<?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-4799238115660573606</id><updated>2012-01-25T14:09:32.024Z</updated><category term='surrealism'/><category term='dadaism'/><title type='text'>words from the unwise</title><subtitle type='html'>the perils of living in my head</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-4016196626389294082</id><published>2008-12-04T11:08:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-12-04T13:54:55.207Z</updated><title type='text'>when shall we awake to the sublime greatness, the perils, the accountableness, and the glorious destinies of the immortal soul?</title><content type='html'>another birthday come and gone... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another year older, hopefully another year wiser.  &lt;br /&gt;each time i gain another year i like to compare how i spent celebrating the day of my birth from the previous.  most people will take the time to reflect on how they have spent the year since, but i just like to examine the snap shot of the actual day in question.  this is how i can best gauge the new, the constants, the no longer in my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was convinced for many years that somehow i was affected with a birthday curse.  for nearly a decade, right around my birthday some sort of disaster strikes.  nothing truly horrible, but irritations that i wish could've waited until the following week. you know the kind -- car accidents, sprained ankles, cracked discs in the lower back, wretched birthday evenings due to a blow out with current beau, etc.  the last time i felt truly and wonderfully happy on my birthday was four birthdays ago spent alone wandering the streets of paris.  sitting alone on top of the sacre coeur, watching the most beautiful sunset of my life, i took a rare deep breath trying to inhale that feeling, that moment.  i still haven't forgotten how it tastes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this year, joined by a few of my favourite people we took off for a weekend trip to paris.  i might have to make it a tradition of sorts.  just a couple of hours on the eurostar later we arrived in paris.  many 'happy birthday' toasts, croissants, plats du fromage, vins rouge later we were back in rainy london.&lt;br /&gt;who knew travelling with people could be so much fun?  i may have to convert my loner travelling tendencies... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMSj9p-FI/AAAAAAAAAFk/W7Lt7WtFTVw/s1600-h/n1346112148_150354_3410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMSj9p-FI/AAAAAAAAAFk/W7Lt7WtFTVw/s320/n1346112148_150354_3410.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275910107751381074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMSo9np1I/AAAAAAAAAFc/ADIeSPpmOgE/s1600-h/n1346112148_150348_6294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMSo9np1I/AAAAAAAAAFc/ADIeSPpmOgE/s320/n1346112148_150348_6294.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275910109093406546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMSTTKsUI/AAAAAAAAAFU/VukZz4-w7YI/s1600-h/n673520088_4913622_4406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMSTTKsUI/AAAAAAAAAFU/VukZz4-w7YI/s320/n673520088_4913622_4406.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275910103278203202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMKuQwNpI/AAAAAAAAAFM/qLHbeoxLJaE/s1600-h/n595415583_4900684_136.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMKuQwNpI/AAAAAAAAAFM/qLHbeoxLJaE/s320/n595415583_4900684_136.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275909973076883090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-4016196626389294082?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/4016196626389294082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=4016196626389294082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4016196626389294082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4016196626389294082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2008/12/when-shall-we-awake-to-sublime.html' title='when shall we awake to the sublime greatness, the perils, the accountableness, and the glorious destinies of the immortal soul?'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/STfMSj9p-FI/AAAAAAAAAFk/W7Lt7WtFTVw/s72-c/n1346112148_150354_3410.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-2408383298764318955</id><published>2008-10-22T19:30:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T19:39:51.211+01:00</updated><title type='text'>due to overwhelming demand</title><content type='html'>for photo evidence of my thanksgiving dinner.. &lt;br /&gt;here you go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9zRV8iDpI/AAAAAAAAADw/8y93bDv_j0A/s1600-h/n653290520_4410189_1975.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9zRV8iDpI/AAAAAAAAADw/8y93bDv_j0A/s320/n653290520_4410189_1975.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260049631578033810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9zR_9daeI/AAAAAAAAAD4/RRI9ojrRwUw/s1600-h/n637600485_4586901_996.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9zR_9daeI/AAAAAAAAAD4/RRI9ojrRwUw/s320/n637600485_4586901_996.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260049642856212962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0Jh4meI/AAAAAAAAADI/NU1WCapmvzY/s1600-h/n653290520_4410183_3323.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0Jh4meI/AAAAAAAAADI/NU1WCapmvzY/s320/n653290520_4410183_3323.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260049130028833250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0VrODXI/AAAAAAAAADQ/tFG7LqKlX8o/s1600-h/n653290520_4410181_7604.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0VrODXI/AAAAAAAAADQ/tFG7LqKlX8o/s320/n653290520_4410181_7604.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260049133289213298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0sAvasI/AAAAAAAAADY/HRKVAMkdX0I/s1600-h/n653290520_4410185_5783.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0sAvasI/AAAAAAAAADY/HRKVAMkdX0I/s320/n653290520_4410185_5783.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260049139285060290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0qnmQSI/AAAAAAAAADg/fjKpTqltCg4/s1600-h/n653290520_4410188_7918.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y0qnmQSI/AAAAAAAAADg/fjKpTqltCg4/s320/n653290520_4410188_7918.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260049138911166754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y088NBLI/AAAAAAAAADo/NQgNFTyC7eI/s1600-h/n653290520_4410200_6777.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9y088NBLI/AAAAAAAAADo/NQgNFTyC7eI/s320/n653290520_4410200_6777.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260049143829431474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM A DOMESTIC GODDESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-2408383298764318955?