<?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-11182196</id><updated>2011-04-22T07:52:05.725+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick, sad world..</title><subtitle type='html'>My ever changing moods,but no reruns..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111977937260276764</id><published>2005-06-26T16:49:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-06-26T16:49:32.606+07:00</updated><title type='text'>With Dith n DoLo..</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/13010883953063l.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111977937260276764?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111977937260276764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111977937260276764&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111977937260276764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111977937260276764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/06/with-dith-n-dolo.html' title='With Dith n DoLo..'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111977959813409559</id><published>2005-06-26T16:47:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-06-26T16:53:18.136+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goin' Crazy (Natalie)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Ever since the day you went away and left me lonely and coldMy life just hasn't been the same ohh baby, noooWhen I looked into your eyes the moment that I let you goI just broke down (down) Baby if I ever get the chance to be with you again I would sacrificeCuz the feeling that I feel within No other man would ever make me feel so rightIts nice to smile when I get your phone call at nightBut I'd rather have you here with me, right next to meI miss the way you hold me tight[Bridge]I gotta let you know I feel so weak without your touchI never thought that I could ever love a man so muchI gotta let you know I think that we are destinyFor you I'd cross the world, for you I'd do anything[Chorus 2x]Thats right baby I'm going crazyI need to be your ladyI've been thinking latelyThat you and me, yes we can make itJust ride with me, roll with me I'm in love with you babyBreak it down now I'll tell you what I feelFrom the moment that I met you its been so damn realMy heart seems to skip another beatEvery time we speak, I can't believe I feel so weakTell me that you really need me and you want me and you miss meAnd you love me I'm your ladyI'll be around waiting for you I'll put it down be the woman for youI'm falling so deep for you crazy over for youI`m calling, calling out to you what am I going to do?It's true, no frontingIts you and no other i can no longer go on without you I'll just break down (down) [Bridge]I gotta let you know I feel so weak without your touchI never thought that I could ever love a man so muchI gotta let you know I think that we are destinyFor you I'd cross the world, for you I'd do anything[Chorus 2x]Thats right baby I'm going crazyI need to be your ladyI've been thinking latelyThat you and me, yes we can make itJust ride with me, roll with me I'm in love with you babyOhhh, ohhh....Crazy... lady..... lately.... Ohhh ohhh..... Ohh ohhh ohhhhhhBaby... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111977959813409559?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111977959813409559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111977959813409559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111977959813409559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111977959813409559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/06/goin-crazy-natalie.html' title='Goin&apos; Crazy (Natalie)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111977910660955916</id><published>2005-06-26T16:41:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-06-26T16:45:06.700+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Put Your Arms Around Me (Texas)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Are you ready maybe I know where to run Are you ready to let yourself drown Are you holding your breath Are you ready or not Are you ready maybe too long to confess Do you feel that you're already numb Are you sure of yourself Would you lie if you're not You tire me out Don't wanna let that happen A secret scream so loud Why did you let that happen Ooh ooh so put your arms around me You let me believe that you were someone else Ooh ooh cause only time can take you So let me believe That I am someone else Mani, are you ready to break Do you think that I push you too far Would you open yourself Are you reckless some nights You tire me out Don't wanna let that happen A secret scream so loud Why did you let that happen Ooh ooh so put your arms around me You let me believe that you were someone else Ooh ooh cause only time can take you So let me believe That I am someone else You tire me out Don't wanna let that happen A secret scream so loud Why did you let that happen Ooh ooh so put your arms around me You let me believe that you were someone else Ooh ooh cause only time can take you So let me believe That I am someone else Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Sha na na na na Ooh ooh so put your arms around me Ooh ooh so put your arms around me Make me believe Take me take me somewhere Let me believe Cause only time can take you So sha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111977910660955916?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111977910660955916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111977910660955916&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111977910660955916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111977910660955916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/06/put-your-arms-around-me-texas.html' title='Put Your Arms Around Me (Texas)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111622241906797445</id><published>2005-05-16T12:39:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T12:46:59.073+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold You Down (J.Lo/Fat Joe)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Now you've been holding me down For such a long time now From back then To now in my story Straight from the hood You've always been there for me And ya had my back (When they) Back when everybody said I wasn't anything It was you who had me holdin' on No matter what was goin' on So no whatever ya need I got you ...Reminiscing that 6 train from way back Now its sky blue phantoms and stretch may backs Sweepin' them floors in them Bronx apartments Mira esta que on that red carpet With Pun died you was the first to call me I never told you but you was there for me Whatever you need, I'll be there for youCrack - I got ya back for real (True story)..Now my loyalty, will always be With you, if you just promise me That you'll stay real just like you are 'Cause baby you don't have to change ...You don't know how much you mean to me Whenever you down You know that you can lean on me No matter the situation Boy, I'm gon' hold you down...You don't know how much you mean to me Whenever you down You know that you can lean on me No matter the situation Girl, I'm gon' hold you down...2005 Rakim and Jody Watley Why'd she paint such a picture so perfect Quite possibly The real expression from BX To South Beach I'ma always hold you down, girl You can count on me....So remember this whenever I call We go back too far We've been through it all Even though we haven't spoke In so long Ain't nothing has changed Not a damn thing, baby....Now my loyalty, will always be With you, if you just promise me That you'll stay real just like you are 'Cause baby you don't have to change because...You don't know how much you mean to me Whenever you down You know that you can lean on me No matter the situationBoy, I'm gon' hold you down...You don't know how much you mean to me Whenever you down You know that you can lean on me No matter the situation Girl, I'm gon' hold you down...Like green, it's the autumns Things will stay This industry, yeah, I fought Made me this way Get between me and J.Lo I simply stay You better off sweepin' leaves On a windy day (no)....So I don't care about the situation I'ma ride for you if there's a complication Every time you had my back and all When we were yo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111622241906797445?