<?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-6554895884492138095</id><updated>2011-08-29T12:47:56.096Z</updated><title type='text'>i like the smell of rain</title><subtitle type='html'>thoughts...    events...  now ICELAND... and RES...       
earlier Poland...    Belgium...          
 

Erasmus...    University...     

        
ups and downs...           


questions...              


no answers?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-3235119603221664038</id><published>2009-08-15T22:47:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-08-16T00:18:40.048Z</updated><title type='text'>6 months anniversary</title><content type='html'>so in 2 days it will be six months since I took off from Warsaw Fryderyk Chopin Airport. on Wednesday it was 25 weeks of my stay in Akureyri.&lt;br /&gt;blink of an eye that's how fast it passed.&lt;br /&gt;much have happened, true. but still! it's hard to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday exams and King's Cup (drinking card game every Monday evening). Easter break and gipsy trip around Iceland.&lt;br /&gt;May with finals and June with study tour.&lt;br /&gt;beautiful summer weather was here for two weeks only. temperatures up to 20 degrees!! and I got tanned :)&lt;br /&gt;new semester has started on June 15. Biofuels &amp; Bioenergy Concentration. only 5 people in the group, mainly Icelandic professors. and my favourite biochemistry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's green everywhere, weather is grey, wind's chilly. and night is back. for few weeks outside was simply amazing. that's sun from June 22 at 01:15 am. setting!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/SodAMmEaIFI/AAAAAAAABpU/jXGJkOwM940/s1600-h/09-06-17+Tracing+sun+on+the+longest+day+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:centre; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 448px; height: 336px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/SodAMmEaIFI/AAAAAAAABpU/jXGJkOwM940/s320/09-06-17+Tracing+sun+on+the+longest+day+012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370331665784250450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now days is getting shorter by 10 minutes every day. soon it will get dark for 20h a day. uh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some camping trips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fish Day 08.08.09 - great festive with free well prepared fish, music, camping, fireworks and good weather!!! and great company (only my camera broke down ;( )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's great to be here. only sometimes I cry myself to sleep. incomparably less...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-3235119603221664038?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3235119603221664038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3235119603221664038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2009/08/6-months-anniversary.html' title='6 months anniversary'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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/_Wccn4JPkqkc/SodAMmEaIFI/AAAAAAAABpU/jXGJkOwM940/s72-c/09-06-17+Tracing+sun+on+the+longest+day+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-1125524586839914065</id><published>2009-03-16T22:32:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-08-15T22:47:34.440Z</updated><title type='text'>Iceland</title><content type='html'>So I came to Iceland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;February 5th I've received an e-mail, actually it was Kubiku who brought my attention to it. our college from ESN. that he's just finishing one year intensive programme in Renewable Energy Science, that new year has started but there are still few places left. so it's just last minute call, maybe somebody wants to go study in Iceland.&lt;br /&gt;5 days later I spoke with the coordinator that came to Warsaw, great coincidence. and on Friday morning, Feb 12, I was accepted and the sooner the better I come to Akureyri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow will be 4 weeks since I left from Warsaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;time is passing fast, my memory is not so bright any more. it is not bad idea then, to keep the track of what happened. nothing fancy, just few lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so first exam behind me. today in the morning. two days of studying to a subject that was thought intensively for 3 weeks. two big projects during it. one week each. I was so tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new subject from today. &lt;br /&gt;cake, biking 30mins trip. silly British film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and great people. best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and landscapes. WOW. white, snowy, mountainous... heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/Sb7XYvO4_hI/AAAAAAAAAdw/96qFZvDDucs/s1600-h/img_0131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/Sb7XYvO4_hI/AAAAAAAAAdw/96qFZvDDucs/s320/img_0131.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313921430339517970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-1125524586839914065?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1125524586839914065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1125524586839914065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2009/03/iceland.html' title='Iceland'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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/_Wccn4JPkqkc/Sb7XYvO4_hI/AAAAAAAAAdw/96qFZvDDucs/s72-c/img_0131.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-6403347308576549737</id><published>2007-08-27T23:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-27T23:31:05.208Z</updated><title type='text'>no comment...</title><content type='html'>I was watching &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Desperado&lt;/span&gt;, having a drink (Krupnik with tea, mmm...) when this scene came up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nQ6SUWIO4nw"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nQ6SUWIO4nw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my sex life is a disaster.&lt;br /&gt;it's not even worth complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-6403347308576549737?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6403347308576549737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6403347308576549737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/08/no-comment.html' title='no comment...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-943845705399807901</id><published>2007-08-16T12:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-16T13:09:57.327Z</updated><title type='text'>sutures</title><content type='html'>I cut my hand. at work, in the lab. nasty wound, lots of blood, sutures.&lt;br /&gt;and I can't go to Leuven for the weekend like I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but except for that I am having quite a good time. or actually was having?&lt;br /&gt;good work in the morning, then book reading (&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Merde actually &lt;/span&gt;by Stephen Clarke), some web browsing. &lt;br /&gt;that was enough to make me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;oh, and a sweet movie &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Elizabethtown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lnVjyQah7l8"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lnVjyQah7l8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my father's back. no one knows for how long. he wishes to be here as short as possible and go back to my mum.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like that too.&lt;br /&gt;it's so nice to watch them these days. the sickness brought them closer.&lt;br /&gt;now they look like a cute elderly couple. and my dad is easygoing, caring and warm. so unusual.&lt;br /&gt;but thanks to work his mind would stay clear longer.&lt;br /&gt;tough decision.&lt;br /&gt;probably his physical condition will do the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so now, despite my father's fatal disease, my poor cut hand which might not feel a touch, relationships' disaster and money shortness, I feel good.&lt;br /&gt;I am smiling.&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-943845705399807901?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/943845705399807901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/943845705399807901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/08/sutures.html' title='sutures'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5429997696019063879</id><published>2007-07-16T22:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-16T22:51:55.229Z</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>I feel so fucking incredibly lonely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one thing, the only one that I put my energy in for the last year really sincerely, has fallen apart with just one sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's too much for me.&lt;br /&gt;too much pain.&lt;br /&gt;too many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but life without people has no meaning for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get tougher.&lt;br /&gt;but I won't be that open, and my most favourite quality will be destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if I don't get tougher though...&lt;br /&gt;next time I feel abandoned there will be no more power and willing to fight for the new day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sounds overreacted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is how important it is for me.&lt;br /&gt;people, relations, friendship, closeness &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or others get hurt, or I end up crying and blue, or I don't have enough courage to get fully open and it makes pretty much no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping that after Pit's visit I will be regenerated and happy that I know a good person.&lt;br /&gt;instead I end up in much worse condition than before it.&lt;br /&gt;so great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5429997696019063879?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5429997696019063879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5429997696019063879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/07/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-6047858370880249077</id><published>2007-06-21T21:37:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-06-21T21:46:37.542Z</updated><title type='text'>my father...</title><content type='html'>my father is sick.&lt;br /&gt;they still don't know what is wrong, if this is a cancer or something else.&lt;br /&gt;he's depressed that he has no power over his condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel sorry for him.&lt;br /&gt;I am not worried, terrified, nor anxious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am I sick??&lt;br /&gt;what is wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;I felt much worse when Marcin was ill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now! it's my father for God's sake!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it me or the fact that he was never much of a father but rather an authority?&lt;br /&gt;or that I was not living with him for 18 years of my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or I am so egoistic and rotten?