<?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-18177439</id><updated>2011-11-24T15:05:23.915-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mike's Journal</title><subtitle type='html'>The everyday life of Michael Velarde, if anyone cares.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-6741911554802127489</id><published>2008-04-07T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T16:37:25.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I haven’t updated my blog in a long time, maybe because I don’t see any reason for informing the whole world about every single thing I do. I have been planning to create a new blog for a while now—something that I can actually maintain, and perhaps, something of worth. I’ve thought of ‘blogging’ about women’s health, biotechnology, or maybe &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Philippines&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, since these are the things that I’m passionate about, and they are sort of important. But somehow, it’s so hard to decide which one is the best. Then Easter Sunday came. &lt;a href="http://www.sfbible.org/"&gt;San Francisco Bible Church&lt;/a&gt; had a baptismal service that day. Hearing the testimony of fellow believers, who are being baptized in water, I remembered my own. And it became so clear to me—I need to blog about my Faith. So here is my &lt;a href="http://mvdevotions.blogspot.com/"&gt;new blog address&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a href="http://mvdevotions.blogspot.com/"&gt;mvdevotions.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-6741911554802127489?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/6741911554802127489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=6741911554802127489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/6741911554802127489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/6741911554802127489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2008/04/new-blog.html' title='New Blog'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-4452738736947546831</id><published>2008-03-16T15:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T15:25:15.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last entry</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone. I haven't updated my blog in a long time and I probably won't anymore. I plan to create a different blog. I will create a link from this website to the new one, once I make it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-4452738736947546831?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/4452738736947546831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=4452738736947546831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/4452738736947546831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/4452738736947546831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2008/03/last-entry.html' title='Last entry'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-1365436025003046640</id><published>2007-09-23T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T00:38:29.757-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brazilian Treat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Last week was a Brazilian week for me. I went to a Brazilian church (of course the English version) and my Brazilian co-worker treated me out to dinner. I didn’t know Brazilians are very nice! We went to &lt;a href="http://espetus.com/"&gt;Espetus&lt;/a&gt;, an authentic Brazilian restaurant—too authentic that almost everyone speaks Portuguese.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcSZJXCnOI/AAAAAAAAABM/f5Gw0MgxcTU/s1600-h/Espetus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcSZJXCnOI/AAAAAAAAABM/f5Gw0MgxcTU/s200/Espetus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113576125121076450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The restaurant is slightly expensive, but the food was awesome! We had some fried bananas and palantas (I think that’s what they’re called), which slightly taste like tofu. (Left to right: Michelle, my coworker's wife, and one of their kids, Rafael)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcSZZXCnPI/AAAAAAAAABU/_3sratiPxWY/s1600-h/Fried_palanta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcSZZXCnPI/AAAAAAAAABU/_3sratiPxWY/s200/Fried_palanta.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113576129416043762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The meat is cooked in so many different ways and they just keep on coming! I didn’t know meat is the Brazilian staple food!!! (Left: Ricardo, my co-worker)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcSZZXCnQI/AAAAAAAAABc/cw22tifSsTI/s1600-h/meat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcSZZXCnQI/AAAAAAAAABc/cw22tifSsTI/s200/meat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113576129416043778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-1365436025003046640?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/1365436025003046640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=1365436025003046640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/1365436025003046640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/1365436025003046640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2007/09/brazilian-treat.html' title='Brazilian Treat'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcSZJXCnOI/AAAAAAAAABM/f5Gw0MgxcTU/s72-c/Espetus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-5499668124513535376</id><published>2007-09-23T17:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T00:38:30.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer in San Francisco</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;San Francisco&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; weather is very strange—it is cold during the middle of the summer, about 65-70 F (16-21 C). In fact, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;San Francisco&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; gets foggy once in a while at this time. The June-to-September gloom, perhaps, is a result of the collision between the cold weather from the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Pacific  Ocean&lt;/st1:place&gt; and the hot weather from the dessert. Imagine, this can happen in one day!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcGx5XCnNI/AAAAAAAAABE/6Ov3bfhcZ1M/s1600-h/Fog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcGx5XCnNI/AAAAAAAAABE/6Ov3bfhcZ1M/s200/Fog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113563356183305426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;“The coldest winter I ever saw was the summer I spent in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;San Francisco&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;.”—Mark Twain.&lt;/i&gt; (I think this is the most quoted description about &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;San Francisco&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, and I’m quoting it, too.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-5499668124513535376?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/5499668124513535376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=5499668124513535376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/5499668124513535376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/5499668124513535376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2007/09/summer-in-san-francisco.html' title='Summer in San Francisco'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RvcGx5XCnNI/AAAAAAAAABE/6Ov3bfhcZ1M/s72-c/Fog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-8888135509661743149</id><published>2007-09-09T22:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T00:38:31.371-08:00</updated><title type='text'>San Francisco!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Thinking that one year had already passed, I guess it’s about time to update my blog. Well… I’m now working in the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;University&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; of &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;California San   Francisco&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. It’s an amazing school; an excellent place for postdocs. Not only do I have a nice boss, a fun lab, and an excellent job experience, I also have an awesome view!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTXIye2HUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wXL21-bbCd4/s1600-h/View.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTXIye2HUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wXL21-bbCd4/s200/View.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108444423335058754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I can see the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Golden Gate&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Bridge&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; from where I work. I can also see the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Gate_Park"&gt;Golden Gate Park. &lt;/a&gt;(middle picture, filled with trees). It’s a huge park, and it’s awesome! Since I live close to the park, I get to walk the park during weekends. I get to see these:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTVzye2HOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uJZWTAiuMPM/s1600-h/Botanical_garden1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTVzye2HOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uJZWTAiuMPM/s200/Botanical_garden1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108442963046178018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTVzye2HPI/AAAAAAAAAAU/j5eefFyKBuo/s1600-h/botanical_garden2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTVzye2HPI/AAAAAAAAAAU/j5eefFyKBuo/s200/botanical_garden2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108442963046178034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTV0Ce2HQI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gV_6AUUqoN4/s1600-h/Japanese_tea_garden.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTV0Ce2HQI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gV_6AUUqoN4/s200/Japanese_tea_garden.