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111622241906797445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111622241906797445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111622241906797445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111622241906797445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/05/hold-you-down-jlofat-joe.html' title='Hold You Down (J.Lo/Fat Joe)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111622189743222550</id><published>2005-05-16T12:38:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T12:38:17.436+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and my girls..</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/12230401561597l.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111622189743222550?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111622189743222550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111622189743222550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111622189743222550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111622189743222550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/05/me-and-my-girls.html' title='Me and my girls..'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111622157158692017</id><published>2005-05-16T12:32:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T12:32:51.590+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rafa,YOU rock my world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/21572454-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111622157158692017?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111622157158692017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111622157158692017&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111622157158692017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111622157158692017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/05/rafayou-rock-my-world.html' title='Rafa,YOU rock my world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111191063757512170</id><published>2005-03-27T15:02:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-27T15:03:57.576+07:00</updated><title type='text'>'till They Take My Heart Away (Claire Marlow)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I'm looking to your eyes, so far away..There's trouble in your mind..You're losing faith..Hey now, let me hold you..It'll be okay!Coz I will love you..Till they take my heart away..Remember when you called.. And said goodbye..We thought we'd lost it al..lAnd so did I..Even if I lost you..I would feel the same..Coz I will love you..Till they take my heart away...Believe in me..I'm here to stay..I will love you..Till they take my heart away...Now we're stronger than before..We've made it throught..I never felt more sure..Because of you..Hey now! Are you listening?Do you hear me say..I will love youTill they take my heart away.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111191063757512170?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111191063757512170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111191063757512170&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111191063757512170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111191063757512170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/till-they-take-my-heart-aw_111191063757512170.html' title='&apos;till They Take My Heart Away (Claire Marlow)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111181104380792614</id><published>2005-03-26T11:24:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-26T11:24:03.806+07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/daria.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111181104380792614?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111181104380792614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111181104380792614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111181104380792614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111181104380792614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/image-hosted-by-photobucketcom.html' title=''/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111181070921435706</id><published>2005-03-26T11:06:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-26T11:18:29.216+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daria Morgendorffer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Daria, is the poster child for "teen misfit," and holds in high contempt what she sees as the shallowness and superficiality of the world around her (qualities which are exemplified by her sister, Quinn).  She is also cynical -- though she'd say she's "realistic" -- and mistrustful of authority, and doesn't hesitate to make her opinions known when she sees fit.  She has a talent for writing, a sharp intellect, an even sharper tongue (her sarcasm could cut tempered steel), and a wit so dry it makes the Sahara look like a rain forest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111181070921435706?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111181070921435706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111181070921435706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111181070921435706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111181070921435706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/daria-morgendorffer.html' title='Daria Morgendorffer'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111180979118384925</id><published>2005-03-26T10:51:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-26T11:06:28.926+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I asked God for a flower, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;he gave me a bouquet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I asked God for a minute,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;he gave me a day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I asked God for true love, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;he gave me that too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I asked for an angel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;and he gave me you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;--- John Raine &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111180979118384925?