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please no!!&lt;br /&gt;let it be the fact that all of this is happening over a phone and I didn't really feel it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please, oh, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-6047858370880249077?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6047858370880249077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6047858370880249077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/06/father.html' title='my father...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-7625462094169473997</id><published>2007-06-09T08:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-09T22:14:44.384Z</updated><title type='text'>weird...</title><content type='html'>I feel really weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been over 4 weeks now that I don't go out.&lt;br /&gt;stay only in bed and around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it made me listless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last Friday my father went for a weekend to my mother.&lt;br /&gt;and he didn't come back.&lt;br /&gt;he ended up in a hospital.&lt;br /&gt;he will need a surgery most probably.&lt;br /&gt;so he won't be here for the next few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the weird part is, that I've been waiting to be alone in the house, like forever, but since it's so unexpected I don't know how to deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday evening my mother came.&lt;br /&gt;she stayed over for a night.&lt;br /&gt;but she drove back to Białystok already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she came, she went...&lt;br /&gt;left an emptiness again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this evening my sister is going to Spain.&lt;br /&gt;for vacations. 10 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be all by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spiritless and apathetic.&lt;br /&gt;that's who I became now.&lt;br /&gt;a thought that occurred to me - I'd like to disappear.&lt;br /&gt;evaporate like a water in a warm day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no body, no problems...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-7625462094169473997?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7625462094169473997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7625462094169473997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/06/wierd.html' title='weird...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-6584725068544164827</id><published>2007-05-24T10:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-24T11:12:48.849Z</updated><title type='text'>air...</title><content type='html'>a spring-summer scent...&lt;br /&gt;when I take a breath, for a split of a second, the fresh air brings back to me Belgium (of course, what else could you expect).&lt;br /&gt;I feel again like it was those few weeks of May and June, whene it felt right. the every day drill, getting up at 9, library, studyinh and waiting for the closing time to go swimming or meet Pit.&lt;br /&gt;my own room, my rules, my mistakes, my problems.&lt;br /&gt;there was only me who cared for my successes or failures. &lt;br /&gt;and only the person in a mirrow was the one I had to face afterwords.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now is whole bunch of people who mean something to me and facing them, even after I achive something, is hard.&lt;br /&gt;why? how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to know the answers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-6584725068544164827?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6584725068544164827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6584725068544164827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/05/air.html' title='air...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-6923520622870820570</id><published>2007-05-19T11:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-19T11:47:45.904Z</updated><title type='text'>knee..</title><content type='html'>this time it looks a bit worse.&lt;br /&gt;in the matter of facts it was an operation, they cut out my tendon to make a ligament from it.&lt;br /&gt;so it hurts now.&lt;br /&gt;and looks bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/Rk7jPJRwRjI/AAAAAAAAABA/vXVVg_QbYA8/s1600-h/kolano+po+oper+bok.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/Rk7jPJRwRjI/AAAAAAAAABA/vXVVg_QbYA8/s320/kolano+po+oper+bok.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066236480166315570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-6923520622870820570?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6923520622870820570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6923520622870820570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/05/this-time-it-looks-bit-worse.html' title='knee..'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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://bp0.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/Rk7jPJRwRjI/AAAAAAAAABA/vXVVg_QbYA8/s72-c/kolano+po+oper+bok.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-3112425059682860887</id><published>2007-05-11T19:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-13T10:15:03.647Z</updated><title type='text'>home...</title><content type='html'>hey,&lt;br /&gt;I'm back home from the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired and sleepy, can't walk more than 2 hours a day, should lie down and exercise my precious knee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so from Monday on I will have a &lt;a href="http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/rehab.html"&gt;rehab&lt;/a&gt; again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-3112425059682860887?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3112425059682860887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3112425059682860887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/05/home.html' title='home...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-1868668013515302349</id><published>2007-05-08T19:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-08T19:42:22.536Z</updated><title type='text'>big day...</title><content type='html'>tomorrow's a big day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so afraid.&lt;br /&gt;not about the operation.&lt;br /&gt;I am worried more that it won't happen tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;of course because of my irresponsibility.&lt;br /&gt;my attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but aside from my drawbacks I have many good sides.&lt;br /&gt;right?&lt;br /&gt;YES!&lt;br /&gt;but those are mainly soft skills.&lt;br /&gt;interpersonal.&lt;br /&gt;not so useful in today's world.&lt;br /&gt;but very nice when it comes to deal with people and have friends.&lt;br /&gt;you should know that best :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if all that was not enough, the washing-machine just broke.&lt;br /&gt;and there is no money to buy a new one.&lt;br /&gt;all went to pay for the operation.&lt;br /&gt;crap crap crap&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-1868668013515302349?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1868668013515302349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1868668013515302349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/05/big-day.html' title='big day...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5401965207173921319</id><published>2007-05-07T20:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-07T21:38:58.064Z</updated><title type='text'>mix...</title><content type='html'>anxiety, excitation, fear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the reason why I am afraid and can't feel the peace is that I am worried I didn't fulfill all the conditions and didn't carry my responsibilities which I should have before the operation.&lt;br /&gt;that I will realise I was supposed to do something and I just did not. simply. foolishly.&lt;br /&gt;and then, since I am not so mobile any more, I will have to ask somebody to do it.&lt;br /&gt;crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on the edge.&lt;br /&gt;keeping the balance.&lt;br /&gt;but for how much longer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe I should not ask this question?&lt;br /&gt;and, like my grandma used to say, let sleeping dogs lie. (actually in polish it's about the wolf which should not be called from the forest).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been like that since I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;first one in the kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while sitting in front of the TV and not really watching what was on, I thought I could go away. &lt;br /&gt;not just wherever but after somebody.&lt;br /&gt;to give up what I don't yet have.&lt;br /&gt;and give it a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eh, again!&lt;br /&gt;when I fail at the uni, I start looking for other ways out.&lt;br /&gt;dreaming. &lt;br /&gt;trying to find a place in the world where I can feel good again.&lt;br /&gt;usually I can find Pit there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so many years.&lt;br /&gt;and just one problem.&lt;br /&gt;maybe two.&lt;br /&gt;on and on.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why I didn't change it yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because I am afraid.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how it is when those problems are not in my life.&lt;br /&gt;in a way, I feel safe now.&lt;br /&gt;it sounds so ridicules.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I am open minded but apparently I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;if so, then were from I had courage to go to Belgium?&lt;br /&gt;or maybe the fact that I failed in a way when had to come back here taught me to be scared?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually this is how I see it.&lt;br /&gt;I see my return to Poland as a failure.&lt;br /&gt;I feel chained by this lack of success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vicious circle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5401965207173921319?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5401965207173921319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5401965207173921319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/05/mix.html' title='mix...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-9140386315069740559</id><published>2007-04-28T23:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-28T23:19:33.813Z</updated><title type='text'>Leuven...</title><content type='html'>back in Leuven.&lt;br /&gt;only for a week but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so good, so on the right place...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I never left.&lt;br /&gt;or at least not for so long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-9140386315069740559?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/9140386315069740559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/9140386315069740559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/04/leuven.html' title='Leuven...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-331243509359943600</id><published>2007-04-20T14:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-20T14:44:55.912Z</updated><title type='text'>baby-girl...</title><content type='html'>I miss him. I miss this bastard!