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/2408383298764318955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=2408383298764318955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/2408383298764318955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/2408383298764318955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2008/10/due-to-overwhelming-demand.html' title='due to overwhelming demand'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SP9zRV8iDpI/AAAAAAAAADw/8y93bDv_j0A/s72-c/n653290520_4410189_1975.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-2341077160259393543</id><published>2008-10-14T18:34:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T18:48:36.602+01:00</updated><title type='text'>thanks be to you</title><content type='html'>after searching in four supermarkets, three butchers, two street markets sam and i finally located two turkeys for our thanksgiving-in-london dinner party.  the idea was solely mine -- i like the idea of celebrating canadian holidays abroad.  it helps me feel a little bit closer to home.  our grocery shopping trip took five hours -- who knew it would be so hard to find a turkey in london in october?  apparently turkeys are very seasonal over here, available near christmas time only.  same with chestnuts and cranberry sauce.  we managed fine though and after nearly getting ripped off LARGE by the sainsbury's car park attendant (&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;what.. £20/30 minutes to park if we don't actually buy anything here?&lt;/span&gt;) we filled the boot of sam's 70's mercedes full of thanksgiving-y ingredients.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so after a seven hour cooking fiasco (aided by a few enthusiastic canadian helpers) we managed to put together the following menu:&lt;br /&gt;2 turkeys &lt;br /&gt;gammon cooked in cider &amp; braised with (pure canadian) maple syrup &lt;br /&gt;chestnut stuffing&lt;br /&gt;roasted potatoes&lt;br /&gt;sweet potato casserole&lt;br /&gt;garlic mashed potatoes&lt;br /&gt;brussel sprouts with apple &amp; bacon&lt;br /&gt;creamed spinach&lt;br /&gt;tomato &amp; buffalo mozarella salad &lt;br /&gt;and last but certainly not least... POUTINE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all 15+ guests ate to their hearts' content, and at the end of the evening we worked off all the butter we'd just ingested with a mad dancing session which lasted until just over 3am when sam's downstairs neighbour barged in through the front door in her dressing gown, stating that 'some people have to work the next day'.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we laid out all the food on the massive dining table, turkeys ready to carve, i felt my heart smile and looked around at my london family with thanksgiving.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gobble gobble&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-2341077160259393543?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/2341077160259393543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=2341077160259393543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/2341077160259393543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/2341077160259393543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2008/10/thanks-be-to-you.html' title='thanks be to you'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-6136257066623798292</id><published>2008-10-01T18:41:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T18:48:47.157+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a beautiful life</title><content type='html'>a dear friend lost his beloved grandfather over the weekend.  his text message read simply, 'he's with my grandmother now..' i am thankful that his outlook is one of hope and fond memories and wish i could be there in person to hear of the many stories he and his grandfather shared together.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;font color="white"&gt;j.. &lt;br /&gt;all my prayers are with you and your family.  i'm glad you're surrounded by people you love and those who loved him as much as you do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all my love,&lt;br /&gt;anne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-6136257066623798292?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/6136257066623798292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=6136257066623798292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/6136257066623798292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/6136257066623798292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2008/10/beautiful-life.html' title='a beautiful life'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-2393876187366953470</id><published>2008-09-28T19:27:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:04:31.379+01:00</updated><title type='text'>thinking... always thinking...</title><content type='html'>it's sunday late afternoon and i am sitting alone at the suck office listening to murs &amp; 9th wonder.  there is something a bit beautiful about this day.  it's a rare cloudless, sunny day in london and walking up the street along broadway market to work i wished i could join the crowds of people who were sitting on the curb along the pavement (as the brits call sidewalks) enjoying their sunday pint.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this week has been a bit of a weird one -- flashes of ILL (i love london!) moments amongst pangs of homesickness.  i landed at gatwick airport on tuesday morning and in an attempt to pinch a few pennies took public transport home.  as the no. 48 bus drove along london bridge i peered along the thames river and breathed in london all over again.  this is one of my favourite bus journeys in london.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SN_Ul322iNI/AAAAAAAAACk/YCByoJC4jlI/s1600-h/48.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SN_Ul322iNI/AAAAAAAAACk/YCByoJC4jlI/s320/48.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251149437651552466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SN_VIvUH_EI/AAAAAAAAACs/_NnI4yEe410/s1600-h/n533655036_586306_5572.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SN_VIvUH_EI/AAAAAAAAACs/_NnI4yEe410/s320/n533655036_586306_5572.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251150036653833282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;leaving london bridge station and across the thames, it tumbles into the city along bank, past shoreditch and liverpool street before letting me off on hackney road.  just a hop skip later, i was back at the studio trying to catch up on two weeks of missed work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after spending the last six months anxiously awaiting the approval of my work permit as luck would have it my papers were finally approved the day i left for toronto to participate in jinny's wedding.  so my one week trip home was extended an extra eight days, giving me the opportunity to tie up loose ends.  now back in london i watch the healing process happen before my eyes.  old wounds are no longer there making me feel like a snake that has shed its old skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the mean reds prevails often still, and i wonder when i'll finally realise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;what it's all about&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-2393876187366953470?