112221824211832648&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/112221824211832648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/112221824211832648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/07/haloscan-commenting-and-trackback-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-112221748242382788</id><published>2005-07-24T21:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T22:37:08.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The next phase in life</title><content type='html'>It happened a couple of weeks back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad (usually the quiet one) decided to 'talk' to me about my current status of relationship with my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation goes on like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: So, what do you think about YH?&lt;br /&gt;Me : (rather stunned look)&lt;br /&gt;Dad: So?&lt;br /&gt;Me : He's a great guy. That's why your daughter is going out him.&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Is he the kiamsiap (stingy) type?&lt;br /&gt;Me : Huh? *scratching head*&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Is he the kiamsiap type? (question with a hint of impatience thrown in)&lt;br /&gt;Me : No-lah! I think I'm more stingy than him.&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Good. Guys that are very stingy are no good one...&lt;br /&gt;Dad: So, have you all talk about getting married?&lt;br /&gt;Me : (looking bewildered.. again) Aiyoh, no lah... Still early mah!&lt;br /&gt;Mom: What do you mean EARLY? YOU ARE ALREADY 31 YEARS OLD (for the record, I am still 29 years old.. well.. at least until end of the year. Chinese mothers have the knack of adding another year to the children's age).&lt;br /&gt;Me : Err.. not ready yet lah.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: (she was looking really fierce by now) Have to be ready one mer??????? Decide then just plan lah. You know how much work goes into planning a wedding ar?&lt;br /&gt;Me : *looking rather stunned*&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Yeah lah, have to decide on the date, have to go and look for house.. aiyoh, a lot of work lah.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: And both of you are not getting younger.  Also, not good for ladies to give birth so late. AY (her colleague) is 29 years old and she has already given birth to 3 kids. (by this time, one would know what to expect my mom to 'lecture' on)...&lt;br /&gt;5 minutes later (after the 'lecture')&lt;br /&gt;Dad: I agree with your mother. I think you all better get married next year. Got a lot of work to do. You know your auntie was pestering me everytime when she called us about you getting married. She has already mentioned that she'll charter the whole bus for her family to come down from Singapore for your wedding.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Wah.. serious ar?&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Of course lah. What do you think????? So how? If you are shy to talk to him, I WILL TALK TO HIM.&lt;br /&gt;Me: *horrified look* NO NO NO... don't scare him. I'll talk to him.&lt;br /&gt;Mom &amp;amp; Dad: *relieved looks*&lt;br /&gt;Me: *stunned look*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a night....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-112221748242382788?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/112221748242382788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=112221748242382788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/112221748242382788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/112221748242382788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/07/next-phase-in-life.html' title='The next phase in life'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-111642805843953609</id><published>2005-05-18T22:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T23:38:15.643+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First love</title><content type='html'>Today I opened my box of jewellery and my eyes caught sight of a pair of earrings that I have long forgotten. It was a gift from my ex-bf before I came home after finishing my uni. The sight of the earrings brought back memories which has long been forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met during my final semester in the uni. I volunteered to be part of a group of 'senior' students that will take care of new students when they arrived at the uni. I can still remember the date when I met him at the lecture hall during the enrolment process. He was with his 3 friends and together the 4 of them had bewildered look on their faces and they did look very lost. I walked over and I struck up conversation with them and helped them with their enrolment. Funny... at that point I can only remember his friends but I can only remember him as being tall, thin and very very dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the enrolment was over, I have totally forgotten about them. But fate has decided otherwise... The next day, I bumped into the 4 of them nearly everywhere I went to. The cafetaria, the library, the lecture hall.. They called me and we all had a good laugh about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day me and my best friend met them on our way back from our grocery shopping. Being new in the country and they dare not venture out to the city, they took the bus for a ride around the suburbs. And me and my best friend boarded the same bus. We were all surprised, again at the frequency we bumped into each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We invited them to our house for dinner and they were so happy at the prospect of eating a good home cooked meal. Our friendship have been sealed from that day onwards. Soon after that, they will hang out at our place while waiting for their house to be ready (Our landlord has another house nearby for rent). Somehow or rather, because of the similarity of my age and my ex-bf's age, his friends tend to tease us how both of us would be suitable as bf-gf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a good laugh about it and my ex-bf suggested that we play along and I agreed to it. We called each other 'dear' and acted like a real couple. They teased us more about it after that. I did not any special feelings for him at that point and I treated him as a very good friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The semester started and again my ex-bf and I are enrolled in the same course. He dropped by my house quite often for dinner and we spent time together for our assignments and studies. And my best friend and I would drop by their place as well to hang out. It became a norm for us to stay over at each other's place. His friends purposely put me into his room when I stayed over as my landlord placed an extra mattress in his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is from Singapore and prior to coming to the uni, he finished his national service. One habit he picked up from his army days is that he'll talk with his army mates before he sleeps. And he continued to do that with me. From all this late night talks, we got to know each other better. I felt honoured that he told me things that his friends would never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think both of us did not anticipate falling for each other.. but it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life was a bliss.. and as they said, good times flies and it came the time when I have to come home after I finished my uni. I left with a heavy heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping that I can maintain the long distance relationship but it is really hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think back about what has happened, I guess the tell-tale signs are there, but I refused to see that a breakup is coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went down to Singapore to see him when he flew back there for his summer holiday and finally he mustered courage to break up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried my eyes out and felt the world has come to an end. My soul felt hollow and empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has hurt me more is that by virtue that I'm a Malaysian, his mom has branded me as a gold digger. I did not realise that his family is rich. I felt angry... Is it a sin to be a Malaysian? And he did not even defend me, when he knows that I'm not with him for him money. I did not even know what does his father do for a living and I don't care about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We parted as friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a few years after that, I closed my heart. I lost my brother at the same time and I needed time for myself. After that, I've met some rotten apples but things happened when you least expected it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met my soulmate at the point when I was about to give up on relationships last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think about what has happened, I felt really blessed with the turn of events, even though it might seem bad at that time. Things happened for a reason and if my ex-bf has not broken up with me, I would not have met my current bf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a journey it has been...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is indeed light at the end of the tunnel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-111642805843953609?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/111642805843953609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=111642805843953609&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/111642805843953609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/111642805843953609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/05/first-love.html' title='First love'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12572819.post-111522080601349862</id><published>2005-05-04T23:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T23:33:26.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our first anniversary</title><content type='html'>Honey, this is our first milestone... A toast to our journey together as soulmates. Love you more than words can describe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12572819-111522080601349862?l=amadare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/feeds/111522080601349862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12572819&amp;postID=111522080601349862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/111522080601349862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12572819/posts/default/111522080601349862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amadare.blogspot.com/2005/05/our-first-anniversary.html' title='Our first anniversary'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807688474384282486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
