<?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-8735294</id><updated>2009-02-21T00:23:55.942-08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't waste your life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-110257843957680411</id><published>2004-12-08T23:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-08T23:47:19.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm not dead!</title><content type='html'>hello. i'm still alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm actually looking forward (believe it or not) to this time next year when hopefully i won't have to write a line like that for a long while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually around this time every year i usually return from a little (totally hidden) resort called 'school of interior design'.  i mean, deep inside i actually enjoy it but for the most of it, its a struggle once you're inside. its one of those places where as soon as you go in, you disappear within its walls. (let me tell you, places like that DO exist!)  its as if the world you know, you knew before walking in, suddenly freezes for the time you're in there.  and for the sake of producing great design, many (like myself) forfeit sleep, health, sleep, maybe a social life, sleep again, the relaxing (actually far from it) cycle goes on until you feel your &lt;em&gt;entire &lt;/em&gt;body waging war against you to simply say something like 'stop it, you're hurting us'.  you lose track of the time and when you DO return from this resort, you sorta don't know what to do with yourself!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ooh. i think i could write more about this resort, in which i'll be returning again early next year but i'll won't. for the time being i just want to say, hello!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-110257843957680411?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/110257843957680411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=110257843957680411' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/110257843957680411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/110257843957680411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/12/im-not-dead.html' title='i&apos;m not dead!'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-110022670621112023</id><published>2004-11-11T17:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-11T18:45:50.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>indescribable.</title><content type='html'>since the last entry, i've had an &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt; relevation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i could share it with ya in just two words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;knowing Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything i ever need, desire, strive for begins with those two words (i realised).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i say, i need more faith.&lt;br /&gt;i say, i want more compassion.&lt;br /&gt;i say, i want to fear You more.&lt;br /&gt;i say, i want to bear more fruits for You ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in response God said if you want all this, then seek Me first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't know what to say.  dumbfounded, yea a little.  speechless, completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it only makes &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;much sense. how did i ever expect to see the outcomes first without the single most important thing? the intimate relationship with the Source of all these things which i so desire.  if you think about this, everything comes down to those two words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;absolutely everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you want to know the meaning of life?&lt;br /&gt;you're tired taking on all this by yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you see, it inevitably comes back to &lt;em&gt;knowing&lt;/em&gt; Jesus, knowing just where we stand and that He has always been waiting for us with arms stretch out wide, waiting to embrace us.  again and again and again ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is only when we continue in this relationship with God that we will experience the things and life that we earnestly desire manifest itself, naturally (!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this relevation couldn't come at a better time. &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/8735294-110022670621112023?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/110022670621112023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=110022670621112023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/110022670621112023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/110022670621112023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/11/indescribable.html' title='indescribable.'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109937965704529467</id><published>2004-11-01T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T22:21:33.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>jesse: pt one</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as i sat in my room last night, door shut, i heard something so familiar in the kitchen that i haven't heard in a while now. mom was laughing out loud like, always. so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how is she? she's doing great. she's so much more active now (since she's only carrying one iv pack now). though she carries less, her dosage of antibiotics is more. so it may be another couple weeks before everything is cleared out of her. as a result of all this, dad is even less stressed now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm so excited for tomorrow. since its my day "off" school (though i'm in the studio 6 days a week anyways) i'll be having lunch with jesse ! this is a man of God, a brother, i've truly missed since i graduated from jackson. he's one of those unique individuals that you think of out of the blue (b/c ya miss him so)&lt;br /&gt;so tomorrow we're (finally!) going to get a 'scheduled' opportunity to fill each other in our last .. four years (!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i walked the 11 minutes of solitude from the bus stop back home (130am) i reflected on God's word i read this morning. God spoke profoundly into my life. i was reminded again (thank you!) that this life simply is NOT mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i often (so many many times!) chose comfort + security over the one (and only) thing that i claim means more to me than anything else in this world. its sad but true. how can i be so short sighted? its like choosing the second best (not even! sometimes i don't even know &lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt; is best) when the &lt;em&gt;absolute&lt;/em&gt; best is offered to you, is handed directly &lt;em&gt;to&lt;/em&gt; you, placed &lt;em&gt;in &lt;/em&gt;your hands and you still refuse to accept it. yea, i mean, who does that? (me) i make some silly, silly choices. but despite my inadequancy to grasp God's best for me (something which &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; changes) He renders me to see (in His usual patient and unconditionally loving way) the one and only possible way to live my life ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit" - yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." [ james 4.13-5 ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;305am. must continue this tomorrow (or next blog) goodnight! [ zzz ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-109937965704529467?