&lt;br /&gt;but no, he is going to Nigeria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why not New Zealand? this would be farther!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and those seconds, even just split seconds, when Marcin comes to my mind and I realise that he is no longer here...&lt;br /&gt;I still don't believe it happened.&lt;br /&gt;I plan what to ask him next time we see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so unreal.&lt;br /&gt;like all that is happening was just my imagination, dream or a story I am reading.&lt;br /&gt;it's just enough to close the book and correct everything that is wrong. or not in time, or missed.&lt;br /&gt;I constantly feel like I had a possibility to get back time and redo all I want...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wake up baby-girl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-331243509359943600?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/331243509359943600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/331243509359943600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/04/baby-girl.html' title='baby-girl...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-980884474392738205</id><published>2007-03-29T09:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:39:14.819Z</updated><title type='text'>[']</title><content type='html'>Marcin died.&lt;br /&gt;yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I can't even close the skype conversation window with His name on it, where his sister contacts me, because...&lt;br /&gt;because I won't see His name on the skype-bar any more. &lt;br /&gt;I won't talk to Him any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's absolutely egoistic.&lt;br /&gt;but it's we who left here, still alive, that have to deal with our sadness, fact that He is not around any more, look at His things, clean His room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for me the most personal, important thing is smell. nowadays it's mainly perfumes. and thanks to a coincidence I have His 212 by Carolina Herrera. &lt;br /&gt;for me there is nothing stronger to wake up memories than a smell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all I can see is emptiness, black whole in places He used to be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trzymaj się Cinu...&lt;br /&gt;może tam nie ma przynajmniej swędzenia ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-980884474392738205?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/980884474392738205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/980884474392738205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/03/blog-post.html' title='[&apos;]'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-2478980045214231169</id><published>2007-03-24T21:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-24T21:33:19.672Z</updated><title type='text'>cancer...</title><content type='html'>my Friend is dying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lost the power that kept Him strong during 10 years of fighting with the cancer.&lt;br /&gt;why? why now? why at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that I am completely not prepared.&lt;br /&gt;have no idea how to react.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew He had an retrogression. another.&lt;br /&gt;one of so many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and everybody believed this time will be just the same.&lt;br /&gt;He will fight it off.&lt;br /&gt;gain few more years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost the hope.&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;while this is the only thing I can do now.&lt;br /&gt;to believe!&lt;br /&gt;and pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I don't!&lt;br /&gt;what is wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;why I killed Him already when he is still alive?!?&lt;br /&gt;why in the only moment when optimism and unreasonable faith in success is most welcome I start to be reasonable and pessimistic????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, please, take care of Him.&lt;br /&gt;be with Him, give Him strength to fight.&lt;br /&gt;please...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-2478980045214231169?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2478980045214231169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2478980045214231169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/03/cancer.html' title='cancer...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-408828868087530477</id><published>2007-03-21T09:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-21T09:34:35.433Z</updated><title type='text'>dream...</title><content type='html'>the other night I had a dream, not very nice one.&lt;br /&gt;my father stuck a knife in my back, several times.&lt;br /&gt;and the rest of my family was watching it with kind of an approval on their faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two nights later the dream where my mother didn't respect my asks and my person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to decide when to have an operation. &lt;br /&gt;it's not only that I have to be really healthy, with no inflammation and no bad bacteria but also it has to be a good day.&lt;br /&gt;what do I mean by 'good day'? stars, moon-phase and all the rest of rather indescribable powers that are all around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the one hand why not? for ages people believed in it, lived by it.&lt;br /&gt;I also know that human mind can work miracles, has extreme power.&lt;br /&gt;so why not to respect it? why not to go with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why not? because to find a day where the doctor can proceed the operation, I can have few days of the school, stars are in good constellation, moon is waning and it is a good day for Sagittarius is #~*^%%?## hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my knee hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be back to my notes.&lt;br /&gt;toxicology again, blah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-408828868087530477?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/408828868087530477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/408828868087530477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/03/dream.html' title='dream...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5979566267883014039</id><published>2007-03-13T19:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-13T20:54:23.848Z</updated><title type='text'>post...</title><content type='html'>I want to write a post soooo desperatly.&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying for few days now but there is nothing in my head that can be put in a sensible, readible piece and posted on my blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I tell you that I am sick again. this time it's a virus. 38*C, pharyngitis, 3 days in bed so long...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no idea for life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no will to study&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel sad&lt;br /&gt;nor bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am quite happy and smiling.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I accepted my new life where there is nothing except for intenet, tv, crappy food and sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pathetic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5979566267883014039?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5979566267883014039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5979566267883014039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/03/post.html' title='post...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-4225436367418666901</id><published>2007-03-01T19:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-02T00:00:16.126Z</updated><title type='text'>travel...</title><content type='html'>1h10 minutes to go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on the train now.&lt;br /&gt;going to Białystok to visit my mother...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoy this trip.&lt;br /&gt;I am looking through the window with an eye of a foreigner...&lt;br /&gt;it gives completely different view...&lt;br /&gt;much better view.&lt;br /&gt;I feel happiness from the fact that what I see outside is so different from what you can find in Western countries.&lt;br /&gt;I would never had this way of looking at the neighbourhood if not my Erasmus scholarship, my Erasmus friends and Erasmus students that came to my University...&lt;br /&gt;that's really amazing feeling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48 minutes to go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also try to organise my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;it's a 2h 40 minutes travel.&lt;br /&gt;for me it is always the best time for sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;this quiet speech of wheels, engine, wind and heating...&lt;br /&gt;drops of rain on the window...&lt;br /&gt;and I can see only 2 meters aside from the track that are lightened with the lights of the train.&lt;br /&gt;snow is still here,&lt;br /&gt;in Warsaw there was none any more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking...&lt;br /&gt;I read two good articles in the magazine.&lt;br /&gt;one about Siberia...&lt;br /&gt;and one about NLP - Neuro-linguistic programming...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baikal is coming back over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this music in my ears.&lt;br /&gt;I put on the mp3 player pieces that bring back memories.&lt;br /&gt;U2&lt;br /&gt;Juanes with La camisa negra&lt;br /&gt;Chris Isaak&lt;br /&gt;and some french chansons...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is so difficult to put into words all what is in my head at the moment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;foreigners, sightseeing, long trips, learning languages, friends, feelings, being nice and good to each other, working on your character, 'maps' we have in out heads which we use to name the world, psychology, how to do things that I actually like? what would give me an opportunity to build a good future and life on that basis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31 minutes to go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;old bus and again an impression that in this city only hopeless and clumsy people left...&lt;br /&gt;young and good looking, brave and cleaver, with the hope for a better future, all them are somewhere else...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am one of them?&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in Białystok only by coincidence, life of my family was in Warsaw, whole my childhood I was waiting to come back to Warsaw. and I did. and I feel good. and I don't feel like I was cheating on Białystok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the strangest feeling is when during any conversation, when Białystok is mentioned, I always say: 'that's where I am from!'