<?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-2127157916892808160</id><updated>2011-07-30T19:04:11.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year of Love.... maybe</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-5448189270730844040</id><published>2010-03-09T00:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T00:55:45.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Straight... but I'll Touch You</title><content type='html'>I'm well familiar with the fantasy of the straight man.  We've all done it.. the dreaming, or hoping they convert, maybe even fall in love with you to live happily ever after.  Or then there's the ones that are straight, but just want to have sex with you.  And those, my friends, are what I have encountered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case #1:  The obviously in denial gay boy.&lt;br /&gt;In college, there of course was that one guy who you knew was playing-with-matches flaming.  Everyone noticed it, but him.  So up and down he would swear that he's straight, until after a drunken night, you're sitting on the couch with him under a blanket, and he sticks his foot in your crotch.  I frakking knew it.  His idea, to then sneak into the bathroom to start his guy loving, and next thing you know he's bed bound and begging to be entered.  All the while he's saying such sweet words like "no one can know" (even your girlfriend knows) and with this continual talk, I've lost interest.  Next day he's blocked me from all forms of communication, but I don't care.  I laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case #2:  I've recently gone bi.&lt;br /&gt;Back to college, only post graduation for myself.  Had a crush on a straight coworker, never pursued anything because I respect such.  I am not one of those that pursues a conversion; they tend to find me anyway.  I was going back to my college town for a friend's bday party.  So naturally, I tell all I know I'm going to be back in town, including said straight coworker.  Before I even arrive in town, I get a surprise text from him telling me that he has recently gone bi, and really wants to see me.  Score!  Oh my luck!  To get to the point, we have bathroom happenings, and next day I don't hear from him again.  Oh well.  This one actually panged a tinge because I would've been happy to stay friends.  Maybe one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case #3:  The Unexpected&lt;br /&gt;This one, most recent (as of a week ago) came out of nowhere.  I'm out with friends.  We're a happy go lucky bunch, and new people to meet are always A OK by me.  When I go out, I never expect much to happen it comes to the male gender.  A guy in the group that was new to me decided to indulge a little information when we were alone.  While he loves the ladies, turns out he doesn't mind the company of a man body to satisfy his cravings.  Naturally I would have to ponder things in my mind, if I want to go there or not, but I thought why not?  Let's play along.  Next thing I know we are exchanging numbers.  To be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-5448189270730844040?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/5448189270730844040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-straight-but-ill-touch-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/5448189270730844040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/5448189270730844040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-straight-but-ill-touch-you.html' title='I&apos;m Straight... but I&apos;ll Touch You'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-5372795380094711325</id><published>2010-03-08T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T14:11:50.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hit is Because I'm Nice</title><content type='html'>Dear Coworker,&lt;br /&gt;     I understand how you could think such.  I was just being nice.  Many times, people mistake this niceness and come to the conclusion that I might be hitting on them.  However, I have never seen it approached with such conviction that they are convinced I am hitting on them hardcore, all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Coworker, I was just being nice to you.  I am happy to inform you that I have no interest in you at all.  See my previous entries on the "no spark" feeling, and apply it to yourself.  I do hope that you can realize was just trying to be your friend, which you should welcome, as most others we work with don't share the same sentiment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-5372795380094711325?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/5372795380094711325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/03/hit-is-because-im-nice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/5372795380094711325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/5372795380094711325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/03/hit-is-because-im-nice.html' title='The Hit is Because I&apos;m Nice'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-5235947476121910771</id><published>2010-03-03T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T22:48:42.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Factor of L</title><content type='html'>I love you.  This is usually reserved for those I claim as close friends and family, but it's never been said to anyone I've dated or been in a relationship with.  There are those I've thought I could see myself say it to.  There have been those that wanted to say it to me, but I could not in return, and there has been only one that I thought I would say it to, and receive it back, before our abrupt end.  We knew our relationship had an end date, but still started something.  But alas, my move came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I strongly feel these words in a relationship should not be thrown around all willy nilly.  If I say them, I am absolutely giving myself away, and expect the same back.  Yes, this sounds heavy, I've been told that this fades for those in love, and I've seen it happen.  Maybe I can blame my desire on my cosmic makings, being born under the sign of Venus.  Venus, you minx.  I could go into a bunch of the cliches I can see myself in, but instead, I'll simply put; Love, this is what I can only hope to find.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-5235947476121910771?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/5235947476121910771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/03/factor-of-l.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/5235947476121910771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/5235947476121910771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/03/factor-of-l.html' title='A Factor of L'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-1660725688180413982</id><published>2010-02-17T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T23:49:35.