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108442967341145346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTWlye2HSI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sYoTs1Co8Q0/s1600-h/Spreckles_Lake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTWlye2HSI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sYoTs1Co8Q0/s200/Spreckles_Lake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108443822039637282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTWmCe2HTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/geDr4Vgi_fU/s1600-h/Stow_lake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTWmCe2HTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/geDr4Vgi_fU/s200/Stow_lake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108443826334604594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There’s always something happening in the park. Just yesterday, there was a peace rally at the Speedway Meadows, called the “&lt;a href="http://www.sfstation.com/9th-annunal-911-power-to-the-people-festival-e98811"&gt;911 Power to the Peaceful Festival&lt;/a&gt;”. There were LOTS of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTV0Ce2HRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ubhyNFc7-lE/s1600-h/peace_rally.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTV0Ce2HRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ubhyNFc7-lE/s200/peace_rally.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108442967341145362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a concert with artists like Michael Franti, Spearhead, Indigo Girls, etc. (I personally don’t know their music, though). The concert proclaims the value of unity in the midst of differences, exclaiming that “&lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/search/xx/music/pid/6133332/a/Everyone+Deserves+Music.htm"&gt;Everyone Deserves Music&lt;/a&gt;”, irrespective of race or gender. While this song was very inspiring, I was saddened by the next song, which promotes that “&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=Cu-vhqfJMAo"&gt;Nobody’s Right, Nobody’s Wrong&lt;/a&gt;”. Even a non-Christian would agree that there is right and wrong. &lt;i style=""&gt;One plus one equals two is right, any other answer will be wrong!&lt;/i&gt; Difference in background or belief does not exempt anyone from the hand of Justice, but Mercy and Grace can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-8888135509661743149?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/8888135509661743149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=8888135509661743149' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/8888135509661743149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/8888135509661743149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2007/09/thinking-that-one-year-had-already.html' title='San Francisco!!!'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GCIfdcKoYic/RuTXIye2HUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wXL21-bbCd4/s72-c/View.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-115310600743581094</id><published>2006-07-16T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T20:23:07.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boston!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I went to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Boston&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; last end of June for the &lt;a href="http://www.endo-society.org/"&gt;Endo meeting&lt;/a&gt;… and I LOVE BOSTON!!! I just realized how much I miss being in a big city. Unlike &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Manila&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Boston&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; feels much safer. I’m sure there are still crooks around, but I don’t think they can compare with those in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Manila&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Boston&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; is very compact—you can get anywhere by simply walking or riding the subway, which they call the &lt;a href="http://www.mbta.com/traveling_T/schedules_subway_temp.asp"&gt;T&lt;/a&gt;. I wish I could live in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Boston&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;, but the weather… well, I don’t think I can survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I stayed in the &lt;a href="http://www.northeastern.edu/"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Northeastern&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;University&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/a&gt; dorm (left). The meeting was in the  &lt;a href="http://www.mccahome.com/home.html"&gt;Massachusetts &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Convention &amp; Exhibit Center&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (right).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Boston.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Boston.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, What’s up with the &lt;a href="http://boston.cowparade.com/"&gt;cows&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Cows.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Cows.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-115310600743581094?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/115310600743581094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=115310600743581094' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/115310600743581094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/115310600743581094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/07/boston.html' title='Boston!!!'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-115189378322780498</id><published>2006-07-02T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-02T19:29:43.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Hobby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A month ago… I bought a bike! I started biking and it’s so amazing! My typical Sunday afternoons have been riding through our neighborhood and visiting some friends along the way. Here I am with my dorky attire.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Bike.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I am trying to build my stamina, but for now, 12 miles is the farthest I have gone. Crazy enough, I met a Filipino family just by biking! See. You never know what you’ll encounter in the road. Unfortunately, I broke the chain of my bike just today. I had to walk all the way back home. Hopefully, my warranty still stands.&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-115189378322780498?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/115189378322780498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=115189378322780498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/115189378322780498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/115189378322780498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/07/new-hobby.html' title='New Hobby'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-115008806518819515</id><published>2006-06-11T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T22:03:51.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lesson in Friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It’s been an interesting year so far… everybody seems to be leaving!!! After &lt;a href="http://iangetz.com/"&gt;Ian&lt;/a&gt; left for &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Belgium&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, some of my good friends started leaving, too. First, my classmate in graduate school just graduated and got a job in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Tennessee&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;. [Take note of the license plate: Razorbacks (&lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Arkansas&lt;/st1:state&gt;) and Volunteers (&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Tennessee&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;).]&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/house_divided.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/house_divided.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then, &lt;a href="http://hxhsiao.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ivy&lt;/a&gt; left &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Little Rock&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; and transferred to another school.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Ivy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Ivy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cathy, a good Filipino friend, started graduate school in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Kansas&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Cathy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Cathy.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Renea and Julie, my fellow co-workers, accepted jobs at a different lab.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Renea_Julie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Renea_Julie.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oh if that’s not enough, Mats and his wife moved to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Kentucky&lt;/st1:state&gt;; Yan, my partner at work, stayed in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;China&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, hence resigned from work; Robert is off to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;India&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; for 13 months and &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=annaphora"&gt;Anna&lt;/a&gt; to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;China&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. What’s going on!? I have to teach these friends of mine about friendship! Hehehe, well… it’s bound to happen anyways, one way or another. I would likely leave &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Little Rock&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Like rafts in flowing streams are we—sometimes we journey with fellow rafts, sometimes we venture alone. And like rafts trusting on the currents’ direction, even so should we put our faith in Him whose sovereign guidance is beyond reproach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-115008806518819515?