<?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-1608968393168262344</id><updated>2011-12-03T14:47:54.783+01:00</updated><category term='Quotes'/><category term='Sayings'/><category term='New Moon'/><category term='Eclipse'/><category term='Birthdays'/><category term='Hunks'/><category term='Grey&apos;s Anatomy'/><category term='My everyday'/><category term='Twilight'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='My thoughts'/><category term='Books'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>Our time is running out</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-1199800698207970251</id><published>2011-11-14T15:32:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T16:03:30.048+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Faen, Glenn...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDR82iU79vA/TsErhsIN-YI/AAAAAAAAAGU/QJHmSMmeZ70/s1600/hjelp__vi_er_i_filmbransjen.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDR82iU79vA/TsErhsIN-YI/AAAAAAAAAGU/QJHmSMmeZ70/s400/hjelp__vi_er_i_filmbransjen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674864863244843394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Ok, vet du hva? Akkurat nå, så må du gå, snu deg rundt 180 grader og gå tilbake, og ta deg en bolle, for nå kommer jeg til å brekke trynet ditt snart."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Source: "Hjelp vi er i filmbransjen"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-1199800698207970251?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/1199800698207970251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=1199800698207970251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/1199800698207970251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/1199800698207970251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2011/11/faen-glenn.html' title='Faen, Glenn...'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDR82iU79vA/TsErhsIN-YI/AAAAAAAAAGU/QJHmSMmeZ70/s72-c/hjelp__vi_er_i_filmbransjen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-6411209929764304930</id><published>2011-11-07T16:25:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T17:05:05.228+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grey&apos;s Anatomy'/><title type='text'>I can't remember the last time we kissed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g14_bf4Vlp0/TrgBTXT3pmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/f71D1pMRqtY/s400/tumblr_lgcu00pkum1qbw5zeo1_500_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672285162859636322" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;"It was a Thursday morning, you were wearing that ratty little "Dartmouth" T-shirt you look so good in, the one with the hole in the back of the neck. You'd just washed your hair and you smelled like some kind of... flower. I was running late for surgery. You said you were going to see me later, and you leaned to me, you put your hand on my chest and you kissed me. Soft. It was quick. Kind of like a habit. You know, like we'd do it everyday for the rest of our lives. And you went back to reading the newspaper and I went to work. That was the last time we kissed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/1608968393168262344-6411209929764304930?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/6411209929764304930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=6411209929764304930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6411209929764304930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6411209929764304930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-cant-remember-last-time-we-kissed.html' title='I can&apos;t remember the last time we kissed.'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g14_bf4Vlp0/TrgBTXT3pmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/f71D1pMRqtY/s72-c/tumblr_lgcu00pkum1qbw5zeo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-4655100779702209928</id><published>2011-11-04T01:11:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T01:19:38.956+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold my hand</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3RLZcEamxrU/TrMuor274-I/AAAAAAAAAFw/aII7vLJMX7Q/s1600/couple%252Ckiss%252Ccute%252Cfield%252Clove%252Cma-f919b89a12cdf58922ff0cb0c7553f8b_h_large.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3RLZcEamxrU/TrMuor274-I/AAAAAAAAAFw/aII7vLJMX7Q/s400/couple%252Ckiss%252Ccute%252Cfield%252Clove%252Cma-f919b89a12cdf58922ff0cb0c7553f8b_h_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670927632292373474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FlQNxOL9k1g/TrMuTLmAbuI/AAAAAAAAAFk/2AZU1o2SWFc/s1600/tumblr_lajo1d1q2P1qd9wcto1_500_large.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FlQNxOL9k1g/TrMuTLmAbuI/AAAAAAAAAFk/2AZU1o2SWFc/s400/tumblr_lajo1d1q2P1qd9wcto1_500_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670927262854180578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C1Bun3mcIzc/TrMuF3RDfMI/AAAAAAAAAFY/a41p3rvTpn4/s1600/ears.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C1Bun3mcIzc/TrMuF3RDfMI/AAAAAAAAAFY/a41p3rvTpn4/s400/ears.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670927034059291842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Source: weheartit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-4655100779702209928?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/4655100779702209928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=4655100779702209928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/4655100779702209928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/4655100779702209928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2011/11/hold-my-hand.html' title='Hold my hand'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3RLZcEamxrU/TrMuor274-I/AAAAAAAAAFw/aII7vLJMX7Q/s72-c/couple%252Ckiss%252Ccute%252Cfield%252Clove%252Cma-f919b89a12cdf58922ff0cb0c7553f8b_h_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-6581286623312334180</id><published>2011-11-04T00:03:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T00:22:52.320+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Make it all go away</title><content type='html'>You know when you have those days? Those days that are so sucky you just want to to forget about everything and disappear . Days when you dont' want to talk to any one, just be left alone. Days when you just want someone there to stroke your back, and play with your hair. When you only want to listen to Adele and Bon Iver. Days when you want that special someone right by your side. Those days suck. I've had a couple of those days lately. I honestly think I am a little depressed. Not the kind where I want to cut my wrists and bleed to death. But the kind where I can sit in my bed all day with sweat pants on, watching Vampire Diaries, and crying my eyes out when some fictional character dies. I hope I feel better tomorrow xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-6581286623312334180?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/6581286623312334180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=6581286623312334180&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6581286623312334180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6581286623312334180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2011/11/make-it-all-go-away.html' title='Make it all go away'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-8923420232071469979</id><published>2011-06-24T00:26:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T00:57:51.657+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My thoughts'/><title type='text'>24.06.2011</title><content type='html'>I wanna be a good writer, I really do. I've always been into writing, but mostly reading. That's what inspires me the most in my everyday life. I've acctually not read that many books. I'm the kind of person who reads a book 13 times, and watches the same movie so many times that I know it by heart. Don't know why I do that. Why not explore and try something new, right? Yeah.. It's really nothing more than being afraid of new things - in this case, small things... &lt;b&gt;very&lt;/b&gt; small things. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My book shelf is filled with books I haven't read yet - everything from books about vampires to the biographies  of Lauren Conrad and Whitney Port. So this summer I'm gonna read new books, the more the merrier as they say. And then maybe I'll find my inspiration to write something of my own. Maybe one day you'll pick up a book in a book store, and you'll think to yourself:"That name sounds familiar..." Yes it will sound familiar. It will be my name on the front cover of that book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanna write a book that gives you something. Laughter, tears, compassion, heartaches, goose bumps, curiosity and last but not least, a book that will make you want to read more. An inspiration and maybe even someone to look up to. That's what I wanna accomplish in life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y6MV-GlIuVU/TgPCJdjG0hI/AAAAAAAAAFE/PrD8FptIiKU/s400/tumblr_l6gbfuBm2l1qaumh0o1_500_large.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621550227694998034" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-8923420232071469979?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/8923420232071469979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=8923420232071469979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/8923420232071469979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/8923420232071469979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2011/06/24062011.html' title='24.06.2011'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y6MV-GlIuVU/TgPCJdjG0hI/AAAAAAAAAFE/PrD8FptIiKU/s72-c/tumblr_l6gbfuBm2l1qaumh0o1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-5459409675062395967</id><published>2011-02-28T02:33:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T02:39:35.196+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lights</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w6ZmyC08gE4/TWr7nJcHw0I/AAAAAAAAAE4/XBuHAtpqsuk/s1600/lysekrone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w6ZmyC08gE4/TWr7nJcHw0I/AAAAAAAAAE4/XBuHAtpqsuk/s400/lysekrone.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578547738419118914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;"You have your way. I have mine. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist."&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&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/1608968393168262344-5459409675062395967?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/5459409675062395967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=5459409675062395967&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5459409675062395967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5459409675062395967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2011/02/lights.html' title='Lights'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w6ZmyC08gE4/TWr7nJcHw0I/AAAAAAAAAE4/XBuHAtpqsuk/s72-c/lysekrone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-6163862779750891375</id><published>2011-02-28T02:10:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T02:32:04.873+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nå som det er vinterferie har jeg endelig tid til å lese bøker igjen, noe som gleder meg stort, fordi jeg liker å lese bøker. Så når jeg ikke sover eller jobber, balanserer jeg 3 bøker og prøver å holde styr på forskjellige karakterer og handlinger. Men jeg må fokusere ekstra på en spesiell bok, for det er skoleoppgave å lese den.. iløpet av ferien. Lucky me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;Den heter &lt;i&gt;Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close &lt;/i&gt;og er skrevet av Jonathan Safran-Foer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;Boka er ganske syk, men også veldig fin og rørende. Jeg tenkte jeg skulle anbefale den til dere//deg, fordi den er bra. Virkelig bra. Det er den eneste boka jeg har måtte lest på skolen som jeg faktisk liker. Kanskje fordi jeg fikk velge selv, men altså. Jeg spurte læreren om jeg kunne lese Harry Potter, men det var tydeligvis ikke litterært nok. Ringenes Herre derimot var mer enn nok litterært. Dagens lærere..&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/1608968393168262344-6163862779750891375?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/6163862779750891375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=6163862779750891375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6163862779750891375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6163862779750891375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2011/02/extremely-loud-and-incredibly-close.html' title='Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-1648576259268737003</id><published>2010-05-01T16:40:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T17:06:50.610+02:00</updated><title type='text'>05.05.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Jeg tror det er på tide å skrive litt på mitt eget språk. Vårt språk. Jeg er inne i en veldig interresant(rar?) fase av livet mitt. Litt sånn at jeg føler at mye faller fra hverandre. Jeg føler meg psykisk utslitt, og hodet mitt føles ut som en sprengt vannmelon. Det føles ut som om at jeg har lagret for mye der inne i for lang tid. (Jeg vet forresten ikke om det heter psykisk, men jeg snakker om at jeg er sliten på innsiden). Så... ja. Jeg trenger å slappe av, men jeg vet ikke hvordan jeg skal få hodet mitt til å slappe av. God musikk sier du? Venner? Bøker? Sove? Nei, ingen av disse faktorene har den rette virkningen på hodet mitt. Jeg tror egentlig jeg trenger å komme meg vekk. Men jeg har ikke penger nok til å rømme.... Så jeg må være her og gjøre... ingenting. Jeg tror jeg skal gå meg en tur. Og høre på Radioresepsjonen. Det får meg alltid i godt humør. Og Mari. Og Cougar Town. Men jeg har sett de alle så alt for mange ganger.&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/1608968393168262344-1648576259268737003?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/1648576259268737003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=1648576259268737003&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/1648576259268737003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/1648576259268737003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-love-you-too-momma-well-always-be.html' title='05.05.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-3923218454433683846</id><published>2010-04-19T18:16:00.009+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T17:07:11.361+02:00</updated><title type='text'>19.04.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to see Remember Me. STARRING my favorite actor. Hehehe, yeah. I reall can't wait! I've seen the trailer like ten times today on MTV, and I get butterflies in my stomach - because I can't wait to see him in another role than Edward. But God, how I look forward to Eclipse. Remember Me is gonna be a... reminder of how much I love seeing his gorgeous face on screen:))))))))))))))))))))))))&lt;/div&gt;&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/1608968393168262344-3923218454433683846?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/3923218454433683846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=3923218454433683846&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/3923218454433683846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/3923218454433683846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-was-with-edward-in-my-happy-place.html' title='19.04.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-5587476442862091595</id><published>2010-04-06T20:50:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T17:09:17.409+02:00</updated><title type='text'>06.04.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I think I'm about to write a book. Well, more than thinking - I have started, but I don't know if it's gonna turn out to be a book. I'm just writing about life, I guess. A bigger, and longer version of this - just more personal. I get inspired by life, so it's not really difficult to write anything. The only thing is that my life isn't very.. exciting, so it won't be a heart breaking novel, it will be the truth. And I know I'm not gonna be the next Stephenie Meyer or anything, but I'm exploring right now, and I need inspiration. I'll continue to write, and we'll see where this is taking me. Here's to something new - something I've never done before - a part the new me. And this is start.