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/2393876187366953470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=2393876187366953470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/2393876187366953470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/2393876187366953470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2008/09/mean-reds.html' title='thinking... always thinking...'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/SN_Ul322iNI/AAAAAAAAACk/YCByoJC4jlI/s72-c/48.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-5652898592298200816</id><published>2008-09-08T19:44:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T16:58:57.860+01:00</updated><title type='text'>my best friend's wedding</title><content type='html'>every close knit group of girl friends (which for me consists of a small-ish number of the most amazing girls anywhere) have had that oh-so-funny discussion about who will be the first one to walk down the aisle.  according to my mother, the girl everyone thought would be the first to go usually doesn't at all -- they are the ones who are destined to be the perennial old maid.  in our case, we were all right on the money.  funnily enough jin is not the most romantically inclined, no great lover of sappy romcoms, or one to speak obssessively about her future wedding as if it were the single greatest event ever in history next to the fall of the berlin wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quite the opposite actually.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jinny was the one who was consistently pragmatic about relationships, marriage and all that comes with it.  she could give you viewpoints that most women couldn't even wrap their heads around.  she is romantic but sensibly so -- never one to expose her inner feelings to the whole world, the way i often do to even to people who don't give a rat's ass.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jinny &amp; alex's serendipitous meeting is one that most women can only hope and dream would happen to them.  in fact, you could probably write an incredibly romantic, though entirely unbelivable screenplay based on their chance meeting.  i told jinny it's fate, destiny, roses &amp; rainbows!  jin gave me a hard look and said 'no honey, it's just love.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my best friend is now a mrs.  in typical style i was more nervous than she -- jinny single handedly planned this wedding on her own in just a few month's time while her useless maid-of-honour camped out selfishly in london.  i have had several moments of 'i am the worst maid of honour ever of all time', not quite ready to accept that my best friend for the last 14 years will soon be a smug married, while i the perennial singleton 'try to convince myself i'm ok being alone' (my flatmate's words, not mine! haha)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the truth is, i was just as excited for jinny's nuptials as she was.  perhaps even more so, because in general i am much more excitable than she.  i am thankful i get to live it all through her -- the wedding, future pregnancy, followed by the birth of her first daughter whom she will undoubtedly name after me!  she is like the big sister i never had, and the truth is as i'm still undecided whether it's something i foresee in my future or not, how better than to watch my best friend go through these passages in her beautiful life with joy in my heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dearest jinny &amp; alex -- i wish you both all the happiness that this world &amp; beyond has to offer.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-5652898592298200816?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/5652898592298200816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=5652898592298200816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/5652898592298200816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/5652898592298200816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-best-friends-wedding.html' title='my best friend&apos;s wedding'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-1254187222468116836</id><published>2008-09-04T18:32:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T19:06:00.325+01:00</updated><title type='text'>something new something borrowed</title><content type='html'>i realised recently that i've forgotten how to write.  there once was a time when the words would just flow -- out of my head, onto the page.  it is a rare moment when i am speech-less, thought-less, mind-less.  my head is always brimming with thoughts of 'i wonder', 'what if' -- not in regrettable terms but out of sheer curiousity and due to the obssessive nature i know i harbour.  i've often chased this idea of clearing one's mind.  being an escapist with an obssessive tendency sounds like an oxymoron but i am living proof that both states of being can co-exist relatively harmoniously.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these past eight months have been the most tumultuous and lonely time of my life.  the allure of living in a new city in a foreign continent lost its initial lustre several months back, and now i am faced with thinking of london, uk as my second home.  my life is once again completely unrecognisable from what it looked like just a year ago, and once again i find myself embarking on yet another new phase in my life.  many remnants of my former self remain however.  &lt;br /&gt;dependable friendships of over a decade; &lt;br /&gt;the relationship i have not been able to forget, even after all these years; &lt;br /&gt;the taste of my favourite childhood candy remain as a constant reminder that you can never really leave it all behind -- even though &lt;em&gt;sometimes, i wish i could&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i come to my senses and give thanks for all the memories... the constants... the enduring spirit of the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-1254187222468116836?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/1254187222468116836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=1254187222468116836' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/1254187222468116836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/1254187222468116836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2008/09/something-new-something-borrowed.html' title='something new something borrowed'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-7939664847133781100</id><published>2007-12-18T15:51:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-12-18T16:25:24.103Z</updated><title type='text'>when you're safe at home you wish you were having an adventure; when you're having an adventure you wish you were safe at home</title><content type='html'>t minus 27 hours until i land at toronto pearson airport.  it is simply impossible to try to explain how my heart smiles at the thought.  