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/115008806518819515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=115008806518819515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/115008806518819515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/115008806518819515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/06/lesson-in-friendship.html' title='A Lesson in Friendship'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-114627987374513567</id><published>2006-04-28T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T20:05:35.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumpling Party</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday, we had a dumpling party at our house! We invited some friends over. &lt;a href="http://hxhsiao.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ivy&lt;/a&gt; brought all the ingredients needed for making &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dumpling"&gt;Chinese dumplings&lt;/a&gt;. She also taught everyone how to prepare dumplings—basically how to wrap seasoned meat in dough.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/making_dumplings.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/making_dumplings.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then, she taught everyone how to boil or fry the dumplings.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Cooking_dumpling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Cooking_dumpling.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Aside from the &lt;b style=""&gt;450&lt;/b&gt; dumplings we made, other people also brought other types of food. We have way too much food!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/FOOD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/FOOD.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;So if you don’t have any food at your house or you don’t know how to prepare any good food— just simply invite your friends over… say you have a party… and make them cook for you.&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-114627987374513567?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/114627987374513567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=114627987374513567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114627987374513567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114627987374513567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/04/dumpling-party.html' title='Dumpling Party'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-114602145640537913</id><published>2006-04-25T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T20:17:36.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Petit Jean Mountain</title><content type='html'>April 8, Saturday, was an interesting day. The &lt;a href="http://www.ifoarkansas.org/"&gt;International Friendship Outreach (IFO)&lt;/a&gt; was having a picnic at &lt;a href="http://www.petitjeanstatepark.com/"&gt;Petit Jean Mountain&lt;/a&gt; that day. Since I’ve never been there, I was eager to go. But hmmm…. unfortunately, I really don’t have enough time. After working at about 10:30 am and a 30-min drive to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Morrilton&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Arkansas&lt;/st1:state&gt;, I only have about 4 hours to spare in the park, before I’m opted to go back to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Little   Rock&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; to develop a (photo) film for an extremely good friend of mine and to attend a friend’s wedding reception. Okay… maybe 4 hours is short, but I know I can still enjoy. So I did—helped with setting up the food and table; had lunch with a bunch of good friends; and then, went hiking at around 2pm. Well, it’s really just walking.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Walk3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Walk3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  And walking…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Walk4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Walk4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And walking…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Walk2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Walk2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And walking…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Walk1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Walk1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;AND OH! It’s already pass 3pm! I think I’m kind of late. Don’t I have to go back to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Little Rock&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;? Well… YEAH! For some reason, I thought the walk will only take less than an hour; apparently, I did not read this sign.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Sign1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Sign1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I also thought that I can simply quit in the middle of the hike and run back if I’m really late; but the route is a circle! By the time I decided to head back, we are already in the middle of the hike. At least 1 hour whichever path I take. Oh well… so much for being on time.&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got out, it’s already pass 4 pm!!! And I was EXTREMELY tired…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Tired.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Tired.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay fine… that’s a bit exaggerated. If you think about it though, we did manage to finish the course in 2 hours instead of 4. And hey, I abided by the trail motto—I took lots and lots of irrelevant pictures.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Pictures.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Pictures.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-114602145640537913?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/114602145640537913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=114602145640537913' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114602145640537913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114602145640537913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/04/petit-jean-mountain.html' title='Petit Jean Mountain'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-114299642583097829</id><published>2006-03-21T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T19:00:25.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brigid’s Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>Few weeks ago, I’ve met Brigid. She’s from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Kenya&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and it’s her first time in US. Only been here about 2 months, she really doesn’t know a lot of people. Well… her birthday was coming up, but she doesn’t know what to do. So… Laura and I planned to have a birthday party for her at the Neale’s place! A bunch of international friends were there.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Friends.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Friends.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Laura even made a very decorative cake. We cut the cake into pieces depending on whose birthday was next.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Cake.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Cake.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The best part, though, was seeing Brigid enjoying her special day.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Brigid.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Brigid.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-114299642583097829?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/114299642583097829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=114299642583097829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114299642583097829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114299642583097829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/03/brigids-birthday-party.html' title='Brigid’s Birthday Party'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-114015348962386081</id><published>2006-02-16T21:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T21:18:09.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Undeserve Birthday Gifts</title><content type='html'>Back in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Philippines&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, I feel so privileged to be spoiled by my family every time my birthday arrives. In fact this year, my mom gave me a long distance call to just greet me “Happy Birthday”. I even got a chance to talk to my dad and my brother Jo. But I never expected to be pampered by my friends here in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Little Rock&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. It was suppose to be an ordinary day for me yesterday—work in the lab, try to finish counting cells, and generate data. But unexpectedly, I was greeted happy birthday by my lab mates. They gave me a unique birthday card with all their individual greetings and they even gave me a gift card!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/labmates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/labmates.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then it was like a domino effect that everybody started greeting me. Surprisingly, it did not end there. In fact, it was just beginning. Later that afternoon, my best friend gave me a long distance call… from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;BELGIUM&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;!!! Man!!! My first birthday greeting from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Belgium&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;! What more can I ask! Then after work, my roommate and I got home. He asked me if I’ve checked the refrigerator lately, because it smells weird. As soon as I opened the refrigerator I saw this huge box of strawberry/blueberry cheesecake!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/chessecake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/chessecake.