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111180979118384925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111180979118384925&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111180979118384925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111180979118384925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/poetry.html' title='Poetry'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111106437645982222</id><published>2005-03-17T19:57:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T19:59:36.463+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Do You Tell (Tamia)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;There you were in a crowded room With someone at least I assumed How did I know I would fall in love With you so soon..Just one look in your eyes  And I see the truth And I try hard to hide that I'm made for you But I know deep inside things that we could do Just as long as we're together But..Who do you tell when you love someone Hoping that someone's in love with you Who do you tell when you love someone I think I might as well tell you..I can't believe that I feel this way There is so much that I want to say I wanna touch you, hold you,feel you, please you As we're making love all through the night..We would talk to each other We would laugh and play We would claim it's forever every night and day We would share every minute 'til the test of time In my mind..I've hesitated so many times And I won't let you slip away from me no I know you're for me And me for you But I don't know what to say or to do So now that we're together I'm telling you..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111106437645982222?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111106437645982222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111106437645982222&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111106437645982222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111106437645982222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/who-do-you-tell-tamia.html' title='Who Do You Tell (Tamia)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111106149073094352</id><published>2005-03-17T19:10:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T19:14:47.530+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Life doesn't always turn out the way you planned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;--- While You Were Sleeping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111106149073094352?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111106149073094352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111106149073094352&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111106149073094352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111106149073094352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/thoughts_17.html' title='Thoughts..'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111086164075886788</id><published>2005-03-15T11:40:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T11:40:40.756+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guru</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/guru-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111086164075886788?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111086164075886788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111086164075886788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111086164075886788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111086164075886788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/guru.html' title='The Guru'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111086193131193222</id><published>2005-03-15T11:32:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T11:45:31.316+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramu, you rock!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;--- When he talks, women listen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Dance teacher Ramu leaves India to go to America and join his cousin who is rich and successful. When he arrive he finds that his cousin has lied and that he lives in a flat above a shop with illegals etc. However he sets out to be a film star and auditions for a role that he gets. However when he finds it's in a porno with actress Sharonna he can't go through with it despite her good advice on how to do it. Later he is catering at a party featuring a wise old guru, who gets drunk and passes out. Ramu stands in and repeats the wisdom of Sharonna, freeing the mind of the posh guests and attracting Lexi to him. However to keep the image of him as a sex guru going he has to get more lessons from Sharonna whom he begins to fall for despite using her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111086193131193222?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111086193131193222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111086193131193222&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111086193131193222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111086193131193222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/ramu-you-rock.html' title='Ramu, you rock!'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111045829774962309</id><published>2005-03-10T19:36:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-10T19:44:15.043+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to the Night (Eve6)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;So denied so I lied are you the now or never kind..In a day and a day love I'm gonna be gone for good again..Are you willing to be had.. are you cool with just tonight..Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well..Here's to the nights we felt alive..Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry..Here's to goodbye Tomorrow's gonna come too soon..Put your name on the line along with place and time..Wanna stay not to go I wanna ditch the logical..Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well..Here's to the nights we felt alive..Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry..Here's to goodbye Tomorrow's gonna come too soon..All my time is froze in motion ..Can't I stay an hour or two or more..Don't let me let you go..Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well..Here's to the nights we felt alive..Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry..Here's to goodbye Tomorrow's gonna come too soon..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111045829774962309?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111045829774962309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111045829774962309&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111045829774962309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111045829774962309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/heres-to-night-eve6.html' title='Here&apos;s to the Night (Eve6)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111043148179805280</id><published>2005-03-10T11:38:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-10T12:11:21.803+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unknown..(#1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;1. TAWAG SAYO NG MGA KAIBIGAN MO?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Maruray&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;2. LAGI MONG GINAGAWA?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Matulog, kumain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;3. NAG TUMBANG PRESO KA BA?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;4. PABORITO MONG KANTA SA NGAYON?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Only You (Ashanti)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;5&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;. KAPUSO O KAPAMILYA? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Wala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;6. HULING NAPANOOD MO SA SINEHAN?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Ocean's 12&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;7. AYAW MO SA TAONG.....?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Rude&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;8. GUSTO MO SA TAONG..?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Honest, fun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;9. NAGPAPAPUTOK KA BA SA BAGONG TAON?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Sparklers lang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;10. HABULIN KA BA NG BADING/TOMBOY ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; I don't think so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;11. PABORITO MONG LAPIS?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Wala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;12. EH BOLPEN?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Kahit ano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;13. KAPAG MAY KASAMA KANG UMIIYAK ANONG GAGAWIN MO?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Try to make her/him feel better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;14. EH PAG TUMATAWA?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt; Makitawa din, mukha naman tanga kung sya lang no?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;15. NAKARATING KA NA BA SA MENTAL HOSPITAL?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Hindi pa, pero gusto ko&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;16. ANONG NARARAMDAMAN MO KAPAG KAHARAP MO YUNG CRUSH MO?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Super happy ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;17. MADALAS MONG KAUSAP SA LANDLINE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Grash and Darlene&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;18. MAHILIG KA BA SA TAONG SELOSO?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Depends..Pag si Rafa,ok lang!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;19. ANO ANG NASA ISIP MO SA NGAYON?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Ano kaya kakainin ko mamya..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;20. PANO KA MAGMAHAL?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&gt; Hmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111043148179805280?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111043148179805280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111043148179805280&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111043148179805280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111043148179805280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/unknown1.html' title='The Unknown..(#1)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111037060520807060</id><published>2005-03-09T19:16:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T19:16:45.206+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raven - Symone (of That's So Raven)</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/Raven.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111037060520807060?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111037060520807060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111037060520807060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111037060520807060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111037060520807060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/raven-symone-of-thats-so-raven.html' title='Raven - Symone (of That&apos;s So Raven)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111037029306168596</id><published>2005-03-09T19:07:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T19:11:33.063+07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's So Raven (love this show..)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Tagline:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;She can see the future. But she can't quite see what's coming next.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;A teenager, Raven Baxter (Raven-Symone) is a girl who can see the future. She and her friends Eddie Thomas and Chelsea Daniels(Orlando Brown and Anneliese Van Der Pol) always have whacky mishaps trying to follow the visions. Her family life is also whacky with her parents Tonya and Victor (T'Keyah "Crystal" Keymah and Rondell Sheridan) and her younger brother (Kyle Orlando Massey) named Cory. Raven's got a lot on her hands!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111037029306168596?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111037029306168596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111037029306168596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111037029306168596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111037029306168596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/thats-so-raven-love-this-show.html' title='That&apos;s So Raven (love this show..)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111034880089019283</id><published>2005-03-09T13:05:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T19:05:45.683+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wish I Wasn't (Heather Headley)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I'm home alone again And you're out, hanging with your friends So you say, but I know it's not quite that way It's getting pretty late and you haven't checked on me all day When I called you didn't answer Now I'm feeling like you're ignoring me I wish that you were home Holding me,tight in your arms And I wish, I could go back To the day before we met and skip my regret..I wish I wasn't in love with you So you couldn't hurt me It just ain't fair the way you treat me No you don't deserve me Wasted my time thinking about you and you ain't never gone change I wish I wasn't in love with you So I wouldn't feel this way..When you touch me my heart melts And everything you did wrong I forget So you play me and take advantage Of the love that I feel for you Why you wanna hurt me so bad I believed in you thats why i"m so mad Now I'm drowning in disappointment, and it's hard for me to even look at you I wish that you were home Holding me tight in your arms ooh baby I wish I could go back To the day before we met and skip my regret..Said you care about me, but from what I see I ain't feeling that, so I disagree Gave you all my love and understanding and you treated me like your enemy So leave me alone, don't want nothing from you Just go back where you came from this house is no longer your home You can not never come no more..I hear you knocking at my door again I'm wondering should I let you in I open up the door and see the flowers for me so beautiful in your hands You start begging me to take you back,I've always been a sucker for romance And before you know it I can see, you're all over me Oh no here I go again I wish I wasn't in love with you so you couldn't hurt me..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111034880089019283?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111034880089019283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111034880089019283&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034880089019283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034880089019283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-wish-i-wasnt-heather-headley.html' title='I Wish I Wasn&apos;t (Heather Headley)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111034796690141379</id><published>2005-03-09T12:59:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T12:59:26.900+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me n my cuz..