i've been pouring through toronto weather reports, current affairs, gossip so that i won't feel like a total alien when i touch down.  i realise that 7 months is not such a long time to be away from &lt;em&gt;home&lt;/em&gt;, but for someone who has never spent more than a month away it has felt like an eternity.  i spent the majority of my youth pining for an international adventure and now that i have experienced a little taste of it first hand, it is nice to think that tomorrow i will get to eat my mom's food, shovel the snow off our driveway, bicker with my sister about the state of the clothes i've left behind (haha jenny.  that one's just for old time's sake!) and sleep in my room that is still filled with remnants of my toronto life.  &lt;br /&gt;it is especially pleasing to know that i am finally well settled and suited to my london life, with lots of good news/adventures to share with everyone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaron was in town for a couple of nights (just to see the spice girls!) and last night we met outside of my work in picadilly circus.  though we've known each other for over five years, aaron and i didn't really bond until the final months leading upto my relocation to london.  we'd meet once every couple of weeks to excitedly discuss my upcoming move, our individual european experiences and love for travel.  he was one of a small handful who really encouraged me to take the leap and leave home to find what it is that &lt;em&gt;i had offer to the world&lt;/em&gt; outside of toronto.  it felt really sweet to walk down regent street and share a few pints and pub food at the windmill while we chatted about the past seven months of our ever progressing lives.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not even home yet and already i feel my stay is much too short.  how do you catch up with the family, friends, city who &lt;em&gt;is home&lt;/em&gt; to you in just a week?  how can i absorb all the smells and textures of home in 7 days?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heaven forbidding - &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i will always be the girl on an adventure who wishes she was safe at home.. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-7939664847133781100?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/7939664847133781100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=7939664847133781100' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/7939664847133781100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/7939664847133781100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/12/when-youre-safe-at-home-you-wish-you.html' title='when you&apos;re safe at home you wish you were having an adventure; when you&apos;re having an adventure you wish you were safe at home'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-4283356272907025482</id><published>2007-12-12T20:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-12T20:23:36.451Z</updated><title type='text'>i just don't know what to do with myself</title><content type='html'>have cried for the second time in as many weeks and i just don't know anymore.  i feel like this horrible, emotionally unstable person has hijacked my body and i am now responsible for outbursts that do not sound like me, act like me or feel like me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;maybe i've been kidnapped &amp; brainwashed by aliens... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it could just be that i am really really missing everyone back home, but a part of me knows the truth -- despite my usually great ability to adapt to new situations maybe being so far away from the familiar is scaring the beegeesus out of me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone has these moments, don't they?  as if the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;the world is crashing down around them&lt;/span&gt;.    i am having these moments all too often lately, and am really really looking forward to seeing many familiar faces in a week's time.. because i feel like it will be my saving grace, and my need to succeed in london will find itself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until then, i'm going to just &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;snap out of it&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-4283356272907025482?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/4283356272907025482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=4283356272907025482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4283356272907025482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4283356272907025482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-just-dont-know-what-to-do-with-myself.html' title='i just don&apos;t know what to do with myself'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-9198684056854627542</id><published>2007-08-22T21:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T21:32:15.560+01:00</updated><title type='text'>pieces of you</title><content type='html'>walking the streets here, i often have moments when i am reminded of someone back home.  it may be a cool shop, a great exhibition, a beautiful garden, or a place to quench one's thirst.. these moments help plant my feet firmly into the reality that is my life rather than continuing to feel like i am having an outer body experience.  i think of my family daily, and send them secret kisses in my heart - the assurance that somewhere in toronto omma, appa and little jenny will somehow know and feel that right at that moment i am thinking of them, missing them makes me reach out to the heavens with much gratitude...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though i have settled into life in london nicely, i realize that i had severely underestimated how difficult it is to start fresh in a new city, a new country, a new continent.  it is really strange that now i am the one with an accent, i am the one who has to explain why i have moved from my home, i am the one who is asked whether i miss my friends and family, i am the one who is asked how long i plan on staying here.  i revel in this feeling of being a fish out of water though and i am trying to make it now on land.  having eaten humble pie, sometimes more than i would have liked, i am nevertheless thankful for this experience because i feel i am growing to be a more empathetic, not just tolerable, person.  during my days of growing pains in canada i often heard that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;tolerance is the key to a happy nation&lt;/span&gt;.    recently however, i feel this statement grossly neglects the fact that tolerating something does not equal one's acceptance of it.  it is much easier to be tolerant than it is to put forth acceptance.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since i am one of those who never feels like they are really living unless they are faced with a struggle - at times frustrating my own self by creating problems where really there are none to be had - being alone and just surviving in a new place is exhilirating.  