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   Imagine that! My roommate took off from work at lunch time to buy this cake and put it in the fridge. How thoughtful was that! Then on top of all these, I got a birthday card in the mail from Mr. and Mrs. Gerke! That’s it right? No! Afterwards, Elijah was kind enough to pick me up, bring me to church… and even buy me dinner, because it was my birthday!!! I was even given a free cake! And in the middle of enjoying all of these things, I was greeted Happy Birthday by Mr. Bob and Mrs. Kay Savory! And oh, a little bit later I saw Mrs. Gerke in the hallway and she gave me a birthday hug. That means TWO presents from her already! What a birthday! Then… thinking that my birthday celebration is about done, I was greeted happy birthday by Mrs. Arnold. What a finale! And oh… I have not even mentioned the indescribable, inimitable birthday song by the choir Sunday afternoon. All of these on my unimportant birthday that I did not even plan to celebrate…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-114015348962386081?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/114015348962386081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=114015348962386081' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114015348962386081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/114015348962386081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/02/undeserve-birthday-gifts.html' title='Undeserve Birthday Gifts'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113937222733519030</id><published>2006-02-07T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T20:17:07.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese New Year</title><content type='html'>Being part Chinese, I get to celebrate two New Year’s Day: Filipino/American New Year on Jan 1 and a Chinese New Year, which varies depending on the lunar calendar (around Jan-Feb). This year, Chinese New Year was on Jan 29. I was able to celebrate it at Frontier Grill with some new and old friends: Vicky, me, Ivy, and Ranuma (from left to right).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Chinese%20New%20Year%20ang%20pao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Chinese%20New%20Year%20ang%20pao.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I even got a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_envelope"&gt;red envelope&lt;/a&gt; [&lt;i style=""&gt;hong bao&lt;/i&gt; (mandarin) or &lt;i style=""&gt;ang pao&lt;/i&gt; (fookien / taiwanese)] with $2 dollars in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113937222733519030?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113937222733519030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113937222733519030' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113937222733519030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113937222733519030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/02/chinese-new-year.html' title='Chinese New Year'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113841252075874185</id><published>2006-01-27T17:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T17:42:00.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Party for the Big Guys</title><content type='html'>This morning, we celebrated the birthdays of Charles, Rijin, and Bhuvanesh—the adults in the lab. Man! Combining their ages makes more than a century.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Birthday_boys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Birthday_boys.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hmmm… makes me wonder what happens to me when I’m their age. Would I have a wonderful family? Would I marry or even have a girlfriend? Would I have a successful career? Would I ever graduate!!!&lt;br /&gt;But if you think about it, I’m really not that far behind from them, am I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113841252075874185?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113841252075874185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113841252075874185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113841252075874185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113841252075874185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/01/birthday-party-for-big-guys.html' title='Birthday Party for the Big Guys'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113825030586135051</id><published>2006-01-25T20:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T20:48:06.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nathanael and Elen’s Wedding</title><content type='html'>Last January 7, Nathanael and Elen were married. It was an amazing wedding! I personally like it when the bride and groom sang to each other—since both of them have extremely good voices, the ceremony was like a fairy tale in real life. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take any pictures during the wedding… But, I took some pictures after the reception, which was held at the “Pavilion in the Park”.&lt;br /&gt;Here's the bride and the groom…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Bride_Groom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Bride_Groom.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The groom with his brother…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Brothers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Brothers.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The bride with her sisters…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Sisters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Sisters.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And of course, the bride and her best friend, the bride’s maid.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/best_friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/best_friends.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After everybody ate, Dr. Neale, Nathanael, and Noah (groom's brother) each gave a speech, which was followed by a short presentation. Later, the bride and groom danced together. Then the bride danced with her dad, while the groom danced with his mom.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/parent_child.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/parent_child.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   Then each couple danced together.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/partners.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/partners.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   Then everybody danced!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Dance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Dance.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everybody seems so happy.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Reception.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Reception.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Perhaps some of us are happier than everybody else.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Ryan_and_cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Ryan_and_cake.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But altogether, I would say this is a great wedding!&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, though, I’ve always considered weddings as a mere waste of money—you really don’t need the luxurious dresses, the fancy decorations, the impressive invitation cards, the astonishing chorale, the grandiose banquet. All you really need are the people in the wedding-- bride and groom, pastor/lawyer, family and friends. But for some reason, all these unnecessary things are able to amplify the importance of a wedding celebration. Maybe… it’s not really a waste of money after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113825030586135051?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113825030586135051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113825030586135051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113825030586135051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113825030586135051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/01/nathanael-and-elens-wedding_25.html' title='Nathanael and Elen’s Wedding'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113720423775300658</id><published>2006-01-13T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T18:04:53.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Colors of Fall</title><content type='html'>Growing up in a tropical climate, I never get to experience the colorful scene of fall until I came here—Trees dress themselves with reds and yellows, bushes blend with their crimsons and violets, while the wind blows the leaves until they gently glide towards the ground… AND YEAH! This is when it gets bad! You have to rake leaves, especially if you are living in a house. And this is me spending about four hours raking…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Raking%20leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Raking%20leaves.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113720423775300658?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113720423775300658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113720423775300658' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113720423775300658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113720423775300658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/01/colors-of-fall.html' title='The Colors of Fall'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113712063527689026</id><published>2006-01-12T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T18:50:35.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year! 2006 is Here!</title><content type='html'>How was your New Year’s Eve? Well, Jonathan and Spring invited me to eat at &lt;a href="http://www.carinos.com/"&gt;Johnny Carino’s&lt;/a&gt; along with some friends.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Carino%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Carino%27s.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then, we played “the 80’s and 90’s music game”...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/playing%20games.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/playing%20games.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and “Catch phrase” at Jonathan and Spring’s house.