&lt;br /&gt;but whenever I came back here, I never feel like I was at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do I feel so when I step on the platform at the train station in Warsaw? yes. but this is only because here is more people like me, I don't feel different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 minutes to go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and time to finish, battery is almost empty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in 15 minutes I will step on the platform, in the city where I grew up, the place on the earth where I don't feel good at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where is the place where I do feel good?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-4225436367418666901?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4225436367418666901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4225436367418666901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/03/travel.html' title='travel...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-6481386560837057817</id><published>2007-02-25T20:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-25T23:09:27.666Z</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>"Oni mnie nie lubią. Nie szkodzi. Kiedyś spotkam kogoś, kto będzie mnie lubił, nawet gdy nie bedę się starać. Gdy ktoś cie lubi, bo się starasz, to nie lubi cię takiej, jaką jesteś. Lubi nieprawdę o tobie..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:75%;"&gt;"Tam gdzie spadaja anioły" D.Terakowska&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They don't like me. It doesn't matter. One day I will meet someone who likes me even when I don't do my best. When someone likes you only when you're trying to be better, one doesn't like the real you. One likes a falsehood about you..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:75%;"&gt;"Where the angles fall" D.Terakowska&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/6554895884492138095-6481386560837057817?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6481386560837057817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6481386560837057817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5717377418535753191</id><published>2007-02-24T22:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-25T20:21:52.549Z</updated><title type='text'>toss and turn...</title><content type='html'>I can't fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;(in the evening of course, when it's time for it. during the day I have no problems.)&lt;br /&gt;I just toss and turn and think...&lt;br /&gt;I make plans, I have energy and will to act, to put my thoughts into effect...&lt;br /&gt;but whenever I wake up in the morning all that is gone.&lt;br /&gt;it's like everything was starting from the beginning, like nothing happened in my head, like there was no yesterday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;except for laziness, apathy and no willpower.&lt;br /&gt;that is always with me in the morning...&lt;br /&gt;that stays with me all the time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really fucking tired with it!&lt;br /&gt;it's like a &lt;span class="otherTitle"&gt;Groundhog Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when will I learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5717377418535753191?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5717377418535753191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5717377418535753191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/toss-and-turn.html' title='toss and turn...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-4309867496473321803</id><published>2007-02-22T13:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T13:21:47.297Z</updated><title type='text'>lies...</title><content type='html'>I can tell lies...&lt;br /&gt;I can do it quite well when there is such a need...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but when it comes to tell the truth...&lt;br /&gt;it's much harder.&lt;br /&gt;what do I  mean by that?&lt;br /&gt;well, in the situation when I can't do my duties, carry on my obligations  because of important and actual reasons, it is much harder to say that I can't do what I promised.&lt;br /&gt;it is easier for me to tell a very good lie which sounds really authentic when I don't want to do what has been assigned to me because of my  laziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so whenever I don't sound convincing, when it looks like I was telling lies, it might  mean that this is the moment when I actually say the truth...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-4309867496473321803?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4309867496473321803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4309867496473321803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/lies_22.html' title='lies...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-93997222984825142</id><published>2007-02-16T10:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-16T10:45:24.171Z</updated><title type='text'>salsa...</title><content type='html'>came back at 4 am.&lt;br /&gt;first time after a looooong break I went out ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the French came so we went out to get to know each other.&lt;br /&gt;it went very well, I remember two names out of 6...&lt;br /&gt;no comment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, salsa, a bit of alcohol, great people...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I remembered how to flirt!&lt;br /&gt;I brought to the day light (actually the night light) all my flirting capacities...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed it soooo much!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-93997222984825142?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/93997222984825142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/93997222984825142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/salsa.html' title='salsa...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-7710160927012191034</id><published>2007-02-14T17:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-14T22:50:32.456Z</updated><title type='text'>layout...</title><content type='html'>you like it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe, maybe not...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I do. &lt;br /&gt;I like the fact that I'm finding out how it works.&lt;br /&gt;I'm able to change basic options now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if it goes like that, I might be able to write my own algorythm soon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-7710160927012191034?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7710160927012191034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7710160927012191034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/layout.html' title='layout...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-7270566107350577513</id><published>2007-02-13T22:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-13T23:26:25.386Z</updated><title type='text'>english...</title><content type='html'>I say things to myself.&lt;br /&gt;I do it in mind.&lt;br /&gt;maybe crazy but I do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it helps me to organize my thoughts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the thing is that I do it in English...&lt;br /&gt;and I realize, that I think about my problems and analyze things in English, after a few sentences...&lt;br /&gt;in the middle of conversation with myself, I face the fact that this crazy Polish girl is thinking in English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, sorry, there is nothing going on...&lt;br /&gt;and since I wanted to put anything on the blog I came out with this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but this is what it takes...&lt;br /&gt;sitting at home for few days, alone, this is a result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's the training for post-operation time.&lt;br /&gt;going pretty well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-7270566107350577513?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7270566107350577513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7270566107350577513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/english.html' title='english...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-3190689222897833071</id><published>2007-02-08T20:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-14T16:44:56.921Z</updated><title type='text'>chris...</title><content type='html'>best of Chris Isaak...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's how I feel...&lt;br /&gt;song by song...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/i/isaak.html"&gt;lyrics&lt;/a&gt; by lyrics...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I was standing at the crossroads.&lt;br /&gt;and I had to make a decision which way to go.&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting more and more terrified, indecisive and nervous...&lt;br /&gt;I actually feel someone watching me and waiting for my decision.&lt;br /&gt;pushing and pushing&lt;br /&gt;and I am running out  of time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see it coming...&lt;br /&gt;it will break soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so if don't get myself together...............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will, actually for the first time in my life, face the consequences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;get myself together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;get&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                    together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or I will 'again' just toss off all that...&lt;br /&gt;and continue like nothing's happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-3190689222897833071?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3190689222897833071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3190689222897833071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/chris.html' title='chris...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-8271950549392290123</id><published>2007-02-02T17:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-02T17:33:19.336Z</updated><title type='text'>warmth...</title><content type='html'>I need it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a strong hug, tender touch, warm look...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone to be close...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need affection...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is an effect of being single and having only male friends, who  lately found girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;girlfriends who are being jealous, and me being paralysed, trying not to do any move which would seem like a flirt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-8271950549392290123?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/8271950549392290123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/8271950549392290123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/02/warmth.html' title='warmth...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-4770061206490132301</id><published>2007-01-31T17:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-31T17:42:21.774Z</updated><title type='text'>dreaming...</title><content type='html'>I'm dreaming again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a week ago it was bad. I didn't care of anything really...&lt;br /&gt;all I was doing was sleeping...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now it is better, knock on wood...&lt;br /&gt;I have plans, dreams and wishes...&lt;br /&gt;and energy!&lt;br /&gt;not so much but still...