<?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-6294845</id><updated>2011-04-22T02:03:42.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking Log</title><subtitle type='html'>Paolo &amp;middot; Nuni &amp;middot; Siopao&amp;Sex &amp;middot; Profound detachment &amp;middot; Extreme &amp;middot; Mashi &amp;middot; Tigger &amp;middot; Ducky &amp;middot; Moo &amp;middot; Bearista &amp;middot; Red Star &amp;middot; Cuffs &amp;middot; Toortles &amp;middot; Jailbait &amp;middot; OLJournal: Paolo only &amp;middot; Undies &amp;middot; Forever injured &amp;middot; Kohl &amp;middot; Frustrated pianist and artist &amp;middot; Very educational &amp;middot; NB &amp;middot; Books &amp;middot; &lt;b&gt;Married&lt;/b&gt; &amp;middot;20 kiddies &amp;middot; &lt;b&gt;IN LOVE&lt;/b&gt; &amp;middot;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lex</name><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>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-115451328618569481</id><published>2006-08-02T17:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T20:25:16.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What You See Is Not What You Get: There is more to me than meets the eyeI find it unfair that I get undermined most of the time. Earlier today, I was told that I could be rich if I married a rich man, that my brother had the makings of someone who could be so and that my sister could be so because she was smart. What was wrong? Don't I have any skill to make it out in the world? I was then </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/115451328618569481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6294845&amp;postID=115451328618569481&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115451328618569481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115451328618569481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2006/08/what-you-see-is-not-what-you-get-there.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-115379742585533841</id><published>2006-07-25T10:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T18:21:48.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>State of the Nation AddressYesterday was the president's SONA. It was pretty interesting since the cameras kept on focusing on some officials and legislators who weren't listening. Some didn't look impressed. One was actually texting. I remembered then what my former POLIGOV professor had told my class. During some sessions, these people that we choose to represent ourselves play around. I say </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/115379742585533841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6294845&amp;postID=115379742585533841&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115379742585533841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115379742585533841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2006/07/state-of-nation-address-yesterday-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-115352296139226625</id><published>2006-07-22T07:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T18:23:07.226+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On Sexual Harrasment &amp; AbuseYesterday in class, we discussed about rape. I don't really have much to say about it because I don't like thinking about it. It's horrible act. What drives men to force themselves on women? Do men not know the meaning of the word 'no'? I think it's very patriarichal of our society to even judge an innocent woman when she complains of a breech of her virtues. No woman </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/115352296139226625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6294845&amp;postID=115352296139226625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115352296139226625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115352296139226625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2006/07/on-sexual-harrasment-abuse-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-115338988764561785</id><published>2006-07-20T17:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T18:08:06.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The LibraryI have my own spot in the library. Not really my own but a specific study carrell where in I automatically go to whenever I visit. I don't think that students nowadays see the beauty of the place. A myriad of shelves filled with books. Rows and rows of overwhelming tomes of knowledge and wisdom waiting to be opened, power waiting to be unleashed. Unfortunately, the books in the library</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/115338988764561785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6294845&amp;postID=115338988764561785&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115338988764561785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115338988764561785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2006/07/library-i-have-my-own-spot-in-library.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-115288334841857746</id><published>2006-07-14T20:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T21:34:54.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Rainy Days And Mondays"Rainy days and Mondays always get me down..."That's a line from a Carpenters' song. I've observed that plenty of people abide by that. They agree that rainy days and Mondays aren't exactly the best days. I wonder if its my personality that dictates my going against this trend. I love it when it rains. It sometimes feels like the world is being cleansed through the cries of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/115288334841857746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6294845&amp;postID=115288334841857746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115288334841857746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115288334841857746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2006/07/rainy-days-and-mondays-rainy-days-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-115253507790775354</id><published>2006-07-10T20:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T20:41:44.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On School StuffI hate RELSTWO, I really do. I do not like the subject at all. I do not see the point as to why every student must take 4 courses on Religion. But then again, the university has Catholic roots. I would still like to point out that the curriculum is for high-school students and the lessons are entirely irrelevant. The institution should let the students think for themselves or </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/115253507790775354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6294845&amp;postID=115253507790775354&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115253507790775354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115253507790775354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2006/07/on-school-stuff-i-hate-relstwo-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-115168254340471081</id><published>2006-06-30T23:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T23:59:42.240+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On Music AppreciationHow sad that not a lot of people from my generation can listen to classical music and find the beauty in it. They don't find the time to listen to what the notes try to convey. There's a story to every song out there even if does not have words. Anyway, when I have children, I hope they'd share my love for classical music or just be able to listen to everything and find that </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/feeds/115168254340471081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6294845&amp;postID=115168254340471081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115168254340471081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/115168254340471081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2006/06/on-music-appreciation-how-sad-that-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294845.post-107948912237641240</id><published>2004-03-17T10:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:11:22.210+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Last one: Self DoubtI doubt when I know I can't do it. Why do I know? Because I am sickly and I know I can't force myself to the extremes. So there.