i feel that up until this point i have simply tolerated my life and now, finally i accept it as mine....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;what a beautiful thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-9198684056854627542?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/9198684056854627542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=9198684056854627542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/9198684056854627542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/9198684056854627542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/08/pieces-of-you.html' title='pieces of you'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-4129982132224075055</id><published>2007-08-14T15:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T15:41:28.068+01:00</updated><title type='text'>the conquest of happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;font color="white"&gt;"my purpose is to suggest a cure for the ordinary day-to-day unhappiness from which most people in civilized countries suffer, and which is all the more unbearable because, having no obvious external cause, it appears inescapable&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--bertrand russell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weaving in &amp; out of extreme happiness and severe discouragement (but mostly, i am really really happy) has presented a type of dichotomy that has been all too apparent throughout my life.  i thought to myself the other day that there is something to be said for such significant disparities which exist in one's being.  one minute i feel so happy i feel like my heart will burst out of my chest then i turn a corner and i am again faced with the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;perils of living in my head&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, cryptically speaking without giving much away this is my current state.  the ultimate goal now is to somehow, in someway &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;conquer happiness&lt;/span&gt; so that i don't have to keep digging myself out of the depths of my own mind.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just wish i wouldn't keep hearing these words in my head..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="white"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;there's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away,&lt;br /&gt;when the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--lord byron&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow, that sounds a lot more depressing written out then it did when the words were just floating around in my mind.!!  in my head these words seemed beautiful and pensive... &lt;br /&gt;ok ok, i'll take my head out of the clouds now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-4129982132224075055?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/4129982132224075055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=4129982132224075055' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4129982132224075055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4129982132224075055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/08/conquering-happiness.html' title='the conquest of happiness'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-967991638559826092</id><published>2007-08-07T14:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T15:50:40.216+01:00</updated><title type='text'>baby, you're the dogs bollocks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RriGl2aIyCI/AAAAAAAAAB8/_TaUmdxQbgY/s1600-h/Sex_PistolsNever_Mind_The_BollocksFrontal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RriGl2aIyCI/AAAAAAAAAB8/_TaUmdxQbgY/s320/Sex_PistolsNever_Mind_The_BollocksFrontal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095970963188140066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i heard this phrase for the first time recently, and i have to say i was perplexed, confused and bewildered.  the time i have spent in london thus far have been filled with questions like "what?", "huh?", and "whas that?".  the brits call barbecues &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;barbies&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;lemonade&lt;/span&gt; actually means sprite (still need to find out what they call actual lemonade), it is bad form to call someone a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;wanker&lt;/span&gt; unless the person is really wretched, people aren't broke here, they're &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;skint&lt;/span&gt;, i have to repeat myself a few times when asking for water ("excuse me, can i have some wa'er") so that i don't end up with white wine instead.  there are times when i feel a bit like an alien out here - a strange feeling to have when you are in an english speaking country - but there is something to be said for being a stranger in a new place.  for once i am the one with the accent and i can walk the streets of london in complete anonymity/obscurity without any fear of recognition (aside from a freak meeting with mikey's friends victor and george in trafalgar square on canada day).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's to being a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;legal alien&lt;/span&gt; in london!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheers to that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-967991638559826092?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/967991638559826092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=967991638559826092' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/967991638559826092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/967991638559826092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/08/baby-youre-dogs-bollocks.html' title='baby, you&apos;re the dogs bollocks'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RriGl2aIyCI/AAAAAAAAAB8/_TaUmdxQbgY/s72-c/Sex_PistolsNever_Mind_The_BollocksFrontal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-374623696248313661</id><published>2007-07-19T12:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T14:55:44.115+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dadaism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surrealism'/><title type='text'>sometimes, it is wonderful to feel alone - as if in a dream..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/Rp9YZUv-QpI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MKRv5nsdbHc/s1600-h/MagrittePipe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/Rp9YZUv-QpI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MKRv5nsdbHc/s400/MagrittePipe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088883296041845394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;'Psychic automatism in its pure state, by which one proposes to express -- verbally, by means of the written word, or in any other manner -- the actual functioning of thought. Dictated by the thought, in the absence of any control exercised by reason, exempt from any aesthetic or moral concern...