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109937965704529467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109937965704529467' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109937965704529467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109937965704529467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/11/jesse-pt-one.html' title='jesse: pt one'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109908082443875008</id><published>2004-10-29T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T13:14:55.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! he screams quietly.</title><content type='html'>flabbergasted. thats what i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the last 5 days i've experienced more politics in school than i've ever wished or asked for. i wish i could unsee, unfeel and unexperience all that i've gone through but i can't.  and its scary how much it is affecting my perspective of school + people and my moods. sadly i feel so different. so bitter. so chained.  so not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though i don't always show it, i'm angry. not at specific people but just at the way things are done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i didn't know &lt;em&gt;any &lt;/em&gt;better, if i just came into the world this week, there would be 3 behaviours which i would've learned and accepted as a 'norm', if i didn't know any better b/c monkey see monkey do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(1) as good sound solid constructive advice, it is OK for a prof to encourage students to polish a red shiny apple for another prof - to better the relationship at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(2) the prior view is OK b/c everything is a game - so therefore you must do whatever it takes in order to get what YOU want. anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(3) there are particular times/situations that are SO important that, it is OK to manipulate others so to attain those objectives - at whatever the costs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if someone told me a week prior, about this specific situation, i prob would've told them to simply give it all to God. but now i realised its not as easy as that. yes, i believe that is &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; way to go but at the same time you have to first understand the &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; you feel this way. or you might just end up supressing feelings without dealing with them first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;obviously i can't de-experience myself in all that i've witnessed this week. i'm just not sure where the fine line is drawn in understanding what &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; happens around you and where it starts to personally eat you up. those bitter feelings which you were given without you even asking. according to me, its just not fair. yes, so poor me *pat pat*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT at the very end of the day (when i'm done pitying myself and all those silly things we do) its not about me anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so the obvious solution to all this is simply this: i'm going to live in a bubble! (why didn't i think about this earlier? i'm brilliant!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to stop there. this is just part 1 of 2. part 2 will be how i have overcome this situation. where you stop is where God begins. of course the choice here is where do you stop. i've obviously pushed my self limit and it is certainly about time that i stopped pretending that i've got it all under control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;less (so much less) of me more (so much more) of Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-109908082443875008?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109908082443875008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109908082443875008' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109908082443875008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109908082443875008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/arghhhhhhhhhhhhh-he-screams-quietly.html' title='ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! he screams quietly.'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109885027984984420</id><published>2004-10-26T20:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T21:19:54.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it don't make no sense.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i can't remember a day in which i felt so utterly helpless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a friend of mine is battling the academic (maybe even personal) bias of a uni prof. in a midterm the prof gave a particular student a 15 year leeway in their answer (marked correct) when my friend was only off by 3 years in comparison (marked as incorrect).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so how would you justify that action? could you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, where would you even start?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hi prof, i think you've shown personal bias in marking ______ 's paper, but i was wondering if you could please remark it? if not, could you maybe explain why you don't like me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"so you're not going to remark it?  but you'll explain to me why you have a bias against me? wow! that'll be great! thanks!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok. don't think that would happen anytime soon. but that's something i definitely cannot get it out of my head. its also something i can't do much about. not right now. not in where i'm standing. nor would i even know where to begin to fight a subjective battle such as this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* though this event lingers abit on the negative side, i'm not feeling negative / bitter / depressed but just discouraged and feeling for my wounded friend. i just can't fully accept&lt;em&gt; yet &lt;/em&gt;that this indeed happens right before our very eyes all the time but just makes itself so much more evident in times of midterms /exams / classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;definitely more on this later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-109885027984984420?