<?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-14828796</id><updated>2012-01-08T04:43:01.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stories, Proverbs and Quotes  Collection</title><subtitle type='html'>It Contains the diverse collection of Motivational stories , Quotes and proverbs for almost all occasions</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</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>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112436913379483328</id><published>2005-08-18T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T05:45:33.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love her</title><content type='html'>This is a true story and it goes like this............&lt;br /&gt;10 th Grade-&lt;br /&gt;As I sat there in English class,&lt;br /&gt;I stared at the girl next to me.&lt;br /&gt;She was my so called 'best friend'.&lt;br /&gt;I stared at her long, silky hair,&lt;br /&gt;and wished she was mine.&lt;br /&gt;But she didn't notice me like that,&lt;br /&gt;and I knew it. After class,&lt;br /&gt;she walked up to me and asked me for&lt;br /&gt;the notes she had missed the day before.&lt;br /&gt;I handed them to her.&lt;br /&gt;She said 'thanks' and gave me a kiss on the cheek.&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell her, I want her to know&lt;br /&gt;that I don't want to be just friends,&lt;br /&gt;I love her but I'm just too shy,&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11th grade-&lt;br /&gt;The phone rang. On the other end,&lt;br /&gt;it was her. She was in tears,&lt;br /&gt;mumbling on and on about how her&lt;br /&gt;love had broke her heart.&lt;br /&gt;She asked me to come over because&lt;br /&gt;she didn't want to be alone, So I did.&lt;br /&gt;As I sat next to her on the sofa,&lt;br /&gt;I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine.&lt;br /&gt;After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie,&lt;br /&gt;and three bags of chips, she decided to go home.&lt;br /&gt;She looked at me, said 'thanks' and gave me a kiss&lt;br /&gt;on the cheek..&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell her, I want her to know that&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be just friends,&lt;br /&gt;I love her but I'm just too shy,&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senior year-&lt;br /&gt;One fine day she walked to my locker.&lt;br /&gt;'My date is sick' she said, 'hes not gonna go'&lt;br /&gt;well,&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have a date, and in 7th grade,&lt;br /&gt;we made a promise that if neither of us had dates,&lt;br /&gt;we would go together just as 'best friends'.&lt;br /&gt;So we did. That night, after everything was over,&lt;br /&gt;I was standing at her front door step.&lt;br /&gt;I stared at her as She smiled at me&lt;br /&gt;and stared at me with her crystal eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Then she said- 'I had the best time, thanks!'&lt;br /&gt;and gave me a kiss on the cheek.&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell her,&lt;br /&gt;I want her to know&lt;br /&gt;that I don't want to be just friends,&lt;br /&gt;I love her but I'm just too shy,&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduation-&lt;br /&gt;A day passed, then a week, then a month.&lt;br /&gt;Before I could blink, it was graduation day.&lt;br /&gt;I watched as her perfect body floated like an&lt;br /&gt;angel&lt;br /&gt;up on stage to get her diploma.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted her to be mine-but&lt;br /&gt;she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it.&lt;br /&gt;Before everyone went home,&lt;br /&gt;she came to me in her smock and hat,&lt;br /&gt;and cried as I hugged her.&lt;br /&gt;Then she lifted her head from my shoulder&lt;br /&gt;and said- 'you're my best friend, thanks' and&lt;br /&gt;gave me a kiss on the cheek.&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell her, I want her to know&lt;br /&gt;that I don't want to be just friends,&lt;br /&gt;I love her but I'm just too shy,&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marriage-&lt;br /&gt;Now I sit in the pews of the church.&lt;br /&gt;That girl is getting married now.&lt;br /&gt;and drive off to her new life,&lt;br /&gt;married to another man.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted her to be mine,&lt;br /&gt;but she didn't see me like that,&lt;br /&gt;and I knew it.&lt;br /&gt;But before she drove away,&lt;br /&gt;she came to me and said 'you came !'.&lt;br /&gt;She said 'thanks' and kissed me on the cheek.&lt;br /&gt;I want her to know that&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be just friends,&lt;br /&gt;I love her but I'm just too shy,&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death-&lt;br /&gt;Years passed, I looked down at the coffin&lt;br /&gt;of a girl who used to be my 'best friend'.&lt;br /&gt;At the service, they read a diary entry&lt;br /&gt;she had wrote in her high school years.&lt;br /&gt;This is what it read:&lt;br /&gt;'I stare at him wishing he was mine;&lt;br /&gt;but he doesn't notice me like that,&lt;br /&gt;and I know it. I want to tell him,&lt;br /&gt;I want him to know that&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be just friends,&lt;br /&gt;I love him but I'm just too shy,&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;I wish he would tell me he loved me !&lt;br /&gt;.........'I wish I did too...'&lt;br /&gt;I thought to my self, and I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time doesn't wait. If you think you might have found&lt;br /&gt;the right one, treasure the person, don't let that person get away.&lt;br /&gt;Don't let fear hold You back. Give it a try else you might regret&lt;br /&gt;later... No one other than ourselves know what can truly make us&lt;br /&gt;happy. Do yourself a favour, tell her/him you love&lt;br /&gt;them.They won't be there...Forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112436913379483328?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112436913379483328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112436913379483328' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112436913379483328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112436913379483328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-love-her.html' title='I love her'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112436889800771197</id><published>2005-08-18T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T05:41:38.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Untiring Love</title><content type='html'>This is a true story that happened in Japan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to renovate the house, someone in Japan&lt;br /&gt;tears open the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually Japanese houses have a hollow space&lt;br /&gt;between the wooden walls. When tearing down the&lt;br /&gt;walls, he found that there was a lizard stuck&lt;br /&gt;there because a nail from outside hammered into&lt;br /&gt;one of its feet. He sees this, feels pity, and at&lt;br /&gt;the same time curious, as when he checked the&lt;br /&gt;nail, it was nailed 10years ago when the house&lt;br /&gt;was first built.