</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9656043741693l.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111034796690141379?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111034796690141379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111034796690141379&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034796690141379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034796690141379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/me-n-my-cuz.html' title='Me n my cuz..'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111034757935872975</id><published>2005-03-09T12:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T12:52:59.356+07:00</updated><title type='text'>More photos..(Maeyahn's b-day!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/pg34.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111034757935872975?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111034757935872975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111034757935872975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034757935872975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034757935872975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/more-photosmaeyahns-b-day.html' title='More photos..(Maeyahn&apos;s b-day!)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111034676827970742</id><published>2005-03-09T12:39:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T12:39:28.280+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last book I've read..</title><content type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;&lt;IMG alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/elevenminutes.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111034676827970742?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111034676827970742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111034676827970742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034676827970742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034676827970742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/last-book-ive-read_09.html' title='Last book I&apos;ve read..'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111034189179220906</id><published>2005-03-09T11:08:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T11:18:11.796+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scorpio - and proud of it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Dates:&lt;/span&gt; Oct.23 - Nov.21 &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Symbol:&lt;/span&gt; The Scorpion &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Element:&lt;/span&gt; Water &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Cross/Quality:&lt;/span&gt; Fixed &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Polarity:&lt;/span&gt; Negative &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Colors:&lt;/span&gt; Red &amp; Black&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Ruling Planet:&lt;/span&gt; Pluto/Mars &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Cross/Quality:&lt;/span&gt; Fixed &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;House Ruled:&lt;/span&gt; Eight Opposite &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Sign:&lt;/span&gt; Taurus &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Gem Stone:&lt;/span&gt; Opal &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Body Part:&lt;/span&gt; Reproductive Organs &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Scorpio is the eighth Sign of the Zodiac, and you shouldn't take that lightly. You shouldn't take Scorpios lightly, either. Those born under this Sign are dead serious in their mission to learn about others. There's no fluff or chatter for Scorpios, either: these folks will zero in on the essential questions, gleaning the secrets that lie within. Scorpios concern themselves with beginnings and endings, and are unafraid of either; they also travel in a world which is black and white and has little use for gray. The curiosity of Scorpios is immeasurable, which may be why they are such adept investigators. These folks love to probe and know how to get to the bottom of things. The fact that they have a keen sense of intuition certainly helps. It's the Scorpion which symbolizes Scorpios, and it's no accident. Much like the Scorpion would rather kill itself than be killed, those born under this Sign are the ones who are in ultimate control of their destiny. It is life on the Scorpion's terms, too, since these folks promote their agenda (they are quite the executives) and see to it that things go forward. Others may find this overbearing (it can be) and even self-destructive, but that's the beauty of the Scorpion: these folks have tremendous regenerative powers, much like the literal Scorpion can lose its tail and promptly grow a new one. Fearless Scorpions rarely lose, per se, they just keep on going, since they are stubborn and determined to succeed (this Scorpio trait is in keeping with the Fixed Quality assigned to this Sign). Scorpios work as hard as they do so they can someday sit back and feel satisfied with themselves. These folks are intense, passionate and filled with desire. They're also complex and secretive, so don't expect to get much out of them, lest they become suspicious and exit stage left. It's best not to bet against Scorpios, either, since these folks are surprisingly resourceful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Scorpio is a fixed sign, so your biggest problem is finding someone who, while strong enough to maintain the tempestuous lifestyle, is interesting enough to remain challengingly enigmatic. However, knowing your penchant for getting to the bottom of things, it won't take you all that long to sniff one out! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111034189179220906?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111034189179220906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111034189179220906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034189179220906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034189179220906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/scorpio-and-proud-of-it.html' title='Scorpio - and proud of it!'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111034059396136848</id><published>2005-03-09T10:56:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T12:15:23.173+07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Darlene's place..New Year's eve 2004</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/croppedtropa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111034059396136848?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111034059396136848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111034059396136848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034059396136848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034059396136848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/at-darlenes-placenew-years-eve-2004.html' title='At Darlene&apos;s place..New Year&apos;s eve 2004'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-111034031367206805</id><published>2005-03-09T10:51:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T10:53:37.520+07:00</updated><title type='text'>American Idol</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/moroulis.