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting to Know You.... Again</title><content type='html'>I know I shouldn't get myself into these situations, but I have a hard time saying no to people.  I don't like to hurt them, but I know it's something that has to be worked on.  Alas, here I am again, out to dinner with the man who accosted my hearing modules.  But wait, there's a twist!  He is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; intoxicated!  I have a good feeling that we can simply have a nice dinner, maybe even some jollification.  Oh ho ho, hold up there.  Due to the recent drunk all the time, he's forgotten just about all that we've talked about.  So we go through the motions, same conversations.  Funny how when he's sober, he makes no moves, passes, advancements at all.  I'm perfectly ok with that, but I guess you just expect more to go wrong when you're used to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-1660725688180413982?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/1660725688180413982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/getting-to-know-you-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/1660725688180413982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/1660725688180413982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/getting-to-know-you-again.html' title='Getting to Know You.... Again'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-8312572783620708937</id><published>2010-02-17T23:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T23:43:56.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No, I think not.</title><content type='html'>There is a pattern forming.  He's drunk everytime I see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to keep giving said guy below a chance, so I go meet him with one of his friends at a different bar.  Change of pace, this is good.  Maybe the night will fare differently.  Still no spark of course, but perhaps, we can be together as just friends?  I hope.  Oooh Lordy I hope.  His friend is fun, this a good time!  As the night winds down, it's just him and myself.  We decide it's time for the after drinking food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While fooding at the bar, I see the glazed look in his eyes while he's sitting to my side.  A hand on my thigh.  Oh balls.  I know what's coming.  Right I am, he leans in, sitting next to me (don't face him, you know what he wants).  A kiss on the cheek, I can handle that.  Its a friendly friend thing to do.  Oh, that's not my cheek, instant panic, my earlobe is being sucked upon!  No!  Unacceptable!  Uh oh feeling!  I pull away, thank the lands above that he's true drunk to really care I do so.  I'd like to hope this is the last attempt.  As he gets up to go to the restroom, I feel hands encroach from behind me.  Hey, I like hugs, I can deal with this.  Fooled again!  Thanks.  My head is now being turned, his tongue heading directly in a swift forward motion towards my mouth.. I think.  Objection!  My excuse to not go through with this is that I don't like PDA.  Not a lie, so I don't feel bad.  Gladly, he complies and goes to the restroom.  Apparently his memory is so short term that I sit through another earlobe bathing after his return.  I can wash my own ears, thanks.  Let us pay and get out of here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-8312572783620708937?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/8312572783620708937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/there-is-pattern-forming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/8312572783620708937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/8312572783620708937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/there-is-pattern-forming.html' title='No, I think not.'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-7346648306988136023</id><published>2010-02-04T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T21:28:41.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Naturally.</title><content type='html'>"-see, girls like us just want hugs, really, just hugs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore&lt;br /&gt;So Many Ways to Sleep Badly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-7346648306988136023?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/7346648306988136023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/naturally.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/7346648306988136023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/7346648306988136023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/naturally.html' title='Naturally.'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-2397674103669907764</id><published>2010-02-01T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T14:21:30.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The hopeful glimmer, that I don't want.</title><content type='html'>Over a week ago, I found myself at the mercy of our single local gay bar yet again.  Not a full blown gay bar, but one where the same sex love makers happen to conglomerate. &lt;br /&gt;      ** side note, best bar memory ever consists of a robust young woman on the dance floor surrounded by a group of men dancing.  She then decided to fall upon all fours, crawl around the men, in and out of their legs like a misguided common barnyard animal... oh, how the laughter ensued.**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, while at such a place, I was enjoying conversation at a table when a fellow joined us.  We started to talk more and more, finding multitudes in common the better we got to know each other.  I had no indication of what was to come, as I was just excited to find a new friend, but yet nervous, as bar friends don't really pan out in my experience.  At the end of the night, I got the linger hug.  Now I know hugs, firmly believing one should get many a day, I know when one has lustful connotations to it.  Going home giddy at the possibility that someone likes me, I started to ponder the idea for something more in my head with this guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met up a few nights later, back the bar.  Talk was slow at first, trying to find common ground again, but then we got the snowball a rollin.  After a while, the time had come  to (with enough liquid courage) dance.  So, I pulled him to the floor, and before I know it, we are bumping into each other, hands are wandering, mouths getting close... and then... the kiss.  I felt nothing.  There was no spark.  No desire.  Nothing.  Oh God do I look disinterested while kissing him?  Do others notice that I'm not feeling anything?  Ok.  Try again.  Fuck me, still nothing.  I'm not used to this.  