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109885027984984420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109885027984984420' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109885027984984420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109885027984984420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/it-dont-make-no-sense_26.html' title='it don&apos;t make no sense.'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109875407265122427</id><published>2004-10-25T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T18:27:52.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"potato going down a water slide"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;that is what you get for staying up all night. you say some crazy witty things - the crazy part is that you might not even know it.  it will almost be 36 hours since i last touched left bed.  it calls.  not yet.  i would like to remember as much of this day before i drop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;therefore, we can deduct from poser's conservation of something something:  no sleep makes everyone slower BUT funnier.  it's inevitiable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i was so close to finishing my project.  maybe another hour from finishing.  of course without jeremy sharing his plastics with me i wouldn't even be able to say ' i was so close of finishing my project'.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;this weekend i did something i haven't done since first year uni.  i pretty much completed a project within the comforts of home, not in the studio. its been a quiet weekend, especially with the usual studio rats in montreal (returning tonight).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;arthur bought johnny a belated birthday present - a mircosoft wireless mouse. johnny was speechless.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;we finally have a theme for the upcoming coffeehouse: God's unconditionally love period.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(oy me eyes twitching again, think they're trying to tell me something)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2nd year anna bought me a postcard from montreal. in it, jesus points up, giving what is due to his father in heaven.  something i don't do enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2 minutes prior, ______ from 2nd year bought me a caramilk for helping her plot.  didn't do much but next time (no matter how embarrassing) i must ask her her name or it'll be another one of those 'hey you' situations.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2 days prior i found stanley on friendster. i haven't seen that guy since grade 9 and 10.  that guy has the gentliest heart.  remember always asking him to come to our church outreach events then in grade 11 i lost contact with him.  so glad we spoke again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"and scene" (brought back from the archives by jeremy from 2nd year)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-109875407265122427?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109875407265122427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109875407265122427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109875407265122427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109875407265122427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/potato-going-down-water-slide.html' title='&quot;potato going down a water slide&quot;'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109850916091949526</id><published>2004-10-22T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-22T22:50:06.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mom + some random thoughts</title><content type='html'>mom finally came out of mount sinai - back into the comforts of her own home. though she's still confined - being attached to an iv dripper 24/7. a nurse will visit her every every night @ 6pm for the next two weeks. the doctors decided to 'up' the dosage of antibiotics even more. (even though she's "free", dad is still uneasy.) i must admit, this has been the longest week that i could remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's a scary thought. mom suggested to me today that she didn't know what as scarier: being in a hopsital for having bacteria in your heart or the nurses at mount sinai. both mom and dad have lost complete trust in the quality of the canadian health care services during this last eights days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just today, a ms nurse toke a whooping total of 3 (!) trys to find mom's main vein in her left arm. (can you believe that?) as a result mom just looks like she got in a serious arm fight before she left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm simply lost for words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a much much more giving-all-glory-to-God note, sista gaile finally ties the knot tonight (!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've noticed in the last week (or two) my creativity in writing, designing, anything! spiralled downwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday a good chunk of my friends went to montreal to compete in an annual architecture competition. i was supposed to go but i guess that didn't work out just as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;something really neat happened wednesday. cy asked me if he could take my bible to montreal with him. at first i didn't understand why but in the end i gave it to him - told him to read (if he has the time) all that i highlighted and drew little symbols beside. can we say thank you &lt;em&gt;holy spirit&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though this week had been extremely dramatic and slow, i've noticed even more God working in my life this week. can't explain that one yet but i definitely do think it has to do with prayer, yes. less of me, more of Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking back at this week i've also realised that i'm dangerously becoming the 'busy christian'. its overwhelming. must seek that balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then alex v1.0 shared something that just pointed my eyes back to where it should be. 2 chronicles 7:14 says&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"if my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will i hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-109850916091949526?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109850916091949526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109850916091949526' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109850916091949526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109850916091949526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/mom-some-random-thoughts.html' title='mom + some random thoughts'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109822542352295994</id><published>2004-10-19T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T22:45:06.