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948912237641240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948912237641240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/03/last-one-self-doubt-i-doubt-when-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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-6294845.post-107948893052909290</id><published>2004-03-17T09:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:06:27.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mar 1: On worryingThat's a load of bull. Worrying can be ok. Just don't worry too much. Like being scared it's a safety precaution.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948893052909290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948893052909290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/03/mar-1-on-worrying-thats-load-of-bull.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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-6294845.post-107948847780983590</id><published>2004-03-17T09:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:12:13.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Feb 16: Fears Fears, they're safety precautions that we take seriously. They make us more careful and detailed. What if we were afraid of the things that we need to be afraid of? Would we be extremely cautious? Would everyone prosper? Or would we just stop technological growth?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948847780983590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948847780983590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/03/feb-16-fears-fears-theyre-safety.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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-6294845.post-107948794242957560</id><published>2004-03-17T09:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:13:39.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Feb 2: What will make me happy even withoutI think I'll be happy without two beds. One is enough for me. I'd still be happy if I didn't have a big wallet. Membership to some clubs, I can do without. I think I'm content without that much food, I am going on a diet anyway (right).What I think will drive me to suicide if I didn't have one is/are:1) A computer. - Not a crappy one like the on I'm </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948794242957560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948794242957560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/03/feb-2-what-will-make-me-happy-even.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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-6294845.post-107948713045489689</id><published>2004-03-17T09:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:14:27.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jan 26 I don't think blaming anyone would solve anything. Why not just take the heat and get fried? It'd do marvels to you, really. After that you'll get used to telling the truth it wont matter anymore. You avoid lying and more frequent flyer miles to hell.Partially, I would blame my teachers. I mean if they give a lot all at the same time, I'm screwed, let's face it. Partially, I'd blame myself</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948713045489689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107948713045489689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/03/jan-26-i-dont-think-blaming-anyone.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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-6294845.post-107586149193794446</id><published>2004-02-04T10:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:16:47.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>January 19: On Solving Problems I don't remember any instance in my life where in I was hit with a problem and I solved it on my own. I don't think I critically analyzed anything. I'm the type of person who'd find someone to lean on. I don't know. Oh wait. Yeah. There was this one time I was in a mess. I couldn't get out of it and I didn't want to eventhough I was already having a helluva hard </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107586149193794446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107586149193794446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/02/january-19-on-solving-problems-i-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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-6294845.post-107465310307078753</id><published>2004-01-21T10:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:21:22.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>January 12: On RedundanciesI don't really remember anything about that nor can I find anything in my life that maybe a good example for a redundancy. Probably the best I can come up with is the usual scenario in our love life. Yeah, the usual you like him, he likes you or vice versa then you guys become close yada yada yada then somehow some weird sh*t happens and kaboom! Whatever you have is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107465310307078753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107465310307078753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/01/january-12-on-redundancies-i-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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-6294845.post-107404897881906174</id><published>2004-01-14T10:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T20:24:19.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>January 5: What is courtesy? Why and how is courtesy practiced in Information Technology and it's implication if it is not followed?Courtesy is something that people have. It's like a manner of some sort that makes the people who have it look nice, pleasant and good.Why and how is courtesy used in IT? Well they use it to make program codes more managable. How? They make things like codes for long</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107404897881906174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6294845/posts/default/107404897881906174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://malconasse.blogspot.com/2004/01/january-5-what-is-courtesy-why-and-how.html' title=''/><author><name>Lex</name><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>