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have been slipping in &amp;amp; out of one of my pensive moods.   it felt more overwhelming than usual on monday.  no, nothing is wrong, nothing feels out of sync, life still tastes sweet (not the really really 'hurts your teeth' kind of sweet but the kind of fresh sweet that i've always preferred, if you know what i mean) but despite all of this i've been having these moments lately where i feel far removed from myself, my life, my relationships.  it's kind of like having a dream during REM where you see your dreamself in a third person setting.  i can actually count on one hand the number of dreams that i have had that were actually in first person.  oddly enough, this is how i've been feeling lately, in real life -- just another observer of my own life.  it has gotten to the point where occasionally, my dream life feels more real and more substantial than my real life.  it feels sometimes there is a hazy, lazy fog that has settled making real life feel all the more surreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is something to be said for my recent 'disinterested play of thought'.  similarly to how the dadaists strived to ensure that their art have no meaning, i have found myself trying to avoid seeking reason or meaning in my current state of mind but am simply enjoying this mood.  it is like being able to take a deep breath while under water -- impossible but refreshingly superreal at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-374623696248313661?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/374623696248313661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=374623696248313661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/374623696248313661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/374623696248313661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/07/surrel-is-to-rel-what-surnaturel-is-to.html' title='sometimes, it is wonderful to feel alone - as if in a dream..'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/Rp9YZUv-QpI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MKRv5nsdbHc/s72-c/MagrittePipe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-382946928769577225</id><published>2007-07-10T12:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T13:29:17.519+01:00</updated><title type='text'>when it rains it pours</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="red"&gt;my dearest dearest jinny.. happy happy happy birthday to you on this day, the 27th anniversary of your entry into this world.  your presence in my life has been a blessing through and through for the last thirteen years and i cannot thank you enough for being there for me through it all..  i wish you all the happiness this world has to offer to you this year! &lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;the kyoto garden in holland park, notting hill gate, london&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_wcVfATI/AAAAAAAAAA8/3Plf--Ap1q8/s1600-h/DSC03194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_wcVfATI/AAAAAAAAAA8/3Plf--Ap1q8/s320/DSC03194.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085548874448175410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;took a short stroll through holland park at notting hill gate the other day and while chilling in the kyoto garden with tess was immediately reminded of a tadao ando statement that i'd copied out recently out of one of akiko's japanese mags. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i believe that creation emerges not from harmony but from the stimulation caused by the clash of foreigners, imposing itself and and creating dissonance.  and those encounters with new worlds become a source of power in people's lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the urge to create and the anticipation of those encounters - they're the reasons i continue, despite the travails, to work abroad.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- tadao ando to wim wenders&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this has been so true in my life... i have grown up an ethnic minority all my life and have always clamoured to know more about other cultures, other ways of living.  this is my life, a constant exploration of something different, something new.  the clashing dissonance of new encounters is what i crave, desire, live for...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;what i see walking through my new hood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_xcVfAUI/AAAAAAAAABE/sf8sltm0Yo0/s1600-h/DSC03199.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_xcVfAUI/AAAAAAAAABE/sf8sltm0Yo0/s320/DSC03199.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085548891628044610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;having now inhabited my new flat for an astonishing nine days all by my lonesome (with a couple of special guests along the way) without any music (aside from the tunes coming from my earphones), computer, internet or television in sight i have felt inspired to write again.  after spending my day interviewing, meeting friends for lunch i usually arrive at home in the evening to cook a quiet dinner alone, before sipping doong gool lae tea, rolling some tobacco and sitting down to put pen to paper.  i've been working through a screenplay for the last few years of my life, writing when inspiration strikes but such fanciful moments have been few and far between lately.  i can see why so many of the best writers are also the ones who have suffered the most.  i, having suffered very little in my life am not much of a writer but it is an enjoyable time for me, listening to my pen scratching the acid-free paper of my beloved white leather bound notebook that i developed while at caban.  i've just read about a screenplay competition for a short film that is happening.  the deadline is at the end of september and if for nothing else i am glad to have some sort of timeline to complete my screenplay since it's been a work-in-progress for the last five years of my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have had a very promising and eventful day thus far.  it is only 12:37 pm GWT but already i have lined up an interview and a six week temp job at a major international retailer.  having all this time alone with myself i've finally been able to catch up with my thoughts.  these past 7 weeks in london have humbled me greatly but until this week i could not quite admit it to myself.  with all the problems i've encountered in trying to convince an employer to hire me despite my temporary visa situation, lack of UK experience and over-qualifications for 'junior' positions i continued to fight swallowing my pride and taking a low paying job in my industry.  