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the 'knock on wood' thing brings me to other superstitions...&lt;br /&gt;like today's (tonight's actually) dream.&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt that I brought my dearest Belgian friend [ ;) ] to my mother's house.&lt;br /&gt;there was also a raspberry bush and small flies...&lt;br /&gt;and all fruits were rotten.&lt;br /&gt;blah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the first thing I did when I woke up was (you can guess here)...&lt;br /&gt;yes, I checked the dreambook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, the explanation wasn't nice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, what I wanted to say is that I just do it.&lt;br /&gt;I am superstitious.&lt;br /&gt;I like it. I do it.&lt;br /&gt;I believe in it somehow.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes I take suggestions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't want to tempt faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-4770061206490132301?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4770061206490132301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4770061206490132301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/dreaming.html' title='dreaming...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-1539048091125565158</id><published>2007-01-26T21:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-26T21:38:01.055Z</updated><title type='text'>lab...</title><content type='html'>last week I started laboratory work to my master thesis...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it myself but my supervisor is a woman...&lt;br /&gt;she's only 6 years older than me, so it is working quite good.&lt;br /&gt;although I am not being myself completely, I feel well enough.&lt;br /&gt;and I am really hoping for a good cooperation with her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the subject?&lt;br /&gt;well...&lt;br /&gt;I like it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I believe that I will get to like it even more...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-1539048091125565158?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1539048091125565158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1539048091125565158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/lab.html' title='lab...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-7840688011890325549</id><published>2007-01-17T22:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-17T22:35:28.771Z</updated><title type='text'>gay...</title><content type='html'>so many times I wanted to be lesbian...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not to have a relation with a girl...&lt;br /&gt;no, not only...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;especially because I know that I would not hide myself in the closet...&lt;br /&gt;I would show the fact to the world...&lt;br /&gt;and because of that I could give an example to my friends to do the same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but being heterosexual I have no arguments...&lt;br /&gt;I can only support them by saying that I really don't care what sexual orientation people have!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as long as they are happy they can have a relationship with the same or opposite sex...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just don't hide it!&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-7840688011890325549?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7840688011890325549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/7840688011890325549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/gay.html' title='gay...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-2156662471224409642</id><published>2007-01-11T21:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-13T09:01:30.391Z</updated><title type='text'>q...</title><content type='html'>I found it on some blog.&lt;br /&gt;you suppose to bold things you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink&lt;br /&gt;02. Swam with wild dolphins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;03. Climbed a mountain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive&lt;br /&gt;05. Been inside the Great Pyramid&lt;br /&gt;06. Held a tarantula&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;08. Said “I love you” and meant it&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;09. Hugged a tree&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Bungee jumped&lt;br /&gt;11. Visited Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12. Watched a lightning storm at sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;14. Seen the Northern Lights&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;15. Gone to a huge sports game&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa&lt;br /&gt;17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables&lt;br /&gt;18. Touched an iceberg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19. Slept under the stars&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20. Changed a baby’s diaper&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;22. Watched a meteor shower&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;23. Gotten drunk on champagne&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;24. Given more than you can afford to charity&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Had a food fight&lt;br /&gt;28. Bet on a winning horse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;29. Asked out a stranger&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;30. Had a snowball fight&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Held a lamb&lt;br /&gt;33. Seen a total eclipse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;34. Ridden a roller coaster&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Hit a home run&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Adopted an accent for an entire day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Had two hard drives for your computer&lt;br /&gt;40. Visited all 50 states&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;41. Taken care of someone who was drunk&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;42. Had/Have amazing friends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. Watched whales&lt;br /&gt;45. Stolen a sign&lt;br /&gt;46. Backpacked in Europe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;47. Taken a road-trip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. Gone rock climbing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;49. Midnight walk on the beach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. Gone sky diving&lt;br /&gt;51. Visited Ireland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them&lt;br /&gt;54. Visited Japan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;55. Milked a cow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;56. Alphabetized your cds&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. Pretended to be a superhero&lt;br /&gt;58. Sung karaoke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;59. Lounged around in bed all day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60. Played touch football&lt;br /&gt;61. Gone scuba diving&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;62. Kissed in the rain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63. Played in the mud&lt;br /&gt;64. Played in the rain&lt;br /&gt;65. Gone to a drive-in theater&lt;br /&gt;66. Visited the Great Wall of China&lt;br /&gt;67. Started a business&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69. Toured ancient sites&lt;br /&gt;70. Taken a martial arts class&lt;br /&gt;71. Played D&amp;D for more than 6 hours straight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;72. Gotten married&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73. Been in a movie&lt;br /&gt;74. Crashed a party&lt;br /&gt;75. Gotten divorced&lt;br /&gt;76. Gone without food for 5 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;77. Made cookies from scratch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78. Won first prize in a costume contest&lt;br /&gt;79. Ridden a gondola in Venice&lt;br /&gt;80. Gotten a tattoo&lt;br /&gt;81. Rafted the snake river&lt;br /&gt;82. Been on television news programs as an “expert”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;83. Gotten flowers for no reason&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84. Performed on stage&lt;br /&gt;85. Been to Las Vegas&lt;br /&gt;86. Recorded music&lt;br /&gt;87. Eaten shark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;88. Kissed on the first date&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89. Gone to Thailand&lt;br /&gt;90. Bought a house&lt;br /&gt;91. Been in a combat zone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;92. Buried one/both of your parents&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93. Been on a cruise ship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;94. Spoken more than one language fluently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;95. Performed in a Rocky Horror Picture Show&lt;br /&gt;96. Raised children&lt;br /&gt;97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;98. Passed out cold&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge&lt;br /&gt;102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;103. Had plastic surgery&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived&lt;br /&gt;105. Wrote articles for a large publication&lt;br /&gt;106. Lost over 100 pounds&lt;br /&gt;107. Held someone while they were having a flashback&lt;br /&gt;108. Piloted an airplane&lt;br /&gt;109. Touched a stingray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;110. Broken someone’s heart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;111. Helped an animal give birth&lt;br /&gt;112. Won money on a TV game show&lt;br /&gt;113. Broken a bone&lt;br /&gt;114. Gone on an African photo safari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;118. Ridden a horse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;119. Had major surgery&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120. Had a snake as a pet&lt;br /&gt;121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states&lt;br /&gt;124. Visited all 7 continents&lt;br /&gt;125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days&lt;br /&gt;126. Eaten kangaroo meat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;127. Eaten sushi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;128. Had your picture in the newspaper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about&lt;br /&gt;130. Gone back to school&lt;br /&gt;131. Parasailed&lt;br /&gt;132. Touched a cockroach&lt;br /&gt;133. Eaten fried green tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;134. Read “The Iliad”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;135. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating&lt;br /&gt;137. Skipped all your school reunions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;139. Been elected to public office&lt;br /&gt;140. Written your own computer language&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;143. Built your own PC from parts&lt;br /&gt;144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you&lt;br /&gt;145. Had a booth at a street fair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;146. Dyed your hair&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;147. Been a DJ&lt;br /&gt;148. Shaved your head&lt;br /&gt;149. Caused a car accident&lt;br /&gt;150. Saved someone’s life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's pretty much it...