<?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-15389926</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:56:10.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sound_of_color</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksheep.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15389926/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksheep.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15851957400047966643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15389926.post-112394203844289072</id><published>2005-08-13T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-13T07:24:59.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Love and Marriage &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Last month, on the way to work, I bumped to a former teacher from my old high school. We talked about the usual shit: what my job is, how long I've been working there, etc. The boring conversation soon moved to dangerous territory when she suddenly asked me the question I love to hate, &lt;em&gt;"O, may&lt;/em&gt; boyfriend &lt;em&gt;ka na ba?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;In college, I used to think that this question was funny. Heck, for some reason I actually thought that it was cute. But at my age of 24, it has become irritating. Not because the answer has remained the same ("&lt;em&gt;Wala e"&lt;/em&gt;), but because other people's reaction has grown increasingly absurd. &lt;em&gt;"Wala e,"&lt;/em&gt; used to elicit replies like "Okay &lt;em&gt;lang 'yan."&lt;/em&gt; But now, everybody's reaction is similar to what my former teacher told me that day: &lt;em&gt;"Ano ba naman 'yan!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Can anybody out there tell me why there is a feeling of exasperation at this answer? Am I a full pledged loser just because I never had a boyfriend? I mean, puhleez. I actually have a friend who keeps on badgering me about marriage, telling me that if I decide to go to law school (more on that topic later) I may become a spinster for life. Forget about the quest for higher education, forget about improving my standing in society, forget about the money. Her message was this: forget about everything, but don't forget about marriage. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not jaded. My parents have been happily married for 25 years, which is a miracle in today's society. I would love to get married. But I don't go around worrying whether I'm gonna get married or not. Because honey, I'm just too busy to do that. And like what my thesis partner's mom once saids, getting married is one of the easiest things to do. Post an ad in a mail order bride website, and you'll have marriage proposals in no time.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;To wrap up this tale of angst, let me tell you what I told my former teacher that that day. Because I was way a bigger bitch than she is, I shot back, with all the venom I can muster, &lt;em&gt;"E ikaw meron na?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She didn't say anything. The answer was obvious.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15389926-112394203844289072?l=pinksheep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksheep.blogspot.com/feeds/112394203844289072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15389926&amp;postID=112394203844289072' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15389926/posts/default/112394203844289072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15389926/posts/default/112394203844289072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksheep.blogspot.com/2005/08/love-and-marriage-last-month-on-way-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15851957400047966643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