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting for soon</title><content type='html'>good news! mom (may) be able to escape (yes) mount sinai tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although she is seriously skinny from all the blood loss, she may be able to sleep in the comforts of her own bed tomorrow night. once mom is home a nurse will come visit a couple times a day to hook her up to more penniciline. though she is out, she still needs to rid of all the bacteria in her heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday i didn't get a chance to visit mom due to my busy-ness. by the time i finished with school + things visiting hours were over. boo. times like this i realise that i'm a "busy" christian (not a good thing at all). i get so preoccupied with the &lt;em&gt;doing&lt;/em&gt; that the single one most important thing suffers - the one most meaningful relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;periodically i go through all my journals from years back and today i stumbled upon something my buddy the CHENGer wrote december 22, 2001 in a christmas card:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... i know this year wasn't always easy - not for you, not for me, not for anyone, really. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;but the questions you're asking now - questions about God, about yourself, about school, about friends, about life in general - know that there are answers to these quetsions, and know that with time, God's gonna show you why, one by one, things happen the way they do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;remember this much ____ : life .. it's like a tapestry. when you look at it and see nothing but knots, loose ends, and a seeming mess of incomprehensible and meaningless strands, know that on the other side, these "mistakes" create a masterpiece. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fine, it doesn't make sense now, but that's because we're on this side of the fence. all we can do is trust that God's done something gorgeous on the other side."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can't stop smiling now 0_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/8735294-109822542352295994?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109822542352295994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109822542352295994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109822542352295994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109822542352295994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/waiting-for-soon.html' title='waiting for soon'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109804439100504597</id><published>2004-10-17T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-17T20:20:52.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hi, how are you today?</title><content type='html'>as of yesterday, mom can no longer (even after she fully recovers) lift heavy objects due to her heart, nor can dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silly me. this morning i told mom that she looked skinnier (her arms especially) then she replied, in her own way (just in a weaker voice than usual), when was the last time you've seen a person get fat while in the hospital?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha. that was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom is beginning to take this medicine that better helps regulate her blood flow into her heart. the reason for this wasn't what i expected to hear. the &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt; valve that keeps the blood from pumping backwards back into the heart is wavering, as though it can't decide whether to stay open or closed - which is dangerous for mom. (technically the valve should only open when the blood passes through. other times it should remain closed)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from now on, mom's heart and i will undergo some crazy endurance testing. it is EXACTLY as jesus says in luke 6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46 &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47 &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I will show you what he is like who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48 &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He is like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49 &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the test. all i know is that heart and i are going to endure, YEA YEA!&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/8735294-109804439100504597?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109804439100504597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109804439100504597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109804439100504597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109804439100504597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/hi-how-are-you-today.html' title='hi, how are you today?'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109798900618145292</id><published>2004-10-16T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-16T22:02:19.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my XL jacket</title><content type='html'>things look suddenly so different in the last two days. SO different. waking up. eating. work habits. thoughts. things i've never thought about (or just too scared to dwell on) i can't stop thinking about. i'm all of a sudden in a unexpected headspace i didn't think i'll be in for another 7.33 years - at least. the wierd part is that i have been preparing myself for days like these - but now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meanwhile, elsewhere in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mount sinai is a scary place. two times today the nurses caring for mom almost gave her the wrong iv drip (results? could be catastrophic) - it didn't happen because mom had to tell them so. little (big) things like this &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; makes you imagine what happens when you're &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; there. (there are many other things i've observed today but now might not be the &lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt; time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another scary thing i haven't seen in a while is - well, dad's short temperedness. in short, he blew up on a nurse (though it would not seem like that from his perspective) it almost made me cry seeing him like that.  something i wish i could explain but simply, can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i could capture how i feel in some sorta analogy it would be a ... jacket. i'm given a new jacket, i must wear it (i can't not wear it) though it doesn't fit very well.  i'm definitely not used to it but i still wear it because my father said i'll grow into it.  and when i do i can take it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to be a poet, just trying to be a poet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;admist all my thoughts these lyrics came to mind -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because he lives&lt;br /&gt;i can face tomorrow;&lt;br /&gt;because he lives&lt;br /&gt;all fear is gone;&lt;br /&gt;because i know&lt;br /&gt;he holds the future&lt;br /&gt;and life is worth the living&lt;br /&gt;just because he lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't imagine living any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-109798900618145292?