&lt;br /&gt;although as you can see it's really American...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, have fun doing it on your own!&lt;br /&gt;and maybe you'll manage to do all those thing one day?&lt;br /&gt;it would be interesting, wouldn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good night...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-2156662471224409642?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2156662471224409642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2156662471224409642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/q.html' title='q...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-3700563421972755311</id><published>2007-01-07T21:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T22:24:19.480Z</updated><title type='text'>stupid...</title><content type='html'>the more i think about a future job, an internship, even  about my master work, the more stupid i feel...&lt;br /&gt;i'm getting an impression that i don't know a thing!&lt;br /&gt;when it comes to an essential knowledge from the field of my studies i am like a layman!&lt;br /&gt;and my results are bad also...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was younger, i found myself as an intelligent person.&lt;br /&gt;i understood things easily, i was able to study fast.&lt;br /&gt;and painless.&lt;br /&gt;now it comes with a big effort which i'm not used to completely!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel hopeless...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel that i won't find any good job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all of the adds i'm looking at are target to "&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;high academic achievers" or "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Candidates who have a strong academic background" or (the best one) "Candidates need to be studying Chemistry at A Level and should expect to get high grades."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaaaaa!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, i have some good sides. which actually look good on a paper...&lt;br /&gt;but i don't feel like i was good!&lt;br /&gt;i don't feel that i AM a STUDENT.&lt;br /&gt;that i could be an employee at the position where i would have to use the knowledge i collected during all those years at the university.  or that i at least have a background to start a job which has something to do with the profile of my studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't imagine it...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-3700563421972755311?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3700563421972755311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3700563421972755311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/stupid.html' title='stupid...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-1046995435827953426</id><published>2007-01-04T21:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-04T21:59:57.396Z</updated><title type='text'>rehab...</title><content type='html'>talking about rehab...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's my knee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RZ110zn-4NI/AAAAAAAAAAw/9G9lE9jxkd0/s1600-h/07-01-04+Kolano+002_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RZ110zn-4NI/AAAAAAAAAAw/9G9lE9jxkd0/s320/07-01-04+Kolano+002_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016295110032154834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nice, isn't it ;)&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-1046995435827953426?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1046995435827953426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/1046995435827953426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/rehab.html' title='rehab...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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://bp0.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RZ110zn-4NI/AAAAAAAAAAw/9G9lE9jxkd0/s72-c/07-01-04+Kolano+002_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-3652268361108325005</id><published>2007-01-04T21:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-04T21:24:22.557Z</updated><title type='text'>talking...</title><content type='html'>you know how it is talking to strangers...&lt;br /&gt;on the train, at the bus stop or in the shop...&lt;br /&gt;those complains, opinions or just few sentences that you exchange with people...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, after my stay in Belgium i stopped doing it.&lt;br /&gt;i don't answer, i don't say a word...&lt;br /&gt;i just look at the person and smile...&lt;br /&gt;i don't even do the nodding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's why my surprise was even bigger when i realised that i can't stop talking to the girl i met and the rehab!&lt;br /&gt;i was just telling things, making stories, giving her unneeded informations...&lt;br /&gt;i was making a conversation with a stranger...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i felt like an old lonely women who use any opportunity to speak with someone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;strange...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-3652268361108325005?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3652268361108325005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3652268361108325005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2007/01/talking.html' title='talking...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5150399094041265952</id><published>2006-12-29T20:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-30T22:18:28.224Z</updated><title type='text'>egoistic...</title><content type='html'>i noticed lately that i'm being egoistic...&lt;br /&gt;i'm self centred and i look only after my business...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earlier i used to be so altruistic.&lt;br /&gt;i was trying to take care of people, help them and to be useful for them...&lt;br /&gt;i was much nicer...&lt;br /&gt;now i don't notice peoples' needs, wishes or asks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i don't feel good with it...&lt;br /&gt;i liked myself much more earlier...&lt;br /&gt;the way i used to be, gave me more of good feelings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope that in the 2007 i will manage to come back to the mode of 'a nice altruistic girl'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite that some of you may think that this is strange...&lt;br /&gt;or unhealthy...&lt;br /&gt;or whatever...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5150399094041265952?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5150399094041265952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5150399094041265952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/egoistic.html' title='egoistic...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-3388540761341640741</id><published>2006-12-24T00:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-24T09:38:34.477Z</updated><title type='text'>magical...</title><content type='html'>I would love to wish you all very&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt; magical Christmas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Be happy and make this time as great as possible!&lt;br /&gt;Get the blessing and give the joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wesołych Świąt Kochani!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vrolijke Kerst!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frohe Weihnachten!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RY3JfebCvQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gnHUYxpLkaA/s1600-h/choinka.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RY3JfebCvQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gnHUYxpLkaA/s200/choinka.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011883502912847106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joyeux Noël!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-3388540761341640741?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3388540761341640741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3388540761341640741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/magical.html' title='magical...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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://bp2.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RY3JfebCvQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gnHUYxpLkaA/s72-c/choinka.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-2705264573513195697</id><published>2006-12-21T22:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-21T22:41:33.691Z</updated><title type='text'>shopping...</title><content type='html'>shopping for Christmas' presents  two days before Christmas Eve is not the best idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so tomorrow i'm off to my mother's place... and the real Christmas preparations will start...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, good night!&lt;br /&gt;yes, at 12pm, not 1 or 2 am.&lt;br /&gt;yes, i'm tired...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-2705264573513195697?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2705264573513195697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2705264573513195697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/shopping.html' title='shopping...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-646344474346987960</id><published>2006-12-20T23:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-20T23:52:48.718Z</updated><title type='text'>actually...</title><content type='html'>actually i like my life...&lt;br /&gt;just few slight changes and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i am starting to figure out my New Year's resolutions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the first ones are to sleep less and use my days more effectively and efficiently...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those are big ones!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what are yours?&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-646344474346987960?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/646344474346987960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/646344474346987960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/actually.html' title='actually...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-59193319081817918</id><published>2006-12-20T18:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-20T18:04:32.153Z</updated><title type='text'>sth stupid...</title><content type='html'>And then I go and spoil it all&lt;br /&gt;  by saying something stupid&lt;br /&gt;  like: "I love you" ...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-59193319081817918?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/59193319081817918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/59193319081817918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/sth-stupid.html' title='sth stupid...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-8550659846023407928</id><published>2006-12-18T21:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-19T22:26:47.129Z</updated><title type='text'>mug...