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Playing%20games2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Playing%20games2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then, it’s 2006!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Happy%202006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Happy%202006.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It’s amazing that it’s already 2006. So many things had happened in the past years, and yet I still ask the same question everybody asks, “Where did time go?” It feels like waking up from a lucid dream, wondering if any of those actually happened—came to the States to study, went to scientific meetings, visit home after a long time, met new friends in Little Rock, found a good church, found a best friend, say ‘see you later’ to him… Oh how I wish I’m still dreaming! But I guess…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just have to go back to bed and dream some more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113712063527689026?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113712063527689026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113712063527689026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113712063527689026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113712063527689026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-new-year-2006-is-here.html' title='Happy New Year! 2006 is Here!'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113694712042273530</id><published>2006-01-10T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T18:39:18.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>IFO party at the McGee’s</title><content type='html'>Before the New Year, my roommate invited me to attend a party at Lajuana’s house. She heads the &lt;a href="http://www.ifoarkansas.org/"&gt;International Friendship Outreach (IFO)&lt;/a&gt;. She loves internationals and internationals love her-- I am so fortunate to know her. Here is a picture of Rebecca and Lajuana…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Rebecca%20and%20LaJuana.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Rebecca%20and%20LaJuana.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And some more pictures of the new people I’ve met and the good food I ate.   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Party%20at%20the%20McGee.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Party%20at%20the%20McGee.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I’m very thankful for IFO. It is the main reason why I was able to adjust here in Little Rock in the first place—like finding a good church and meeting friends. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113694712042273530?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113694712042273530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113694712042273530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113694712042273530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113694712042273530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/01/ifo-party-at-mcgees.html' title='IFO party at the McGee’s'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113666563838576002</id><published>2006-01-07T12:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T12:29:22.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mats is back from Sweden</title><content type='html'>Mats used to help me a lot with my experiments, especially during my youthful years in the lab, but after he was done with his postdoc, he went back home to &lt;a href="http://www2.stockholm.se/english/"&gt;Stockholm, Sweden&lt;/a&gt;. Well now, he’s back in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Little Rock&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; for sometime. Last week, Mats, me, Rohit, Bhuvanesh, and Kartik (from left to right) went to a Mexican restaurant called &lt;a href="http://www.thecityoflittlerock.com/la-hacienda/"&gt;La Hacienda&lt;/a&gt;. I am not a big fan of Mexican food, but this restaurant is awesome!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/ACNC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/ACNC.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s really great to see a good friend again after a long time. It is like opening an old chest and picking up memories one by one.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113666563838576002?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113666563838576002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113666563838576002' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113666563838576002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113666563838576002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/01/mats-is-back-from-sweden.html' title='Mats is back from Sweden'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113650752534025832</id><published>2006-01-05T16:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T16:32:05.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Colorful drink</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Juice_mix.jpg"&gt;  &lt;/a&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just had to put this in the blog. Anna made this juice. It just looks cool.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Juice_mix.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Juice_mix.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By the way, David and Laura are in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113650752534025832?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113650752534025832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113650752534025832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113650752534025832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113650752534025832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2006/01/colorful-drink_05.html' title='Colorful drink'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113590447827920837</id><published>2005-12-29T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T17:01:18.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas at the Neale’s</title><content type='html'>Of course, I have to go to the Neale’s on Christmas day!&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I arrived, everybody was opening presents.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Opening_presents.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Opening_presents.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I was surprised to get a gift myself. It's a 512 MB memory card for my camera. Aren’t the Neale’s the best!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/My_gift.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/My_gift.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Some of us were too excited with our gifts, though.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Excited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Excited.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometime later, Ian called my cell phone from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Belgium&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;!!! I got to use my speaker phone feature so everybody can talk to him. It got a bit crazy because everybody started talking simultaneously, proving how everybody misses him so much. Sadly, we had to say goodbye and let him sleep through the night.Afterwards, Noah played “Prince of Persia” in X-box, while all of us were intently watching.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Video_game.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Video_game.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then… it’s dinner time! We had good food, and we even had a HUGE lamb leg.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Dinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Dinner.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At the dinner table, there is a candy-looking thing, called a popper, lying in front of each person. When you pull its sides, it will “pop”, and you can find a small gift inside accompanied by some jokes imprinted on a piece of paper. I got a house-shaped eraser.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/poppers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/poppers.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I think Noah enjoyed his popper gift very much.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Noah%27s_piercing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Noah%27s_piercing.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After dinner, we played games—“Apples to Apples” and “Picture Telephone”&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Games.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Games.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And for our Christmas finale? We watched “Merry Christmas Mr. Bean”.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113590447827920837?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113590447827920837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113590447827920837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113590447827920837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113590447827920837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-at-neales.html' title='Christmas at the Neale’s'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113572470767890103</id><published>2005-12-27T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T15:05:07.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fitzrandolph’s and the Savory’s</title><content type='html'>Christmas Day, I was invited to the Fitzradolph’s house. As usual, there were a lot of people.   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Party.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Party.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It’s always fun hanging out with them, because it reminds me of my own family back in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Manila&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. Like them, we too have a huge family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113572470767890103?