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"&gt;Constantine Maroulis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-- This guy's got personality and has an awesome voice..You rock!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-111034031367206805?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/111034031367206805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=111034031367206805&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034031367206805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/111034031367206805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/american-idol.html' title='American Idol'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110982375791271654</id><published>2005-03-03T11:19:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T10:58:33.883+07:00</updated><title type='text'>White Houses (Vanessa Carlton)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Crashed on the floor when I moved in This little bungalow with some strange new friends.Stay up too late, and I'm too thin.We promise each other it's til the end.Now we're spinning empty bottles It's the five of us.With pretty eyed boys girls die to trust..I can't resist the day.No, I can't resist the day.. Jenny screams out and it's no pose'.Cause when she dances she goes and goes..Beer through the nose on an inside joke. I'm so excited, I haven't spoken. And she's so pretty, and she's so sure.Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her.The summer's all in bloom The summer is ending soon.. It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone.But I hold on to your secrets in white houses.. Maybe I'm a little bit over my head.I come undone at the things he said And he's so funny in his bright red shirt.We were all in love and we all got hurt.. I sneak into his car's cracked leather seat.. The smell of gasoline in the summer heat Boy, we're going way too fast. It's all too sweet to last ..It's alright And I put myself in his hands But I hold on to your secrets in white houses..Love, or something ignites in my veins .And I pray it never fades in white houses.. My first time, hard to explainRush of blood, oh, and a little bit of pain..On a cloudy day, it's more common than you think.He's my first mistake ..Maybe you were all faster than me.We gave each other up so easily ..These silly little wounds will never mend..I feel so far from where I've been.. So I go, and I will not be back here again..I'm gone as the day is fading on white houses.. I lie, put my injuries all in the dust ..In my heart is the five of us ..In white houses And you, maybe you'll remember me..What I gave is yours to keep.. In white houses .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110982375791271654?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110982375791271654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110982375791271654&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110982375791271654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110982375791271654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/white-houses-vanessa-carlton.html' title='White Houses (Vanessa Carlton)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110981968619552730</id><published>2005-03-03T10:08:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T11:00:56.976+07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;10 Things I Hate About You&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate the way you talk to me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;and the way you cut your hair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate the way you drive my car, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate it when you stare. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate your big dumb combat boots &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;and the way you read my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate you so much it makes me sick,&lt;br /&gt;it even makes me rhyme. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate the way you’re always right, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate it when you lie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate it when you make me laugh, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;even worse when you make me cry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I hate it when you’re not around, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;and the fact that you didn’t call.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;not even close… not even a little bit… not even at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;--- Kat Stratford (10 Things I hate About You)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110981968619552730?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110981968619552730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110981968619552730&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110981968619552730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110981968619552730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/10-things-i-hate-about-you-i-hate-way.html' title=''/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110977349924599057</id><published>2005-03-02T21:24:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T10:27:14.406+07:00</updated><title type='text'>New balls please..Tennis,anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Rafael Nadal and Guillermo Coria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110977349924599057?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110977349924599057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110977349924599057&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977349924599057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977349924599057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/new-balls-pleasetennisanyone_02.html' title='New balls please..Tennis,anyone?'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110977339792552146</id><published>2005-03-02T21:23:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T10:26:25.733+07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="Hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/raf.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110977339792552146?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110977339792552146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110977339792552146&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977339792552146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977339792552146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/hosted-by-photobucketcom.html' title=''/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110977316760943180</id><published>2005-03-02T21:19:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T10:26:38.750+07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="Hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/coria_head.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110977316760943180?