i decided just yesterday that any job i take now is a foot in the door and an opportunity to prove my capabilities/worth and in the last 24 hours since this change in my attitude the grass is looking very green indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not really sure how jason put up with my insane temporary mental breakdowns over our telephone conversations these past few weeks while we discuss the flat hunt, etc but i am thankful that i have had such a great venting board.  now that he will be arriving on this side of the atlantic tomorrow evening i'm sure he is extremely excited that he will now get to hear all about my mental breakdowns face to face.  i definitely have a penchance to over react but i am realizing that this is just my way.  i am not really serious about it, but it is my way of facing my faults, my troubles head on.  thankfully the people closest to me know that sometimes i just need to be humored and told that everything will be ok even if at the time there doesn't seem to be much of a sunny break in the cloudy sky.  (just cringed a little bit writing out that metaphor.  haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this past weekend in london saw the departure of the tour de france.  over one and a half million people came to watch, and i got a sneak peek, though you can't really tell because i didn't get my camera out long enough to snap any racers!  yes yes, i'm laaaaaaaaaaaame  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN9nMVfAQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/WFiedqeZ6IE/s1600-h/DSC03180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN9nMVfAQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/WFiedqeZ6IE/s320/DSC03180.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085546516511129858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN9ocVfASI/AAAAAAAAAA0/KRtJWKi1Yac/s1600-h/DSC03181.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN9ocVfASI/AAAAAAAAAA0/KRtJWKi1Yac/s320/DSC03181.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085546537985966370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;a couple of my favourite moments from the last week..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN8FsVfANI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZngBRqTxFks/s1600-h/DSC03184.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN8FsVfANI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZngBRqTxFks/s320/DSC03184.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085544841473884370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_x8VfAVI/AAAAAAAAABM/e8BykOsMLok/s1600-h/DSC03195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_x8VfAVI/AAAAAAAAABM/e8BykOsMLok/s320/DSC03195.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085548900217979218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_ycVfAWI/AAAAAAAAABU/oOFH1pTeN_U/s1600-h/DSC03196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_ycVfAWI/AAAAAAAAABU/oOFH1pTeN_U/s320/DSC03196.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085548908807913826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_y8VfAXI/AAAAAAAAABc/4tA8se3k0lQ/s1600-h/DSC03197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_y8VfAXI/AAAAAAAAABc/4tA8se3k0lQ/s320/DSC03197.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085548917397848434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-382946928769577225?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/382946928769577225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=382946928769577225' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/382946928769577225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/382946928769577225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='when it rains it pours'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5z2iU9N3glg/RpN_wcVfATI/AAAAAAAAAA8/3Plf--Ap1q8/s72-c/DSC03194.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-3233160846501417199</id><published>2007-06-25T17:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T17:22:53.234+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"you fear that if you lower your guard for even one second your whole world will disintegrate into chaos.."</title><content type='html'>"fuck the world don't ask me for shit &lt;br /&gt;everything you get you gotta work hard for it"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so the shit hit the fan last wednesday, and due to reasons i will not explain here i am currently a nomad walking the streets of london with this amazing fold-a-travel-bag that akiko bought for me the last time we said our goodbyes.  the title for this particular post is a quote from a douglas coupland book that i read a little while back which i always viewed to be overly pessimistic but one that describes perfectly my penchant to over-react.  perhaps penchant is the wrong word to describe it, but like i've been saying all along THE FEAR still resides and just when i thought it was starting to really dissipate it started to rise up again in my throat again with a vengeance.  cryptic i know, but those of you who know what went down will appreciate why it is that i feel this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have finally found a place to live!  after seeing 23 flats, most of them unable to be inhabited by my soon-to-be flatmate (aka. bubble boy) because of his allergies to everything under the sun.  of these the most problematic is the dust/mould allergy which in london means that 90% of all the flats i saw were highly unsuitable.  the other 10% were either too far, too small, or the area was just plain dodgy (yes, i've started picking up londoner-speak. haha).  being an independent single woman who is used to going home late at night on her own it was extremely important that i don't feel like i constantly need to look over my shoulder to see who is walking behind me.  in the end, serendipitously (i really love this word) i found a flat that met more of our requirements than any of the others that i had seen thus far, the day prior to me becoming a nomad.  i move in this coming sunday, and am extremely excited that finally i will be a resident of this city, and not just a visitor or 'guest' as i have heard myself referred to as recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last thursday evening sandra, michelle and i had a lovely japanese bento picnic on top of primrose hill - one of the highest points in london.  primrose hill has quickly become my favourite picnic, sun setting/rising watching location, and one of the few places where i feel like i can take as deep a breath as i want.  the three of us kicked off our shoes, sipped wine spritzers out of plastic cups while i tried to peel the gum that i'd sat in earlier off the seat of my favourite pinstriped shorts.  we dug into our little bentos, had many conversations centering around the subject of balls (all kinds, types, sorts!  you know what i'm talking about sand &amp; mich), watched the crowds gather as the sun began to set while nearby listening to a little bongo rhythm group playing in the background... yes yes i like to romanticize my experiences, what can i say!