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113572470767890103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113572470767890103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113572470767890103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113572470767890103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/fitzrandolphs-and-savorys.html' title='The Fitzrandolph’s and the Savory’s'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113564038844334736</id><published>2005-12-26T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T18:18:57.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Quay’s</title><content type='html'>Last Friday I went to the Quay’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/The%20Quay%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/The%20Quay%27s.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We had lasagna, salad, garlic bread, and sesame bread… thanks Mrs. Quay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Mrs%20Quay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Mrs%20Quay.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We watched War of the Worlds… at least some of us. (Bottom to top: Nathaniel, Elen, Dr. Quay, Anna, and Gena)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Watching%20WOW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Watching%20WOW.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The rest of the group was playing “&lt;a href="http://www.worldofwarcraft.com/"&gt;World of Warcraft&lt;/a&gt;” (Left to right: Noah and Ryan)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Playing%20WOW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Playing%20WOW.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This night was very memorable to me because of what Dr. Quay had shared. It was nothing obvious, but it was when he told the story about Mr. Eddington. Dr. Quay said that they’ve been friends for about 40 years now and they’re still good friends. These words struck me. Even though they are miles apart, Dr. Quay and Mr. Eddington are still best of friends, even their kids get along so well. Now I am convinced that distance and time can never ever separate true friendship. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113564038844334736?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113564038844334736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113564038844334736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113564038844334736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113564038844334736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/quays.html' title='The Quay’s'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113563473213993834</id><published>2005-12-26T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T14:05:32.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bashim’s</title><content type='html'>Last Thursday, Anna invited me to the Bashim’s house. We had a small party, played a game, talked…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Bashim%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Bashim%27s.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I had a photography lesson from Anna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Photo_lesson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Photo_lesson.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113563473213993834?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113563473213993834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113563473213993834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113563473213993834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113563473213993834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/bashims.html' title='The Bashim’s'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113546152125568087</id><published>2005-12-24T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T13:58:41.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Belgian Chocolates</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;Sometimes I wish I’m in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Belgium&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, not because of the place itself, but because of a buddy of mine who’s there. Apparently, I’m not the only one who misses him. Anna bought some Belgian chocolates so we can all remember Ian together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/The%20Neale%27s.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/The%20Neale%27s.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113546152125568087?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113546152125568087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113546152125568087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113546152125568087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113546152125568087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/belgian-chocolates.html' title='Belgian Chocolates'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113546055676463511</id><published>2005-12-24T13:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T13:42:36.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Party</title><content type='html'>The &lt;a href="http://222mission.blogspot.com/"&gt;222 &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Mission&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/a&gt; had a Christmas party last Monday night. The adults had games…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Games.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Games.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;While the kids played their own games&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Kids_playing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Kids_playing.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes, the kids wanted to play with the adults…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Kid_playing%20with_adults.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Kid_playing%20with_adults.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And sometimes, the adults (me) wanted to play with the kids (Xander)…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Playing_with_Xander.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Playing_with_Xander.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We also played Dirty Santa—where people will bring wrapped gifts then draw a number. The person with number 1 will go first and pick any gift, and then the person with the next number will either steal the opened gift or pick any of the wrapped gifts. And so on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Dirty%20Santa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Dirty%20Santa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I ended up with a cool-looking Christmas ornament. Unfortunately, I do not have a Christmas tree, so I had to put it on my roommate’s tree. It’s too big for the tree though.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Christmas%20Tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Christmas%20Tree.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://222mission.blogspot.com/2005/12/222-christmas-party-success.html"&gt;Click here for more pictures&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113546055676463511?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113546055676463511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113546055676463511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113546055676463511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113546055676463511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-party.html' title='Christmas Party'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113521047549845886</id><published>2005-12-21T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T13:44:40.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lab Lunch Dec 2005</title><content type='html'>I work at &lt;a href="http://www.acnc.uams.edu/"&gt;Arkansas Children’s &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Nutrition&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Center&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and on Monday, December 19 was our Lab lunch. Our bosses, Dr. Rosie (my adviser) and Dr. Frank treat us out. Free food! Aren’t they great! Here is a picture of our group at Cozy Mel’s (Mexican restaurant). From left to right (clockwise): Dr. Frank, Dr. José, Yan, Ying, Dr. Rosie, Reneé, Charles, Mary, Julie, Renea, Me, Rijin &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Dec%202005%20Lab%20Lunch-%20Cozy%20Mel%27s-b.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Dec%202005%20Lab%20Lunch-%20Cozy%20Mel%27s-b.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113521047549845886?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113521047549845886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113521047549845886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113521047549845886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113521047549845886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/lab-lunch-dec-2005.html' title='Lab Lunch Dec 2005'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113520931723688733</id><published>2005-12-21T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T16:17:34.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Friend from India</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine, Pravin, has a friend who’s doing an interview at UAMS on Friday for Medical Residency. But since he is already in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Wisconsin&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;, Pravin requested if we can offer his friend a place to stay. So last Thursday morning was the time that I picked up his friend Vimal from the &lt;a href="http://www.greyhound.com/home.asp"&gt;Greyhound bus station&lt;/a&gt;. I dropped him at the house and went back to work. Since I work late, my roommate got the chance to talk with him more. While I was driving home, my roommate decided that we should all go to Star of India (Restaurant). I guess… because Vimal is Indian? After a good dinner, we went back to the house and watched Indiana Jones and the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Temple&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;  of &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Doom&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;!!! Why… because there are characters in the movie that speak Hindi (and other Indian languages)—our Indian friend can translate it for us. I’m very sure that Vimal was already exhausted from his 12 hour bus trip and wanted to go to bed instead of watching Indiana Jones; plus, he has to get up the next day for an important interview. But, my roommate insisted that we watch the movie. Well… Vimal seem to enjoy his stay with us, though. That’s what he said, at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Vimal%20Pahuja.