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lizard has survived in such position for 10&lt;br /&gt;years! In a dark wall partition for 10 years&lt;br /&gt;without moving, it is impossible and mind&lt;br /&gt;boggling.Then he wondered how this lizard&lt;br /&gt;survived for 10 years without moving a single&lt;br /&gt;step-since its foot was nailed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he stopped his work and observed the lizard,&lt;br /&gt;what it has been doing, and what and how it has&lt;br /&gt;been eating. Later, not knowing from where it&lt;br /&gt;came, appears another lizard, with food in its&lt;br /&gt;mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh! He was stunned and touched deeply. For the&lt;br /&gt;lizard that was stuck by nail, another lizard has&lt;br /&gt;been feeding it for the past 10 years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such love, such a beautiful love! Such love&lt;br /&gt;happened even with this tiny creature ... What&lt;br /&gt;can love do? It can do wonders! Love can do&lt;br /&gt;miracles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine? it has been doing that untiringly for 10&lt;br /&gt;long years, without giving up hope on its partner.&lt;br /&gt;Imagine what a small creature can do that a&lt;br /&gt;creature blessed with a brilliant mind can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was touched when I heard this story and started&lt;br /&gt;wondering about relationships between family&lt;br /&gt;members, friends, lovers, brothers, sisters. As&lt;br /&gt;information and communication technology&lt;br /&gt;advances, our access to information becomes&lt;br /&gt;faster and faster. But the distance between human&lt;br /&gt;beings . . . is it getting closer as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never abandon your loved ones....Treasure the one who loves you!&lt;br /&gt;It's not so easy to find a person who loves you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112436889800771197?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112436889800771197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112436889800771197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112436889800771197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112436889800771197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/08/untiring-love.html' title='Untiring Love'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112436854769219862</id><published>2005-08-18T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T05:35:47.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THINK</title><content type='html'>Before you think of saying an unkind word&lt;br /&gt;Think of someone who can't speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you complain about the taste of your food&lt;br /&gt;Think of someone who has nothing to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you complain about your husband or wife&lt;br /&gt;Think of someone who's crying out to God for a companion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today before you complain about life&lt;br /&gt;Think of someone who went too early to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you complain about your children&lt;br /&gt;Think of someone who desires children but they're barren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you argue about your dirty house; someone didn't clean or sweep&lt;br /&gt;Think of the people who are living in the streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before whining about the distance you drive&lt;br /&gt;Think of someone who walks the same distance with their feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you are tired and complain about your job&lt;br /&gt;Think of the unemployed, the disabled and those who wished they had your job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before you think of pointing the finger or condemning another&lt;br /&gt;Remember that not one of us are without sin and we all answer to one maker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when depressing thoughts seem to get you down&lt;br /&gt;Put a smile on your face and thank God you're alive and still around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a gift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrate it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And fulfill it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112436854769219862?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112436854769219862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112436854769219862' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112436854769219862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112436854769219862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/08/think.html' title='THINK'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112385507629826486</id><published>2005-08-12T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T06:57:56.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Side by side or miles apart, dear&lt;br /&gt;friends are always close to the heart.&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choose your friends by their character and your socks by their color.&lt;br /&gt;Choosing your socks by their character makes no sense,&lt;br /&gt;and choosing your friends by their color is unthinkable.&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly great friends are hard to find,&lt;br /&gt;difficult to leave, and impossible to forget&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend is someone who asks how you are&lt;br /&gt;and actually listens to your answer.&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The difficulty is not to die for a&lt;br /&gt;friend, but finding a friend worth dying for.&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend understands even when your&lt;br /&gt;thoughts aren't fitting into words.&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend is one who knows you and loves you just the same.&lt;br /&gt;- Hubbard, Elbert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best, beautiful qualities in a true friendship&lt;br /&gt;is to be understood and understand.&lt;br /&gt;- Seneca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True friendship is like sound health,&lt;br /&gt;the value of it is seldom known until it is lost.&lt;br /&gt;-Charles Caleb Colton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are only two people who can tell you the truth about yourself -&lt;br /&gt;an enemy who has lost his temper and a friend who loves you dearly.&lt;br /&gt;- Antisthenes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may forget with whom you laughed, but you'll never forget with whom you wept.