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110977316760943180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110977316760943180&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977316760943180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977316760943180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/hosted-by-photobucketcom_02.html' title=''/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110977078893016358</id><published>2005-03-02T20:38:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T09:54:38.906+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It's best to live as if today were the first (or last) day of your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;--- Maria (Eleven Minutes)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110977078893016358?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110977078893016358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110977078893016358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977078893016358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110977078893016358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/thoughts_02.html' title='Thoughts..'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110976961807284603</id><published>2005-03-02T20:14:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T20:22:30.290+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me Love You (Mario)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Baby I just don’t get it Do you enjoy being hurt? I know you smelled the perfume The makeup on his shirt You don’t believe his stories You know that they're all lies Bad as you are, You stick around And I just don’t know why (If I was your man) Baby you’d (Never worry bout) What I do(I’d be coming home) Back to you, everynight, doing you right(You’re the type of woman) Deserves good things (Fist full of diamonds) Hand full of rings (Baby you’re a star) I just wanna show you, you are..You should let me love you Let me be the one to Give you everything you want and need Baby good love and protection Make me your selection Show you the way loves supposed to be Baby you should let me Love you Love you Love you Loooove you Yea-eah Listen Your true beauty's description, looks so good that it hurts.You’re a dime plus 99. And its a shame, don’t even know what your worth.Everywhere you go; They stop and stare, Cause you're bad and it shows, From your head to your toes. Out of control. Baby you know(You deserve better)You know you deserve better(We should be together girl) Baby With me and you it’s whatever girl Hey so can we make this thing ours..You should let me love you Let me be the one to give Whoa Everything you need yeah I said everything Will you take me baby?OhhhBaby you should let me love you Love you everything That good love and protection Looove you The one too everything you need oh baby Protection Selection Baby oooh yeah Let me love you That’s all you need baby..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110976961807284603?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110976961807284603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110976961807284603&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110976961807284603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110976961807284603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/let-me-love-you-mario.html' title='Let Me Love You (Mario)'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110976910091939230</id><published>2005-03-02T20:11:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T12:19:04.790+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fab Four</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="Hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/p_key.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110976910091939230?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110976910091939230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110976910091939230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110976910091939230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110976910091939230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/fab-four.html' title='Fab Four'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11182196.post-110976914432876493</id><published>2005-03-02T19:44:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T09:52:42.346+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My top 6 Sex and the City episodes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Season 1 Ep.10 "Baby Shower"&lt;/span&gt; --- A baby shower for Laney, a wild child turned soccer mom, gets the girls thinking about their futures. Carrie is late for her period, but unsure whether she wants her pregnancy test to be positive or negative. Charlotte is fearful she may never have the daughter for which she has been preparing her whole life, while Laney yearns for the freedom she sacrificed for her family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Season 2 Ep.15 "The Man,the Myth,the Viagra"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; --- Do modern-day singles need modern-day myths just to date? While Carrie and Mr. Big continue their now-it's-different relationship, Samantha starts hanging out with a 72-year-old millionaire, and Miranda hooks up with a bartender who's actually a nice guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Season 3 Ep.37 "Drama Queens"&lt;/span&gt; --- Three weeks into her relationship with Aidan, Carrie begins to freak because everything seems so perfect. When Aidan asks Carrie to meet his parents, she can't deal and finds herself saying no. Meanwhile, Charlotte presses on in her mission to be married by year's end. Her latest tactic involves forcing her married friends to hook her up with single men they know. Charlotte's first date using the new strategy ends up being a married friend who professes his love for her. But after storming out of that date, Charlotte falls down on the street and meets Trey - the chemistry is instantaneous. Miranda continues to settle into her secure life with Steve, pretty much without incident (except for the "skid marks" in his underwear). Samantha sleeps with a doctor named Mark, who doesn't "need" Viagra, but takes it to spice things up in bed. Intoxicated by the idea of an even more thrilling sexual experience, Samantha pops a pill or two. After a few trysts, Mark suggests they try it without the aid of medical enhancers, but Samantha refuses. Nervous she may get cut off, Samantha asks Mark to write her a prescription for her own supply. While at the opera with Charlotte, Carrie spots Big and Natasha in the balcony and leaves. Big sees her and tries to catch her, but Carrie's long gone. Carrie realizes that in her relationship with Aidan, she's been behaving like Big, and he's been acting like the sensitive and available guy she always wanted Big to be. In a rush to try and undue any damage done, Carrie shows up at breakfast with Aidan and the family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Season 4 Ep.66 "I Heart NY"&lt;/span&gt; --- It's autumn in New York and Carrie's yearning for some company. She invites herself over to Big's apartment, finding it filled with shipping boxes. Big tells her that he's moving to Napa, California where he bought a vineyard. Dazed and confused, Carrie joins him in a glass of wine and a slow dance to Big's parents' favorite song, "Moon River." Samantha is also feeling abandoned as Richard is late for their rendezvous. Although she's suspicious of his excuses, she gives him a token of love: a framed picture of hearts. At the girls' next get-together, Carrie breaks the news about Big's impending departure and wonders if she should sleep with him one last time. Samantha