&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/1608968393168262344-5587476442862091595?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/5587476442862091595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=5587476442862091595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5587476442862091595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5587476442862091595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/04/he-loved-me.html' title='06.04.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-5022826716758643622</id><published>2010-03-02T22:20:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T17:10:41.797+02:00</updated><title type='text'>02.03.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Okay, so I'm gonna tell you some things about myself that I never really talk about, or things about, myself. If you know this you're telepathic, because there's a lot of this I have never shared before. I'm only doing this, because often I have problems with sharing certain things and emotions. Like, even with my best friends. I don't know why, it just is &lt;:)) + that there's like two persons who read this diary. My diary. Okay, here I go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I have never, before Sunday, really known what I wanted to do with my life. But now I know, for now. I still don't have my whole life planned and ready to surf through. I'll take one step at a time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I regret I didn't spend more time with my grandfather. I mean I saw him, and we were very close. He was like a second father to me. But .. before he had the heart attack, I hadn't seen him for maybe.. a month. And then he was in the hospital for three weeks, he never woke up. I could talk to him, but I wouldn't get a response. And then he died. I think about that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; day. That I didn't get to say good bye, that I don't remember the last word we spoke. I'm always afraid someone's gonna die, and that I won'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;t get the chance to say good bye. It really is a horrible feeling. But there's nothing I can do about it now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;. I LOVE the moon and the stars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;They bright up a black night like that. Even if it's just a couple of stars in sight, it just seems so much lighter. It's not so much that I'm afraid of the dark, but having or seeing some light is always positive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; I want to write a book. Not like make-believe, but something similar to this diary. I really like writing, but only in English, I don't like it so much in Norwegian. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;. Another thing, is that talking and writing English is like second nature to me. I don't know why I like it, but it's just so easy for me. I could easily replace my Norwegian language with English. That's probably one of the reasons I like travelling. I love speaking English. I mean.. I have friends who don't like English, and I'm like.. What's there not to like? But no ones the same, right? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;. I wish I lived in another country. I mean, Norway is a great country, you know.. free school, free medical care, we earn a lot of money if you have a job - even teenagers. But it's just that, it's to boring.. I guess.. I want something more than this. &lt;/span&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/1608968393168262344-5022826716758643622?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/5022826716758643622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=5022826716758643622&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5022826716758643622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5022826716758643622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/03/truce-over.html' title='02.03.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-6625879696131059908</id><published>2010-03-02T21:09:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T17:11:53.406+02:00</updated><title type='text'>01.03.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I read everywhere, and hear that we're all supposed to forget about the past. Live in the moment, look forward. But that is just.. so wrong, you know. We're not supposed to forget. Yes, there may have been bad times, and moments you're not so proud of. But forget? No, not everything. I say, forget the past, but remember what it taught you. Even if it's not worth remembering, there just comes a moment in your life when you realise it doesn't matter any more. And then you move on.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Personally, I don't want to forget the past. It has taught me so much! I wouldn't give it up for the world. Because if I did, I wouldn't have the bound I have today with my family and friends - which is worth everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Before, I kind of lived in the past, and I didn't look forward. I kept thinking what if and thinking back on all the fun things we did, to kind of capture the moment. For ever. But one day I realised that I have an entire life of doing things and living my life the way I want. That wasn't something that happened over night, it just happened. And also, I have stopped planning things, because it ruins ones expectations, and the things you planned doesn't turn out the way you wanted them to. So stop planning everything. Live your life, do the things that make you happy. Because those are things that make life worth living. The happy things, the happy people. Don't surround yourself with negativity, it will only effect you in the long run. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I didn't know myself very well before. I didn't know who I wanted to be, and I think everybody goes through that phase in your life, where you're kind of uncertain about a lot of things. But then, most of the time, you find yourself again, and become the person you want to be. I don't think I ever tried to be perfect, but something like that. I know now, that no one is perfect. And perfection really is a flaw. It's not even a luxury.. I mean, I could write a list over things I don't like about myself, or things I would change. But why would I do that? That doesn't change anything. So.. I roll with it, life I mean. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Be yourself, it's all that you can do. And besides, everyone else is taken. I'm no Buddhist, but if it's something believe in, it's karma. You get what you deserve. You can't go through life being an ass hole, and get away with it. It's not possible. It's not supposed to be possible. So treat the ones you love with respect, it's gonna do you  good later on. And even when you feel like the world has turned against you and doesn't make sense any more; just hang in there. Don't give up on life. Believe in magic, it's out there. You just gotta believe in it. Dream big. Without dreams and hope, you have nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I would like to say that I do all those things. I dream and I achieve. I know what I want with my life. What I would like to do. World peace. No. Of course not. I don't have or know any of this. But I have hope, that one day I will know. Maybe not the world peace thing, but..  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-6625879696131059908?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/6625879696131059908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=6625879696131059908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6625879696131059908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6625879696131059908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/03/dont-tempt-me-too-far-wolf-my-patience.html' title='01.03.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-146876960043477426</id><published>2010-02-17T21:47:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T17:12:15.001+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My thoughts'/><title type='text'>17.02.