</title><content type='html'>since i made first dishwashing after over a week, i had an occasion to count my mugs.&lt;br /&gt;i have six of my own, personal mugs... and a one espresso cup...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that was a really strange birthday anniversary, because of the mugs' concentration...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so next occasion maybe some books or cosmetics...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-8550659846023407928?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/8550659846023407928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/8550659846023407928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/mug.html' title='mug...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-6135039553218964616</id><published>2006-12-17T20:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-11T15:32:02.924Z</updated><title type='text'>a year ago...</title><content type='html'>at this time, one year ago i was preparing myself to go home for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;first three months of Erasmus scholarship were slowly getting towards the end.&lt;br /&gt;i had this amazing, unusual feeling of coming home, really coming to a real home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that this is what i miss most now. independence.&lt;br /&gt;i was self-reliant but still being aware that the home is there for me. that i have one no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Agu. she made that time in Belgium so great. with her i had a feeling that Christmas is coming.&lt;br /&gt;i felt the atmosphere, i was enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i smile to all those memories...&lt;br /&gt;and i am hoping that there will be a time in the future that i will feel so great again...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-6135039553218964616?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6135039553218964616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/6135039553218964616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/year-ago.html' title='a year ago...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-8751543707609046176</id><published>2006-12-14T18:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-16T22:07:17.837Z</updated><title type='text'>god...</title><content type='html'>when i got to know him in the High School, he used to call himself a god...&lt;br /&gt;whenever we were close, he made me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;with him i could explore other levels of my being, of my character.&lt;br /&gt;i liked it a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then it got a bit complicated, since he was a man and i was a woman.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to have so much of a contact with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yesterday we talked a bit.&lt;br /&gt;and i realised that i need it.&lt;br /&gt;i need this unusual feeling he managed to bring out from my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;does he still have this skill?&lt;br /&gt;i really hope so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope to find it out soon...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-8751543707609046176?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/8751543707609046176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/8751543707609046176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/god.html' title='god...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5584994998062185036</id><published>2006-12-14T00:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-14T12:21:22.871Z</updated><title type='text'>no life...</title><content type='html'>a friend of mine  said that a blog is usually written by  people who have no life or big problems...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which case of those am i?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the moment i would say that even both...&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5584994998062185036?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5584994998062185036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5584994998062185036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/no-life.html' title='no life...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5199361864552555927</id><published>2006-12-13T21:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T22:37:32.549Z</updated><title type='text'>moving...</title><content type='html'>let's see how it will be here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new page - new beginning?&lt;br /&gt;maybe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5199361864552555927?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5199361864552555927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5199361864552555927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/moving.html' title='moving...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5782580394305486070</id><published>2006-12-12T00:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:27:43.831Z</updated><title type='text'>tomorrow...</title><content type='html'>tomorrow i will get up and start it from the very beginning...&lt;br /&gt;how many times i said that to myself...&lt;br /&gt;and it never worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't believe that it will work this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but actually why wouldn't it?&lt;br /&gt;i don't know the future.&lt;br /&gt;every day is a new day, so maybe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this week we have Erasmus Day at my University.&lt;br /&gt;it will be busy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this week is the last weekend before Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;i want to meet my best Erasmuses and have a nice dinner.&lt;br /&gt;so i should think about some small, nice gifts...&lt;br /&gt;hmm, that can be really nice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is really coming!&lt;br /&gt;maybe this year it will be good and real?&lt;br /&gt;without wishes like 'maybe next year we will celebrate with some more people? ;) '&lt;br /&gt;or 'we would love to have a wedding soon'&lt;br /&gt;it's all so funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i want as wishes for me?&lt;br /&gt;to find my way.&lt;br /&gt;to know where i am going and what for.&lt;br /&gt;which path is my path...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually i wish You all, may it be a good time for You. find your place and be happy.&lt;br /&gt;or to stay at least as happy as you were at the moment you found it out already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5782580394305486070?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5782580394305486070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5782580394305486070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/tomorrow.html' title='tomorrow...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-256151765719393581</id><published>2006-12-09T23:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-11T15:27:48.781Z</updated><title type='text'>to develop...</title><content type='html'>you know what?&lt;br /&gt;what is that i want now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really want to develop a friendship with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;yes, i friendship. no, not a relationship, a friendship.&lt;br /&gt;i want us to be friends...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm really looking forward to spending some time together on a trip.&lt;br /&gt;any trip.&lt;br /&gt;few days outside the city, with the nature. or similar.&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure when or what but i would love to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;indeed, the Baikal.&lt;br /&gt;that's exactly what it should be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but till then, i have my master's research.&lt;br /&gt;i will start it this week, hopefully...&lt;br /&gt;finally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'll think about my future.&lt;br /&gt;actually...&lt;br /&gt;no. i will keep it quite, as always when it comes to a really important thing for me ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slaap wel...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-256151765719393581?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/256151765719393581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/256151765719393581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/to-develop.html' title='to develop...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-2116077405536997387</id><published>2006-12-07T23:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-20T23:43:34.646Z</updated><title type='text'>better...</title><content type='html'>i had a really nice evening with my Erasmus students...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and when i got back home, i found some e-mails...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;his&lt;/span&gt; e-mails...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's good.&lt;br /&gt;although i feel like brain washed...&lt;br /&gt;pity that we didn't make to talk today, i think i need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and really, since i can't make up my mind, i am hoping that 'the time will tell'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually the time would have to become an orator ;)&lt;br /&gt;or a politician...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RYB-PJtDZLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zZoy2x_YzYQ/s1600-h/06-12-07+Eli%27s+%26+Luis%27es+presents+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RYB-PJtDZLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zZoy2x_YzYQ/s320/06-12-07+Eli%27s+%26+Luis%27es+presents+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008141584404014258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i got a cup with a happy sheep!&lt;br /&gt;it's yellow, and the mug is orange.&lt;br /&gt;and the card, of course with a sheep also, is blue.&lt;br /&gt;in the window hangs the 'wondering sheep in love' ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and who said that i had a bad hair?? at least it is easy to buy me a present!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, it is a bed time now.&lt;br /&gt;i will go and count some sheep...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-2116077405536997387?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2116077405536997387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/2116077405536997387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/better.html' title='better...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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://bp1.blogger.com/_Wccn4JPkqkc/RYB-PJtDZLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zZoy2x_YzYQ/s72-c/06-12-07+Eli%27s+%26+Luis%27es+presents+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5558952881480328250</id><published>2006-12-06T19:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:24:39.495Z</updated><title type='text'>i'm frustrated!</title><content type='html'>i'm frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;i'm mad.&lt;br /&gt;i'm mad and frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;i'm furious!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nie, to nie to.