tells the girls that she's a 'love-a-holic' and is worried as she's sure relationships never work. Carrie starts thinking about fate and wonders: Can you make a mistake and miss your fate?Meanwhile, while leading a tour at the Museum of Modern Art, Charlotte is asked out by one of the visitors. At first she's resistant but when she spots Trey and Bunny wandering through the museum, she says yes to the potential date, Eric.Samantha is increasingly concerned about her 'relationship' as Richard isn't reacting to her sexual advances. She asks him if he's sleeping with another woman and he denies it. She decides to spy on him.Charlotte's date with Eric is going well. Both recent divorcees, they seem to have a lot in common. However, when he sees her luxurious Park Avenue abode, he goes on a rampage about her being a 'rich girl.' She shows him the door and gets rid of him quick.Carrie gets all glammed up for her last night with Big. In a carriage ride through Central Park, Big tells her he'll miss her very much. They start to kiss but are interrupted by a call from Miranda who's in labor. The horses pick up their gait and Carrie dismounts at the hospital. Big gives her his classic wink goodbye.Carrie keeps Miranda sane as she gives birth to a healthy baby boy. Miranda tells an exuberant Steve that she wants to name their child, Brady, Brady Hobbes. Samantha's in a different kind of labor of love as she follows Richard incognito in a wig and dark glasses. She catches him in bed with another woman and proceeds to smash the heart painting she had given him.Carrie rushes off to try to catch Big before his plane takes off, but it's too late. In the apartment she finds the 'Moon River' record with a note reading "If you ever feel lonely" and a plane ticket to Napa with a note reading, "If I ever feel lonely."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Season 5 Ep.71 "Plus One is the Loneliest Number"&lt;/span&gt; --- Carrie is gearing up for the biggest night of her life - her book-launch party. Naturally, Samantha serves as Carrie's publicist and party-planner. Miranda, who's back in the office and loving it, gets a timely call from her pre-baby ex-lover, Walker Lewis. Excited by the prospect of a replay of their one-night stand, she invites him to be her 'plus one' for the party. While discussing the party particulars with her punchy publisher, Carrie meets the charismatic (and cute) writer, Jack Berger. After a flirtatious fast-food meal on a park bench, Carrie dares to invite Berger to be her 'plus one' for her party, but her hopes are shattered when Berger casually mentions he has a girlfriend. Carrie tells the girls that she 'sparked' with Berger and laments the fact that he's unavailable. Miranda admits that she purposely neglected to tell Walker she has a baby. After discussing the whole 'plus one' problem, Carrie starts thinking about what she has (a job and an apartment) and what she doesn't have (a boyfriend). She wonders why we let the one thing we don't have effect how we feel about everything. She asks: Why does one minus a 'plus one' feel like it adds up to zero? Samantha decides to splurge on a chemical peel to prep for the book party and emerges looking like an overripe tomato. Charlotte prepares for the party by bedding country club-ready Justin Anderson the third, her 'perfect plus one.' The scene is perfect until Bunny barges in spewing accusations and Charlotte is left minus one. Carrie soaks in the glamorous party in her honor and thinks 'Who needs a date? - until she spots Berger sans girlfriend in the crowd. It dawns on her that she's lonely. Miranda, on the other hand, has lured Walker back to her home. However, when Brady's cries interrupt them mid-climax, Walker walks out. Miranda takes Brady in her arms and realizes that she's not the same person - she's plus one. On the way home, Carrie's driver reminds her she's got something to celebrate. Spirits lifted, Carrie realizes she likes knowing that there are men out there who can still give her that 'spark.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Season 6 Ep.81 "The Post-it Always Sticks Twice"&lt;/span&gt; --- Carrie and the girls are meeting for their usual breakfast when two bombshells are dropped. The good news is that Charlotte and Harry are engaged... but the bad news is that Berger dumped Carrie via a Post-it note earlier that morning. Carrie swears that she will refrain from giving Berger the satisfaction of an angry message, but winds up inadvertantly leaving one after badmouthing him to some of his friends at an exclusive club. Charlotte absolutely basks in the glow of her engagement to Harry. Her ring is enormous (and patterned after the one given by Richard Burton to Elizabeth Taylor), and all seems well. All, that is, except for the nagging feeling that somehow this second marriage will be somewhat less special than her first. She tells the girls that this wedding will be far less elaborate than the last, releasing them from bridesmaid duties. Charlotte's attitude changes after running into a enthusiastic barhopping bridal party, rejuvenating her spirits and causing her to re-enlist her friends as bridesmaids. Miranda is also in a funk until discovering that after many months of juggling motherhood and a career she is now able to fit into her "skinny jeans" for the first time since 1985. Her confidence soars, and she finds herself able to easily speak with the type of men that had been intimidating her. The jeans eventually split, but Miranda's positive new outlook remains. Smith's career is rapidly heating up, but Samantha fears that he's moving too quickly by referring to her as his girlfriend during a private moment. She gives him a fabulous pair of Robert Marc sunglasses and coaches him to say that he's single when he makes an appearance on TRL, maximizing his teenage scream potential and keeping a comfortable distance between the pair. The plan backfires on Sam when she sees the broadcast and finds that she doesn't like hearing Smith declare his availability on national television. Licking their wounds, the girls wind up in a dive bar. Samantha manages to score a joint in the bar, along with a man to potentially keep her mind off of Smith. Unfortunately, the man's girlfriend takes exception to this, chasing Carrie and Samantha out of the bar. The pair light the joint to take the edge off of their problems, but it just gets worse when Carrie gets busted for posession. Miranda, ever the lawyer, manages to talk the charge down to "smoking in a bar," leaving Carrie with just a small fine to pay. The girls then convene over shared banana splits, laughing as a very long day comes to an end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11182196-110976914432876493?l=marooray.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/feeds/110976914432876493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11182196&amp;postID=110976914432876493&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110976914432876493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11182196/posts/default/110976914432876493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marooray.blogspot.com/2005/03/my-top-6-sex-and-city-episodes.html' title='My top 6 Sex and the City episodes'/><author><name>Maru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05993338349267768585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y28/marooray/9068912911493l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