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Vimal%20Pahuja.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113520931723688733?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113520931723688733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113520931723688733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113520931723688733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113520931723688733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/friend-from-india.html' title='A Friend from India'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113512919394607407</id><published>2005-12-20T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T17:39:53.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Concert at Tucker Prison</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last Tuesday, December 13, the BCLR choir sang at Tucker Prison—something that the choir does every year. I took pictures of the prison itself, but unfortunately, I can’t bring my camera inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Tucker_Prison.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Tucker_Prison.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was amazed by the Christmas lights outside the prison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Outside_Prison.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Outside_Prison.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Singing at Tucker Prison reminds me of what Pastor Todd always says. It is only by the grace of God that we are not in prison-- God’s grace prevented us from breaking the law; without His grace, we, too, deserve to be imprisoned. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113512919394607407?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113512919394607407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113512919394607407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113512919394607407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113512919394607407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-concert-at-tucker-prison.html' title='Christmas Concert at Tucker Prison'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113478417032159390</id><published>2005-12-16T17:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T09:36:34.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BCLR Christmas Concert</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last Sunday, the Bible Church of Little Rock (BCLR) Choir and Orchestra had a Christmas concert at the church. There were a lot of people who attended including some of my co-workers. It’s amazing how big the choir is and how diverse the orchestra is… we even had a huge harp!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/BCLR_Choir_%20and_Orchestra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/BCLR_Choir_%20and_Orchestra.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Having a quartet was great. I don’t think the choir sang with a quartet before, at least not in the 3 ½ years of my BCLR-life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Quartet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Quartet.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The soloists are awesome, too. As always, Mr. Joe Gerke rendered a breathtaking solo of “Joseph’s Song”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Mr._Joe_Gerke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Mr._Joe_Gerke.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Esther sang this dark yet peaceful lullaby of “Pieta”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Rita.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Rita.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Of course, Pastor Todd Murray also gave a solo. “Where Do Christmas Begin?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Pastor_Todd_Muray_solo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Pastor_Todd_Muray_solo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By the way, I’m part of the choir, too!!! My photographer (no offense) was not able to include me in the pictures while the choir was on stage. But anyway, what I really like the most is when Pastor Todd and other people gave the introduction to each song. Explaining why we sing what we sing. Only because of these preludes that I am truly able to sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Pastor_Todd_Muray.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Pastor_Todd_Muray.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113478417032159390?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113478417032159390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113478417032159390' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113478417032159390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113478417032159390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/bclr-christmas-concert.html' title='BCLR Christmas Concert'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113477469448673689</id><published>2005-12-16T15:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T13:57:01.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Rock State Capitol</title><content type='html'>I’ve always wanted to take a picture of the State Capitol when the Christmas lights are on. Thanks to my new digital camera, I definitely got a chance to do this. Awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Little%20Rock%20Capitol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Little%20Rock%20Capitol.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113477469448673689?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113477469448673689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113477469448673689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113477469448673689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113477469448673689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/little-rock-state-capitol.html' title='Little Rock State Capitol'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113392482039855765</id><published>2005-12-06T19:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T19:09:19.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ian’s Off to Belgium</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;Tuesday, December 6. The big day. &lt;a href="http://iangetz.com/"&gt;Ian&lt;/a&gt;’s off to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Belgium&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. Last day to hang out with my best friend… Although we have only met each other for about 3 years, it seems like we’ve known each other all our lives. &lt;i style=""&gt;For every beginning there is truly an end&lt;/i&gt;, and this is it! Now that he is set for a new beginning, I feel like I’m also starting anew. Sadly, I wasn’t able to take his picture right before he left. All I have is a photo of the sofa that I’ve slept on when I was at his place the night before he left…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/The%20sofa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/The%20sofa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113392482039855765?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113392482039855765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113392482039855765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113392482039855765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113392482039855765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/ians-off-to-belgium.html' title='Ian’s Off to Belgium'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113392469160048963</id><published>2005-12-06T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T19:04:51.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;It is so amazing what you can do with a camera always in your pocket. You can take a picture of almost anything you want. My friend/co-worker &lt;a href="http://www.acnc.uams.edu/Faculty.asp?Au=Kartik+Shankar"&gt;Kartik&lt;/a&gt; took these random pictures just around UAMS and ACH campus. The sad part is that we always pass all of these things, but forget to even appreciate how beautiful they can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Simple%20Things.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Simple%20Things.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113392469160048963?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113392469160048963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113392469160048963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113392469160048963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113392469160048963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/12/simple-things.html' title='Simple Things'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113341266517483089</id><published>2005-11-30T20:35:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T19:00:43.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend at the Neale’s</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;I’ve been in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Arkansas&lt;/st1:state&gt; for almost 3½ years now, but I still miss my real home back in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Manila&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;—family, friends, pets, and our house. But the weird thing is… &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Little Rock&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; feels like home, away from home. And I’m sure it’s not really because of the place, because there are not really a lot of things you could do here. Last Sunday reminded me of why I love to be here. Dr. David Neale, Anna’s dad, invited me for lunch at their place. Nothing unusual, since the Neale’s invite me at their house all the time! But wh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;at struck me was… after I said that I feel so embarrassed to be always at their house, he said that I shouldn’t be, because &lt;i style=""&gt;I’m family&lt;/i&gt;. Not only that… When I got to the Neale’s house, Peri Neale, Anna’s mom, greeted me with “&lt;i style=""&gt;Here’s my son!