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Only when we are no longer afraid, do we begin to live. I guess that's true, I know that I sure as hell don't live my life to the fullest. And yeah, I am afraid of what life will serve us. But us going around worrying about that, won't help. So I'm gonna be a hypocrite here, and say; live your life to the fullest. You never know when it's taken away from you. The reason I say I'm a hypocrite, is that I say something - but I don't do it. Not lying or anything. But like... saying that I wanna do different things - like I have this list - but I never do them. Like some of the things on my list is that I want to travel to the 5 continents of the world; Asia, Africa, America, Europe and Australia. So far.. two out of the five. Which is not impressing, but I keep on saying to myself that I recently turned 18, and that I have my whole life in front of me. But do I? Really, I keep thinking to myself that... I am gonna grow old, but you never know. I could die tomorrow, hell I could die in a couple of minutes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Going from emo to.... not so emo, talking about death yet again(!).. One other thing on my list(I don't really have a list.. it's more.. a list in my head. So it's a list) Whatever, Skydiving! I am so gonna try that! I wanna feel that rush, you know? And... as I said, hopefully, I have all my life in front of me to do these kinds of things. Traveling, adrenaline rushes, trying new things, meeting new people. I don't wanna die without having lived a little. And also, living doesn't mean do bad or criminal things, just.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Life's not about posting the most tweets or showing the 500 friends on your facebook or myspace page what you are doing. But we still do it.. Sometimes I think that the people with the least stuff on their facebook page, are the ones who live life.(With a few exceptions) Because life is all about doing. Doing something, someone, anything.. You never know what the future will bring. So live in moment. Not all the time. Balance it out, and do the best of what you've got. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-146876960043477426?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/146876960043477426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=146876960043477426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/146876960043477426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/146876960043477426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/02/edward-i-know-who-i-cant-live-without-i.html' title='17.02.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-5953744466885825728</id><published>2010-02-16T22:41:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T17:42:07.993+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My thoughts'/><title type='text'>16.02.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;So this was what it felt like to cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;What will make you cry one day, won't necessarily make you wanna cry the other day. I know what me moody, I guess one could call it. I know what makes me cry, what makes me angry and what makes me wanna laugh. If I'm having an off day, and feel like I need to cry but I can't, I read this book called&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; Idas dans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. It's amazing, UNBELIEVABLE, really. Every time I read that book the water fall is on. I'm not kidding,  it's like someone pressed a button inside me, and everything I have of emotions inside comes out. I actually read this book on Sunday, and I cried for an hour - non stop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;One other thing that makes me cry, is seeing my friends cry. Like, well actually I don't cry in public very often. Actually, not many of my friends, not even my closest, have seen my cry. I don't know why, I just don't like crying in front of others, because I know what it feels like when my friends are sad. (Oh, yeah, and one other thing. This may sound crazy, but this is almost the same thing.) The reason I don't want to die, is not because I'm afraid, it's because I don't want my friends and family to feel sad, to feel that loss. And I know that this sounds crazy from the outside, but that's the truth. Anyway, I'm way off track here. What I was going to say, is that even in funerals, I don't cry before I see my friends or family cry. And that's a trigger right there. I remember in the very first funeral I was in, I didn't cry until I saw my best friend and her mother cry, that's when the tears started dropping. But, how weird is that? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;And the happiness thing. Just seeing my friends makes me smile. Yet alone being with them, it's amazing how much I love my friends. It's so weird not seeing my closest friends on a daily basis. I see some of my friends everyday because we go to the same school, but there is some that I see once a week, maybe more. I can't be in a grouchy mood when I'm with them. It's not possible. AT ALL. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Also when I accomplish something, I get so proud of myself that it makes me happy. So I go around with a big smirch on my face. Looking like a goof ball, but hey, as long as I'm happy, right? And when I'm happy I listen to music. Well I ALWAYS listen to music! And yeah, that's one thing that makes me mad, is when I don't have music available. It really pisses me off, because I could not have survived without music - promise! That and... also when people comment everything - with a few exceptions. Just because they can't handle the silence. What they would call awkward silence. But it's not though. When you're friends with someone, and you can't enjoy each others silence.. Not good my friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-5953744466885825728?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/5953744466885825728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=5953744466885825728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5953744466885825728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5953744466885825728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-this-was-what-it-felt-like-to-cry.html' title='16.02.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-2484048914550983365</id><published>2010-01-18T23:25:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T18:47:12.725+02:00</updated><title type='text'>18.02.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;You could be happy if you let go. You could be happy with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Happiness. Taste that word. Are you happy? Before you answer, remember that being happy is so much more than going through life smiling. Happiness is that insane feeling you get from something you like.... something or someone you're proud of, something you've achieved, someone you've met - who you don't wanna live without. And even if you don't have everything, that might make you more happy - to know that there's more to achieve in the world. In your life. For some, that's reality. That's a struggle - finding happiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I would truly say that I am happy. Not because I have all the things I want, nor have I traveled all over the world, but because I live and love my life. I have learned that what goes around comes around, and that karma will bite you in the ass. Cause you get what you give, and that's that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;But is happiness, being completely happy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; the time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I think everyone needs to be sad, to be really happy, you know... That you have to loose and let go of certain things, grieve, cry, be mad at world, your friends and enemies, to really appreciate that blissful feeling, we know as happiness. Or being happy for someone else, even if it means that you cant be happy yourself. Sometimes y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;ou could be happy if you let go. Holding on to things that's not meant to be, will only make you miserable in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;the end. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;What makes you happy changes. Day to day  year to year. I know what used to make me happy, don't any &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;more. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'm better at appreciating the little joys in life now, than I used to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Little things make me happy, so happy. Right now these pictures make me happy :))))) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/S1TzedLkbrI/AAAAAAAAADw/3dFrqlS3FQw/s400/tumblr_ktivseAVxO1qzb0ruo1_500_large.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428231155443068594" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/S1TzFt96ZII/AAAAAAAAADo/-qOJr1fnEDs/s400/tumblr_kvuu2x7iFP1qze4yoo1_500_large.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 295px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428230730452460674" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-2484048914550983365?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/2484048914550983365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=2484048914550983365&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/2484048914550983365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/2484048914550983365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-could-be-happy-if-you-let-go-you.html' title='18.02.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/S1TzedLkbrI/AAAAAAAAADw/3dFrqlS3FQw/s72-c/tumblr_ktivseAVxO1qzb0ruo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-265186898072696996</id><published>2010-01-03T01:34:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T18:48:36.003+02:00</updated><title type='text'>03.01.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Omg, I just finished reading Breaking Dawn..........................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;................................................. And&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;died with tears in my eyes. "Goodbye, Jacob, my brother… my son."&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/1608968393168262344-265186898072696996?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/265186898072696996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=265186898072696996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/265186898072696996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/265186898072696996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/01/goodbye-jacob-my-brother-my-son.html' title='03.01.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-8854010764136739627</id><published>2010-01-02T15:32:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T18:49:29.655+02:00</updated><title type='text'>02.01.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Careful, love. You're a bit stronger than I am for the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I thought to myself that maybe I shouldn’t write so much about twilight... That I should spare myself and my two readers the gagging sensation. Yeah right, and what the hell … But I didn’t do so badly after all. It’s about a month since I last blogged about Twilight. Yet again, there’s a month since I last blogged – at all… Anyway, I’m almost done with Breaking Dawn (yes I finally sucked it up and gathered up the nerves to buy and read it.) And of course I loved it. But then it got sad and I started crying… several times actually. So I’m actually considering not reading the last chapters. (I’m a sucker for the happy endings.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;But who in heavens name am I really trying to fool here. We all know I’m going to read it! Right after I’m done with this I’ll probably throw myself over the book and die little by little because there’s no more Twilight… Yeah. But at least I made an awesome book mark with a picture of Bella and Edward. It’s nice. I might stare at it for the rest of eternity… or spend my night with facebook – as usual.&lt;/span&gt;&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/1608968393168262344-8854010764136739627?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/8854010764136739627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=8854010764136739627&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/8854010764136739627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/8854010764136739627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2010/01/careful-love-youre-bit-stronger-than-i.html' title='02.01.2010'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-6654926615283359184</id><published>2009-11-26T15:27:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T18:55:47.311+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My thoughts'/><title type='text'>27.11.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;There's so much I want right now. I don't wanna sound selfish, but you will always want more. It's that darn materialism. I want it to be Christmas, because.. well, it's Christmas! And at the same time, I want it to be summer. Because summer is probably the best time of the year, because of the heat, the two months of vacation.. FREEDOM is the key word. I wanna go to Paris, walk up all the stairs of the Eiffel tower. I wanna travel.. to South America, Mexico, the states, London, India, Thailand, China, Madagascar, the Fillipines, Indonesia. Yeah, the list is long! I wanna drink Starbucks coffee, gamble in Las Vegas, I wanna ice skate in Central Park, I want to see a Broadway show, I wanna feel like Carrie - shopping in New York, walk all the way to the top of the Queen of Liberty.. I wanna ride on elephants.. I want a dog. Palm trees. I want a reflex camera. I still wish for a sudden talent of singing. I wanna be able to draw something pretty. Rainbows every day. A Chanel bag. I wish that I hadn't read the Twilight books, cause that's -  no matter how weird that sounds - a great experience. I think I'll never find a book, that will give you all those feelings at one time. Stephenie Meyer really did it! I wanna learn how to play guitar. Skydiving. I mean.. wow. So, hopefully I have somethings to cross of my list. Eventually &lt;:)))))) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Sw8ET83Z2tI/AAAAAAAAADY/KBKyLZfqd1M/s400/828449012_e55333c959_large.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408546418297789138" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-6654926615283359184?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/6654926615283359184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=6654926615283359184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6654926615283359184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6654926615283359184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-only-want-you.html' title='27.11.2009'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Sw8ET83Z2tI/AAAAAAAAADY/KBKyLZfqd1M/s72-c/828449012_e55333c959_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-7810938955381672160</id><published>2009-11-26T12:16:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T18:54:52.854+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twilight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Moon'/><title type='text'>23.11.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I knew last night was going to be good. I could feel it already when I woke up that morning, with butterflies in my stomach of course.. Cause we were going to see New Moon! Four of my girlfriends and myself saw New Moon - in my case, for the very first time! And I really liked it. It was so sad when Edward left. It really was heartbreaking. Oh, and I just loved the part in Rome. That's also my favorite part in the book, so that worked out great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;It is incredible that you can capture love like that on film. Not only love, but also hate, pain and jealousy. Like the drama with J, E and B, I love it, but at the same time I feel so sorry for Edward, cause he is like so .. perfect! And Bella just have to fall in love with Jake, I don't blame her, but come on! Edward is perfection! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;As the partypooper I am, I have to say.. that I loved the film, I really did. Uhm, but the book is so much better! I think it always will be like that. If a movie is based on a book, it will never be better than the actual novel. It is impossible, I guess, because you can't capture the feelings, the thoughts and the sound of a heartbeat. And that right there, is what makes a book so good. I still haven't read the fourth book yet, but I have this feeling, that it won't top Eclipse. That too is kind of impossible. I mean.. I love that book, and I ask myself, how can it get any better than my favorite book? It can't &lt;:))) But if it turns out to be better than the third book, I'll eat my hat! That's a promise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-7810938955381672160?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/7810938955381672160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=7810938955381672160&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/7810938955381672160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/7810938955381672160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/11/your-hold-is-permanent-and-unbreakable.html' title='23.11.2009'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-2832183213245162882</id><published>2009-11-23T15:30:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T18:55:27.621+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twilight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Moon'/><title type='text'>23.11.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I can't wait for Wednesday night! That's the day I've been waiting for, for so long! That's day we're going to see New Moon! Oh my God, I'm so excited, I can't wait! I really wanted to see the premiere, but that was this weekend, the reason for my almost death, the forest trip. So that didn't work out.. But it's only two days left before i get to see the movie I've been waiting so long to see! Right now I'm crazy, crazy into Twilight again. I've downloaded SO many pictures from Twilight, most of them of Robert anyway. But really, can you blame me? &lt;:)))))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I love the last part of New Moon. From the moment Bella steps out of the yellow car Alice stole. Ah, that's love right there. And here are some parts I absolutely adore!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#7A7A7A;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;  white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; white-space: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"You weren't going to let go. I could see that. I didn't want to do it—it felt like it would kill me to do it—but I knew that if "I couldn’t convince you that I didn’t love you anymore, it would just take you that much longer to get on with your life. I hoped that, if you thought &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I’d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; moved on, so would you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"After all the thousand times I’ve told you I love you, how could you let one word break your faith in me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"I could see it in your eyes, that you honestly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;believed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; that I didn’t want you anymore. The most absurd, ridiculous concept—as if there were any way that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; could exist without needing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars—points of light and reason… And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn’t see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"You’re wounding my ego, Bella. I just proposed to you, and you think it’s a joke."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Swqc5WooTVI/AAAAAAAAADQ/SsdrHHusV-k/s1600/tumblr_ktj7pdSMd31qa9o8bo1_500_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 374px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Swqc5WooTVI/AAAAAAAAADQ/SsdrHHusV-k/s400/tumblr_ktj7pdSMd31qa9o8bo1_500_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407306811754171730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Swqc5OqeLFI/AAAAAAAAADI/mEbCOppfHEE/s1600/__team_twilight_by_likeagoddess_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Swqc5OqeLFI/AAAAAAAAADI/mEbCOppfHEE/s400/__team_twilight_by_likeagoddess_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407306809614412882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-2832183213245162882?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/2832183213245162882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=2832183213245162882&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/2832183213245162882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/2832183213245162882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-good-liar-bella-i-have-to-be.html' title='23.11.2009'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Swqc5WooTVI/AAAAAAAAADQ/SsdrHHusV-k/s72-c/tumblr_ktj7pdSMd31qa9o8bo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-9123325507910750914</id><published>2009-11-22T18:16:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T18:56:18.461+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My everyday'/><title type='text'>22.11.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;This weekend.. I have no words. I literally thought I was going to die  at some points. Especially at night. It was so cold and wet. At night I was more awake than I was asleep. We woke up all the time, because we were cold. I have never been that cold in my life, at least the last night. When we woke up.. everything was wet. Everything! The stupid tent wasn't water proof, and so when we woke up my friend was lying in a pond. That was terrible.. I've been really scared the whole trip. Scared of either falling - cause we were up high - freezing to death, the dark or get molested by an animal. It was the most incredible trip ever. Like not so much in a good way, even though it was cozy some times. Like when we were lying by the bonfire, listening to the sparking sounds, laughing and looking at the stars. But I know this much: Never again!&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/1608968393168262344-9123325507910750914?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/9123325507910750914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=9123325507910750914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/9123325507910750914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/9123325507910750914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/11/here-comes-familiar-taste-of-fear.html' title='22.11.2009'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-440836366803699920</id><published>2009-11-02T21:53:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T19:05:25.346+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My thoughts'/><title type='text'>03.11.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Death is peaceful, easy. Life's harder..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I truly do wonder what it's like there. In heaven, hell or where ever we end up. I like to think I would end up in heaven - if there's such a place. Maybe there is an afterlife, and we turn in to another person, another object in another time.. Every time I hear people say something like; You only have one life, do the best with what you got. I guess that's true - to a degree. But every time I hear that, I'm thinking that maybe this isn't it, maybe there's more out there. That we're not finished when we die, but life keeps going and going. Like a circle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm only guessing that the way to find out - is to go towards the light.. And I'm not willing to do that just yet. I'm only seventeen years old. I'm not supposed to know what life is yet. I have absolutely NO idea what will happen in the future. Like I know that nothing in life i certain, nothing's set in stone. Except for death. That's the one thing I know will happen later. Later as in maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, maybe in eighty years. And that really scares me - that the one thing I'm certain about is that I'm going to die. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The thing is, I'm really not scared of dying, but I'm dreading the thought. I don't want to die - and I know this sounds selfish as hell - but the reason.. Is that I don't want to hurt the people around me, I don't want them to be sad. It breaks my heart when the people I love is hurting. Because I know what it's like when you loose someone you love. I've lost two people to death, and it's the worst! I really hope that won't happen anytime soon again - that would knock me of the edge..  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-440836366803699920?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/440836366803699920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=440836366803699920&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/440836366803699920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/440836366803699920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/11/let-me-sign.html' title='03.11.2009'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-2354748257902614096</id><published>2009-11-01T22:58:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T22:53:59.444+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sayings'/><title type='text'>Things change..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. Stop planning your life &amp;amp; let it plan itself. Quit trying to find the perfect boy &amp;amp; let him find you. If you don't want drama, then don’t talk shit. Things are only as complicated as you make them. There comes a point in your life when you realize who matters, who never did, who won't anymore, and who always will. So don't worry about people from your past, there's a reason why they didn't make it to your future.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt, because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;. Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/1608968393168262344-2354748257902614096?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/2354748257902614096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=2354748257902614096&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/2354748257902614096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/2354748257902614096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/11/things-change.html' title='Things change..'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-7364134778351605189</id><published>2009-10-17T15:19:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T22:59:13.675+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My everyday'/><title type='text'>Regardless, I have better reflexes..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;After work today, I went by the grave yard. Just to check in.. I don't really like the cemetery, but at the same time there is some kind of quiet, peaceful athmosphere over it all. I went to see my grandfathers grave, and Karinas. They're both so pretty, just like the persons they used to be. I feel like being at that place, it's like being in a protecting buble - nothing can hurt you there, because just being there hurts..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I went walking up the hills I was thinking of Edward. Yet agin. It's amazing how &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt; book can control your mind like that. I kept walking and walking, and thinking. And then I was home. I have walked that path so many times that my feet just took me where I were supposed to go - without thinking about it. Before I knew it I stood in the driveway of our house. Where my warm bed and my beloved book Twilight - wich I have started reading again - was waiting :)&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/1608968393168262344-7364134778351605189?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/7364134778351605189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=7364134778351605189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/7364134778351605189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/7364134778351605189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/10/regardless-i-have-better-reflexes.html' title='Regardless, I have better reflexes..'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-4075175612319188848</id><published>2009-10-06T23:44:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:01:49.585+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hunks'/><title type='text'>Nothing to say</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I have great news! Yesterday there were boy in our English class, having a presentation telling us about Canada - because he went there to study last year. He is one year older than me, and he is absolutely gorgeous! The freaky thing is that he is a complete Edward Cullen look a like! Oh my god, I thought I was going to die. He is handsome as hell. I mean like really handsome. And besides, it helps that he looks like Edward. Believe me!&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, that it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;turns&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; out that he is going to my school! I stood next to him in the cafeteria today, and I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; stop staring at him. There is something with him, that reminds me of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;, but I'm not quite sure what it is yet. I have to keep looking :D&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/1608968393168262344-4075175612319188848?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/4075175612319188848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=4075175612319188848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/4075175612319188848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/4075175612319188848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/10/nothing-to-say.html' title='Nothing to say'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-3263416116868297638</id><published>2009-09-30T22:51:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:06:52.953+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twilight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My thoughts'/><title type='text'>And then he was running.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;The last days, no make that week, I have been totally lost in Twilight, yet again! I have read the books, listened to the music - like all the time - and the big finally here is that I have actually seen the Twilight movie for the very first time. And I really loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last six months I've been doing some Twilight thinking - cause I wasn't sure if I actually was going to read the books. I know! Stupid me, right.. So I talked to some friends who had read the books and watched the movie. Which basically means everyone!. Obviously, I haven't met one person who didn't love the books. And that's a big accomplishment - so Stephenie Meyer, here's to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;yah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the movie, that's different. I think that most of the Twilight books are feelings and thoughts, and that's something you can't get on tape. But still, I liked the movie, and I'm only guessing that next ones will be as Edward. Perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right now, I'm reading, watching, obsessing, loving Twilight. I am crazy into it, like never before. It's scary really.. And the fact that there's not only one good guy but two, who by the way are perfect. All though they're not perfect, because they're more than that - there are not words to describe them. "Edward and Jacob raises the standard for men everywhere." And I really promised myself that I wouldn't become this crazy, fanatic fan. But I'm starting to become what I promised myself I wouldn't be. Now, I'll leave you to your thoughts. Either it's Twilight, sex or cats. That one is for you Mari!&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/1608968393168262344-3263416116868297638?