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109798900618145292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109798900618145292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109798900618145292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109798900618145292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/my-xl-jacket.html' title='my XL jacket'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109787215043989472</id><published>2004-10-15T13:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-15T13:29:10.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting</title><content type='html'>just returned from the hospital, mom looks sleepy but altogether her normal self. surprisely, less worried than she ever is.  dad sat supportingly beside her, reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom shares a room with an eldery woman, having just had her fourth stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the next two weeks, its all about the bacteria!  everyday litres of blood will be drawn from mom to moniter her blood condition.  this will determine (evenutally = soon) the exact type of bacteria infecting mom's heart. the doctors are concerned that if the appropriate antibiotics aren't ministered within a specific timeframe, the bacteria may break down the valves in the heart, eventually clodding it, leading up to a stroke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom is prob sleeping right now as she hasn't sleep due to all the tests and treatments. she says that since mount sinai is a teaching hospital, at one point this morning, a group of med students &lt;em&gt;were&lt;/em&gt; going to use mom as a 'specimen'. but luckily that did not happen.&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/8735294-109787215043989472?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109787215043989472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109787215043989472' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109787215043989472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109787215043989472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/waiting.html' title='waiting'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8735294.post-109785722026428971</id><published>2004-10-15T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-15T09:20:20.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>no better place to start</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;since i've been back from england, i've stopped writing in my journal everyday like i'm used to. just two days ago i thought i would like to begin again. then yesterday i thought, there's no better time than now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*******&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;oct 14 – oct 15 (310am)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night on the subway, i thought about one verse in particular:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“let us acknowledge the lord; let us press on to acknowledge him.  as surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hosea 6: 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today began like any other day, dad driving me to finch, dropping me off. (usually mom is also in the car going to work but lately she has been sick with a fever)  but I learned something during that 11 minutes something that I simply didn’t expect.  mom has depression.  it’s a shock yet its not.  it makes sense.  the way she acts. Her reserved ness, just like dad (though dad is just dad).  its also not a surprise to me that ‘mom has depression’ is a speculation – it’s a hunch my dad has but i think he’s right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i returned home from another ordinary day at school at 545pm my dad left me a note on the kitchen table.  it read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Justin, I am taking mom to Mount Sinai Hospital’s emergency for hospitalization.  Will be back when things settle.  Dad 530pm”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from what I was told, this is what happened.  at 515pm the blood culture doctor called mom to tell her that she had to be hospitalized immediately.  mom has been having fevers since late august.  she has taken more sick leaves in the last two months than I could ever remember.  so in 15 minutes dad helped mom pack her things and off they went to mount sinai.  (auntie rose and uncle tony drove them)  at approximately 730pm mom called to say they were stuck in traffic and that mom will be undergoing ‘treatments’.  at 116am dad called to ask me to pick him up from the hospital. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the drive back i learned a little more about what’s happening.  mom’s recent fevers have been caused by bacteria in her blood.  since august, the tainted blood made its way into her heart.  so for the next week till two weeks, she will be undergoing treatment and tests as the doctors and cardiologists try to determine what bacteria is causing this condition.  things still seem very vague to me but I guess we’ll know a little more as the days progress.  i will visit mom in a few hours.  visiting hours are from 11 till 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since 545pm till 116am i’ve had peace that can only come from my father above.  of course i’m totally concerned (who wouldn’t be?) but at the same time I truly take to heart what the verse says.  as surely as the sun rises everyday (though we may not see it due to a cloudy day, it still rises!), so will God take care of those whom he loves, beyond what we may (ever) comprehend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at 310am dad and I ate an early dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8735294-109785722026428971?l=smilingappelhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/feeds/109785722026428971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8735294&amp;postID=109785722026428971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109785722026428971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8735294/posts/default/109785722026428971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smilingappelhead.blogspot.com/2004/10/no-better-place-to-start.html' title='no better place to start'/><author><name>poser!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11428407071719380560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12995239359591151786'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>