&lt;/i&gt;” So now… how am I suppose to leave Little Rock after this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/The%20Neale%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/The%20Neale%27s.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113341266517483089?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113341266517483089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113341266517483089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113341266517483089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113341266517483089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/11/weekend-at-neales_113341266517483089.html' title='Weekend at the Neale’s'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113305399727078487</id><published>2005-11-26T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T21:02:44.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Camera</title><content type='html'>I bought my first digital camera after Thanksgiving Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Digital_camera.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Digital_camera.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This camera is intended to capture more pictures for my blog, without worrying too much about developing, scanning photos, and spending too much money. I hope to bring my camera everywhere I go, so I can share at least some part of my life to the people I care about. So… to safely keep my camera in my pocket, I’ve made a small pouch for it, made from a clean rag… YES! Made from clean rag! It took me about 1½ hours to stitch it together, but it’s worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Camera_pouch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Camera_pouch.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113305399727078487?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113305399727078487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113305399727078487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113305399727078487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113305399727078487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/11/new-camera.html' title='New Camera'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113305314321404566</id><published>2005-11-26T16:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T21:20:44.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend at JBU</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;John Brown University (JBU) is a university in the northwestern part of Arkansas, called Siloam Springs. My close friend, &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=annaphora"&gt;Anna&lt;/a&gt;, goes to school there. The only time I get to see her is during holidays or whenever she has time to come home in Little Rock. So… this time, I decided to visit her in her school. I organized a bunch of friends from Little Rock who are willing to join me. Since &lt;a href="http://iangetz.com/"&gt;Ian&lt;/a&gt; is leaving for Belgium and he might not see Anna for a long time, he is required to be in this trip. Like me, Jena and Laura (Anna’s sister) are also crazy about this trip. It’s amazing how 4 people can get to know each other just by driving in the same car for about 3½ hours, playing “Would you rather…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Gang%20from%20LR.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Gang%20from%20LR.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By the time we arrived at JBU, we saw Anna and met some of her friends. Jill (far left) is Anna’s roommate and Marilyn (far right) was Anna’s old roommate from Guatemala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/JBU%20friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/JBU%20friends.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So what did we do in JBU? We went to the Health Fair. I am surprised that we actually enjoyed the Health Fair. We exercised with a bunch of people and an inflated heart, and got my blood pressure and sugar levels checked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Health%20Fair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Health%20Fair.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Later, we toured the campus and we went to the so-called “Hundred steps”. I acted as if I fell down the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Hundred%20Steps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Hundred%20Steps.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We also played the famous “spoons” and some more games, like “picture telephone”. We met some more of Anna’s friends, and got to see a familiar face who I’ve met in the Philippines, Steven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Games.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Games.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sadly, everything has to end and we had to leave. But the trip itself was awesome. Although I wish I could freeze time, just long enough to completely savor the fragrance of friendship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113305314321404566?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113305314321404566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113305314321404566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113305314321404566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113305314321404566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/11/weekend-at-jbu.html' title='Weekend at JBU'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113167935048550386</id><published>2005-11-10T19:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T22:33:20.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Rock Airshow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The Little Rock Airforce base had an air show few months ago. I’ve never been to one, so I was excited to watch it. It was an amazing experience. There were planes on the ground for exhibit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Planes.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Planes.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We saw a guy in an inflated costume walking around. He looked so deformed, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Inflated_Man.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Inflated_Man.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But what I really like in this air show was seeing the famous Thunderbirds. They were really great! They would do stunts, like gliding belly to belly; making a diamond formation; and flying towards each other in an incredible amount of speed without hitting each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/Thunderbirds.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/Thunderbirds.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But most importantly, they flew across the skies with this sense of pride, distributing a sense of patriotism to the audience below. I envy this. I wish that we, as Filipino individuals, will invest in our country’s future more than what we are doing right now. Fight for our nation’s freedom by igniting that passion to serve our country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113167935048550386?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113167935048550386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113167935048550386' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113167935048550386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113167935048550386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/11/little-rock-airshow.html' title='Little Rock Airshow'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113037856571434698</id><published>2005-10-26T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T22:36:59.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing My Struggles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;OKAY… So I now have a blog. I really don’t know why some people have blogs. But for me, I think it’s a good way to express myself. I believe that people should be more transparent to each other. This way, we can share each other’s hopes and struggles, laughters and tears; and be able to understand exactly how the other person feels. So let me share my struggles… This is my picture when I was a kid. I can’t believe how handsome and fashionable I was compared to my siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/1600/velarde-kid2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1495/1772/200/velarde-kid2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113037856571434698?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113037856571434698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113037856571434698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113037856571434698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113037856571434698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/10/sharing-my-struggles.html' title='Sharing My Struggles'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18177439.post-113002138430040403</id><published>2005-10-22T15:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-22T18:40:46.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First entry</title><content type='html'>I am Michael Velarde. This is my first blog! Whooohooo!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18177439-113002138430040403?l=velardemike.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/feeds/113002138430040403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18177439&amp;postID=113002138430040403' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113002138430040403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18177439/posts/default/113002138430040403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://velardemike.blogspot.com/2005/10/first-entry.html' title='First entry'/><author><name>Michael Velarde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/velardemike/pictures/blogpix.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