Even if drunk I can at least pull from the horny strength to keep things going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I have seen him since, still no spark, but amazing to have as a friend.  One month down, eleven to go.  Still, back to hoping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-2397674103669907764?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/2397674103669907764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/hopeful-glimmer-that-i-dont-want.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/2397674103669907764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/2397674103669907764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/hopeful-glimmer-that-i-dont-want.html' title='The hopeful glimmer, that I don&apos;t want.'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-4585317249827577858</id><published>2010-02-01T12:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T12:23:39.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The more recent past</title><content type='html'>Well hi there February.  I shall welcome you.  For whatever reason I despise January, no offense big J, but I just don't enjoy starting off with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do suppose it is time to divulge what has come to pass in this new life town.  These first encounters happened before my declaration of love, but since they concern the new life, I thought I should include a few of who I've met so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first encounter with a fellow gay happened soon after I moved here.  The usual story, go online, talk to a college guy that seems nice... We decide to hang out and watch a movie, oh so innocent.  Next thing I know, nakedness, and he's demanding that I paw at his balls like a cat would to yarn, yet, the noises he makes are oddly like a dying beast of burden.  We talk at the end, the usual civilness, "you have my number, let's hang again, etc..."  Haven't seen him sense, and I'm ok with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next... I get set up with a friend of a friend of a friend, the classic blind date.  We have so much in common to talk about!  Fabulous dinner!  The stars must have aligned and smiled upon me!  We set up another date as soon as possible!  Before our next date, a certain holiday has arrived, and while alone for it, I decided I'm a fun fancy and carefree young man, so I decide to go out for a bit.  Going out alone can be awkward for me at first, but I can usually find my groove.  However, it's a bit hard to find that groove when you run into your blind date and his boyfriend of a year that he neglected to tell you about.  Needless to say, above mentioned second date did not happen.  Balls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-4585317249827577858?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/4585317249827577858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/more-recent-past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/4585317249827577858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/4585317249827577858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/02/more-recent-past.html' title='The more recent past'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127157916892808160.post-6054133856552000903</id><published>2010-01-15T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T15:07:41.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And so it begins...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S1D0XZR7i1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AReViCgi4z8/s1600-h/06-the-lovers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S1D0XZR7i1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AReViCgi4z8/s320/06-the-lovers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427106233741708114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2010, I'm going to find love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was simple when I told myself this before the new year had arrived.  Who doesn't think such to themselves when projecting their perfect future in their minds?  But this time, oooh yes, this time it felt different, it felt resolved.  Being a 26 yr old newly relocated to the west coast, I could feel it, things were a changin, just ask the wind that blew with power &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course telling my friends this, I received the usual "sures" or "yeah, i bet you will", however, this felt like so much more than just the end of the year resolve, or just being inspired from watching many hours of Ally McBeal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the year began without much excitement, until I started to learn a few more things that surround my existence.  As a fan of the tarot, I have always had an interest in it, but started to delve deeper since my move and found quite the little surprising surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  My soul card is 6, the Lovers.  While this doesn't necessarily mean romantic love, it still intrigued, considering my adamant goal for 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Turns out gentle people, that my card for 2010 just happens to be the Lovers as well.  So i'm going double meaning for one year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Ok, so now i'm curious, so I decide to go to the local bookstore and check out some things on numerology, which also just so happened to back up what the Lovers were saying, going back towards the romantic love of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i'm ready, bring it on two zero one zero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little blog of createment is now here to deliver stories of my love life, whether smiles, fails, or awkwardness (more on that one later), but either way, it shall give an insight as to whether my year is really filled with love.. or maybe not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127157916892808160-6054133856552000903?l=loveyetornot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/feeds/6054133856552000903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-so-it-begins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/6054133856552000903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127157916892808160/posts/default/6054133856552000903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveyetornot.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so it begins...'/><author><name>The destined.. supposedly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00093441825644976090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S5YGkDHzTEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/SZHOv29cP48/S220/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lLI2yPnTOeY/S1D0XZR7i1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AReViCgi4z8/s72-c/06-the-lovers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