&lt;br /&gt;tak nie działa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jestem po prostu WKURWIONA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oo, to zadziałało.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5558952881480328250?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5558952881480328250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5558952881480328250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-frustrated.html' title='i&apos;m frustrated!'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-3136974916580473487</id><published>2006-12-05T22:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-20T23:42:14.215Z</updated><title type='text'>disappointed...</title><content type='html'>i feel disappointed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;because i really hoped i am lucky this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that he is normal, not enormously great or ideal. no, just normal.&lt;br /&gt;i thought that since he is not amazing much over the average, he also doesn't have many drawbacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it is not so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; is not easy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now comes the question...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO! actually since when i am asking questions instead of listening to my intuition??&lt;br /&gt;why i am analysing if that is worth trying or not? if those disadvantages mean less or more than the benefits??&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;and what for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this birthday was again the crying one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will it be like that every five years...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-3136974916580473487?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3136974916580473487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/3136974916580473487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/disappointed.html' title='disappointed...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-975413896828059849</id><published>2006-12-04T23:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-20T23:39:10.037Z</updated><title type='text'>being 23...</title><content type='html'>today i'm 23.&lt;br /&gt;really? am i? i keep on counting because i don't really believe it.&lt;br /&gt;i have an impression that i must have skipped a year, forgot about one, or add one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. i could have a family by now. or a job. it's time when being adult and mature is normal.&lt;br /&gt;but at the same time i feel that it's so stupid and immature to think that at the age of 23 you are actually a grown-up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this way or another I AM 23...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;should i have achieved something? succeed? be someone? have something?&lt;br /&gt;is that the best time for it?&lt;br /&gt;or maybe it's just a beginning? a foundation? a time when you can still be a child of your parents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is both, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;and that's what is beautiful about this time, the time of being in your early twenties...&lt;br /&gt;it is understood and accepted to go on along any of those paths...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i wish myself good choices and straight paths&lt;br /&gt;true friends&lt;br /&gt;many interesting experiences and adventures&lt;br /&gt;and a good heart in me and for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy birthday B. !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-975413896828059849?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/975413896828059849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/975413896828059849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/being-23.html' title='being 23...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-741766974922533437</id><published>2006-12-03T17:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-16T15:22:21.013Z</updated><title type='text'>wylądował 13:54</title><content type='html'>''i made it!''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uff...&lt;br /&gt;but half an hour before it was "still the traffic jam don't think i will make it"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here we are, choosing a film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but when i saw him coming from the arrival lounge, he was the way he suppose to be.&lt;br /&gt;all handsome and good looking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the beginning it was strange just as it was expected...&lt;br /&gt;not really knowing how to act, how to behave together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but soon the awkwardness was gone and the time we spent together was perfect...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-741766974922533437?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/741766974922533437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/741766974922533437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/12/wyldowa-1354.html' title='wylądował 13:54'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-5715615290534735703</id><published>2006-11-29T20:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:20:18.678Z</updated><title type='text'>annulé...</title><content type='html'>ANNULE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grrr!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lot został anulowany...&lt;br /&gt;kilka telefonów, Polska - Belgia - WizzAir, i już lepiej!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30-11 11.30 Warszawa-Okecie WZZ422W planifié&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a jutro? powtórka?&lt;br /&gt;mgła? krzywy pas? stewardess'a po nocnej imprezie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;czy jednak 11.30 décolé?&lt;br /&gt;lot W6 422 Charleroi/Gosselies wylądował&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i to dziwne 'nie wiadomo jak się do końca zachować'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been 5 months!&lt;br /&gt;until now it was just virtual contact...&lt;br /&gt;how to do it tête-à-tête?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow will tell...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-5715615290534735703?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5715615290534735703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/5715615290534735703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/11/annul.html' title='annulé...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-939591467479096296</id><published>2006-11-28T14:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:18:23.381Z</updated><title type='text'>and now...</title><content type='html'>and now you're coming...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'if i fall in love with you, i will be coming more often...'&lt;br /&gt;but you don't believe in love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been 5 months...&lt;br /&gt;who are you?&lt;br /&gt;how are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the fog is all around...&lt;br /&gt;will you find the way?&lt;br /&gt;the way to my house?&lt;br /&gt;to my home?&lt;br /&gt;to my hart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe you already found it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the fog is all around...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-939591467479096296?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/939591467479096296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/939591467479096296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/11/and-now.html' title='and now...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6554895884492138095.post-4954699431276455804</id><published>2006-07-03T22:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:18:56.252Z</updated><title type='text'>there...</title><content type='html'>there is so many things i don't understand about you...&lt;br /&gt;there is so many things i'm not sure about you...&lt;br /&gt;i am also afraid...&lt;br /&gt;all those things you are saying are made to sound good?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why i am so afraid to be 'not cool'?&lt;br /&gt;why every time i think that this is it?&lt;br /&gt;who am i?&lt;br /&gt;who you really are?&lt;br /&gt;don't do that. don't try so hard to be hurt by someone, by me.&lt;br /&gt;why you are trying so much not to be good while at the same time you are so good?&lt;br /&gt;why am i writing all those things?&lt;br /&gt;what are you hiding?&lt;br /&gt;what am i hiding?&lt;br /&gt;why there are no stars in the sky?&lt;br /&gt;i'm lost&lt;br /&gt;things are just the way they should be...&lt;br /&gt;do you really think so?&lt;br /&gt;why i am so afraid that you will laugh at me if i ask you: "will you really go to Casablanca?" ??&lt;br /&gt;where should i be now?&lt;br /&gt;when i was leaving Poland, a year ago, i had so strong impression that i am going for good. why i am coming back now?&lt;br /&gt;am i really coming back?&lt;br /&gt;this is strange that you don't want me to know your friends.&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't matter because we won't see each other again.&lt;br /&gt;i...&lt;br /&gt;i know why i met you, am happy.&lt;br /&gt;although i am crying now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you keep a diary?&lt;br /&gt;is all what you told me true?&lt;br /&gt;and July is green...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, we are not egoistic. or maybe we are? does it matter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so many things had happened. so many things is still happening.&lt;br /&gt;there is a rose on my table.&lt;br /&gt;pink on the white table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the lake was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are you really so self confident?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to go... i need to think...&lt;br /&gt;probably when i wake up all those feelings will be gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to be so dependent on rules of society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do you feel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i feel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why you don't like dogs? pets?&lt;br /&gt;will you give me a kiss before the exam or not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am tired.&lt;br /&gt;i know what to do but i can't admit that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i burnt my tongue today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is so crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i am not sorry. i am only afraid that you will use it against me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6554895884492138095-4954699431276455804?l=beatki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4954699431276455804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6554895884492138095/posts/default/4954699431276455804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beatki.blogspot.com/2006/07/there.html' title='there...'/><author><name>Beatka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09559325535374807586</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></entry></feed>