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i spoke to my folks this morning for the first time in nine days.  very neglectful and un-filial pietous of me but under the circumstances i really felt i needed to re-group before i called them.  my dad is the best inspirational speaker and had many words of encouragement to offer to his eldest daughter.. my mother kept reminding me that as difficult as it may seem for me, a native english speaker in an english speaking nation, i should also consider how difficult it must've been for my folks when they first emigrated to canada with two young children both under the age of 8 years, with the language barrier and lack of family or friends.  it humbled me for a second and really helped put things in perspective.  i suppose that what they say is true.. we do belong to the spoiled generation.  our parents have created opportunities for us that they themselves didn't have, but again and again we take it for granted.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today for the first time since i've arrived in london, i felt some severe pangs of home sickness.  i'm so used to my phone ringing off the hook with friends calling to chill, hang out.. go for a quick coffee or sit in the park.. hanging out with my baby sister and discussing the progression of our future... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my lifeline in london has been sandra, mich, art, mona, joe, jeff, J and the biweekly chats that jason and i have has saved me from some very dark (and serious drama queen) moments.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and ms. akiko please play it safe in peru.  have the time of your life dearest, and be nice to ken!  can't wait to see you in august my love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the tide is beginning to turn, and it feels so good once it touches my lips.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-3233160846501417199?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/3233160846501417199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=3233160846501417199' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/3233160846501417199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/3233160846501417199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/06/you-fear-that-if-you-lower-your-guard.html' title='&quot;you fear that if you lower your guard for even one second your whole world will disintegrate into chaos..&quot;'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4799238115660573606.post-4762480937900867607</id><published>2007-06-11T01:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T03:57:57.608+01:00</updated><title type='text'>this is how i roll - the UK edition</title><content type='html'>a new city, a new life.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it has been just under a month since arriving in london, uk.  currently it is about 2:30 am on monday morning and i am suffering from a form of insomnia not experienced since the nights i spent avoiding my thesis during my last year of university.  lately, i have become quite the expert in saying something without saying anything at all.  with every new day, i fall in love with london just a little bit more but still this nagging sense of fear constantly pulls at my sides.  i am quickly realizing that it is simply impossible to communicate important messages simply through the use of words alone.  it is perhaps naive of me to hope that the people with whom i share a genuine connection with can simply sense my feelings through osmosis so sitting here listening to squarepusher, i will try my best to express my current state of being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ignore fact and reason, live entirely in the world of your own fantastic and myth-producing passions; do this whole-heartedly and with conviction, and you will become one of the prophets of your age", so said the great bertrand russell.  &lt;br /&gt;these are the words that have encouraged me to take the leap and leave the comforts of my beloved toronto, and every day i have to quietly repeat them to myself over and over again so that i may gain the courage that i need to face the obstacles that lay before me.  i have always been a dreamer in my core, but the will to follow through have often posed to be problematic.  it's funny but despite all my proclamations of self worth and confidence, a resounding fear continues to knaw at me, deep in my bones.  i know that i've often been labelled a drama queen - yes this is a fact that i cannot deny.  i've tried to change, i really have, but such efforts have proved fruitless so i am forced to work with the person i am - paranoia and all.  since i am attempting to reveal myself completely now, i feel it is integral to be as brutally honest as i can be.  i wake up in the mornings, smile a little at the thought of me in london, and hit the ground running.  i hope for the tide to turn, and each day i feel i have shaken a little more of 'the fear'.  having read hunter s. thompson's 'fear and loathing in las vegas' obssessively though i am not on drugs as he was, nevertheless 'the fear' takes hold of me and during these moments i have to stop whatever it is that i'm doing to repeat the mantra once more for good measure.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ignore fact and reason, live entirely in the world of your own fantastic and myth-producing passions; do this whole-heartedly and with conviction, and you will become one of the prophets of your age."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am nothing great, but these words help me see the clearing beyond my immediate surrounding.  the hope for the realization of success is out there, and it is helpful that the view gets more clear as time passes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's the little things that keeps one going.. the other day as i was riding the tube on my way back to kentish town from london bridge just as my ipod ran out of batteries, serendipitously a flamenco guitarist and his accordian accompaniment jumped into the car and began playing 'la vie en rose'.  &lt;br /&gt;i closed my eyes for a while, listening to the music... and for a brief moment i could actually smell the roses..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes this is london, and i fucking love it here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4799238115660573606-4762480937900867607?l=annerien.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/feeds/4762480937900867607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4799238115660573606&amp;postID=4762480937900867607' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4762480937900867607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4799238115660573606/posts/default/4762480937900867607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annerien.blogspot.com/2007/06/this-is-how-i-roll-uk-edition.html' title='this is how i roll - the UK edition'/><author><name>a.rien</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03362002612265654707</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/crazee_girrlie/ak.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