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/3263416116868297638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=3263416116868297638&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/3263416116868297638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/3263416116868297638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/09/and-then-he-was-running.html' title='And then he was running.'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-3995449074742938274</id><published>2009-09-20T01:13:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:06:32.455+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My thoughts'/><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This weekend has been weird, and the last couple of days have been really sad. One of my closest friends lost his dad two days ago. There's no one that deserves a family member being dead, but this boy really doesn't. I feel really bad for him. I think we all know how it feels when someone you love is being taken away from you. I lost my grandfather a year ago, and he wasn't my dad, but he almost was. He was great, and miss him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;It really puts life in perspective, you know? How we take the smallest things for granted, and fuss and fight about the smallest things. And its sad that it takes a tragedy to make us all understand this. That our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;lives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; are so unpredictable, and you really have to live every moment of every hour to the fullest. Because you never know when its your turn. And love the people that treat you right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; the one &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; living by. Rest in peace.&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/1608968393168262344-3995449074742938274?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/3995449074742938274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=3995449074742938274&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/3995449074742938274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/3995449074742938274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/09/death.html' title='Death'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-5114260540684684929</id><published>2009-08-29T01:12:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:06:02.117+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My everyday'/><title type='text'>Before you Bella, my life was like a moonless night.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I went home from my friends house &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;earlier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; this night, I was truly amazed. The sky was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;unbelievable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;! Stars everywhere, and it was so beautiful! I even saw a shooting star, and I hurried to make a wish :) At first I thought it was a plane, but it didn't wink green and red, and it was to slow and small. I think that was the first time I saw a shooting star. It was nice! After that I just stood in our driveway, and looked at the stars. I tried to make out some constellations, but I only found the Big Dipper. That is pretty much the one I know :) But stars are nice, even if they are in patterns or not:))))&lt;br /&gt;&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/1608968393168262344-5114260540684684929?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/5114260540684684929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=5114260540684684929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5114260540684684929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5114260540684684929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/08/twinkle-twinkle-little-star.html' title='Before you Bella, my life was like a moonless night.'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-6986371213548468030</id><published>2009-08-24T23:40:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:07:26.409+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My everyday'/><title type='text'>I hope you enjoy disappointment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;New school year, new possibilities, and of course I overslept. Yes, way to make a good first impression. But when i got in (30 minutes after the others), our new teacher didn't even notice that one more student had arrived. Fine by me :)&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/1608968393168262344-6986371213548468030?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/6986371213548468030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=6986371213548468030&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6986371213548468030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/6986371213548468030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/08/score.html' title='I hope you enjoy disappointment'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-1752820929725971980</id><published>2009-08-16T23:41:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:07:55.239+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eclipse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>It's late.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I am going to go to bed soon, but first I just wanted to post some of the most beautiful words ever printed on paper. And yes, of course it is from the Twilight saga, and this time the third book - Eclipse. My eyes tears up every time I read this, and I have probably read that chapter about a hundred times. Here it is, enjoy ♥&lt;br /&gt;"It's late. Sleep, my Bella. Dream happy dreams. You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. It will always be yours. Sleep, my only love."&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/1608968393168262344-1752820929725971980?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/1752820929725971980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=1752820929725971980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/1752820929725971980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/1752820929725971980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-late.html' title='It&apos;s late.'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1608968393168262344.post-5082379387548955147</id><published>2009-08-16T23:20:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:08:23.655+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthdays'/><title type='text'>Love you, baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The actual reason why I am posting crap this time, is because one of my prettiest, most fantastic and wonderful friend turns seventeen tomorrow :) I just want to say, happy happy birthday, Mari! I love you more than eternity and everything farther! And I can't wait for your birthday party, and where ever the train trip leads us tomorrow :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Soh6WcbqA8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/fLww-bqvtgI/s1600-h/n538190548_1589136_4064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370677081647219650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Soh6WcbqA8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/fLww-bqvtgI/s400/n538190548_1589136_4064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1608968393168262344-5082379387548955147?l=whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/feeds/5082379387548955147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1608968393168262344&amp;postID=5082379387548955147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5082379387548955147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1608968393168262344/posts/default/5082379387548955147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenlifegivesyoubananas.blogspot.com/2009/08/love-you-baby.html' title='Love you, baby!'/><author><name>Eline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14156045492078705540</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kIcDSqm-dus/Soh6WcbqA8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/fLww-bqvtgI/s72-c/n538190548_1589136_4064.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