&lt;br /&gt;- Arab proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me,&lt;br /&gt;I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;- Camus, Albert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend hears the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails&lt;br /&gt;-- Anonymous&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/14828796-112385507629826486?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112385507629826486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112385507629826486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112385507629826486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112385507629826486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/08/friendship-quotes.html' title='Friendship Quotes'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112385394355583519</id><published>2005-08-12T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T06:39:03.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Proverbs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Time and tide wait for no man.&lt;br /&gt;- English Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think much, speak little and write less.&lt;br /&gt;- Italian Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence is sometimes an answer.&lt;br /&gt;- Estonian Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speak the truth but leave immediately after.&lt;br /&gt;- Slovenian Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall seven times, stand up eight.&lt;br /&gt;- Japanese Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A smooth sea never made a skillful mariner.&lt;br /&gt;- English Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you go to buy, don't show your silver.&lt;br /&gt;- Chinese Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't give cherries to a pig; don't give advice to a fool.&lt;br /&gt;- Irish Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fear the goat from the front, the horse from the rear,&lt;br /&gt;and the man from all sides.&lt;br /&gt;- Russian Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write down the advice of him who loves you, though you like it not at present.&lt;br /&gt;- English Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not look where you fell, but where you slipped.&lt;br /&gt;- African Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have no money, be polite.&lt;br /&gt;- Danish Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know yourself, and your neighbor will not mistake you.&lt;br /&gt;- Scottish Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grasp no more than the hand will hold.&lt;br /&gt;- English Proverb &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112385394355583519?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112385394355583519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112385394355583519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112385394355583519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112385394355583519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/08/proverbs.html' title='Proverbs'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112255787678124957</id><published>2005-07-28T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T06:37:56.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LIVING WITH ROMANCE</title><content type='html'>One woman tells this story about her parents. She says that they had&lt;br /&gt;not been out together in quite some time. One Saturday, as her mother&lt;br /&gt;was finishing the dinner dishes, her father stepped up behind her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Would you like to go out, girl?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even turning around, her mother quickly replied, "Oh, yes, I'd&lt;br /&gt;love to!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had a wonderful evening, and it wasn't until the end of it that&lt;br /&gt;her dad confessed. His question had actually been directed to the&lt;br /&gt;family dog, lying near her mom's feet on the kitchen floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When should romance flicker and die from a caring relationship? When a&lt;br /&gt;couple decides to marry? Or after children are born? Or during the&lt;br /&gt;mature years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the attitude of one woman who believed her life should never be&lt;br /&gt;without romance. She found herself seated at a banquet next to a&lt;br /&gt;gentleman in his eighties -- about her age. She stared at him until&lt;br /&gt;she had his attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, she said, "Please forgive me for staring at you like this,&lt;br /&gt;but I can't help it. You see, you look exactly like my third husband!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," he responded. "How many times have you been married?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye, she patted his hand and&lt;br /&gt;answered, "Twice!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many find love, but some will also find romance -- and keep it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112255787678124957?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112255787678124957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112255787678124957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255787678124957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255787678124957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/living-with-romance.html' title='LIVING WITH ROMANCE'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112255714887662975</id><published>2005-07-28T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T06:25:48.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A True Story</title><content type='html'>A man came home from work late, tired and irritated,&lt;br /&gt;to find his 5- year old son waiting for him at the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, may I ask you a question?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah sure, what is it?" replied the man.&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, how much do you make an hour?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's none of your business. Why do you ask such&lt;br /&gt;a thing?" the man said angrily. '&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do&lt;br /&gt;you make an hour?"&lt;br /&gt;Pleaded the little boy. "If you must know, I make $20 an hour."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," the little boy replied, with his head down.&lt;br /&gt;Looking up, he said, "Daddy, may I please borrow&lt;br /&gt;$10?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father was furious, "If the only reason you&lt;br /&gt;asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy&lt;br /&gt;a silly toy or some other non sense, then&lt;br /&gt;you march yourself straight to your room and go to&lt;br /&gt;bed. Think about why you are being so selfish.&lt;br /&gt;I work hard everyday for such this childish behavior."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy quietly went to his room and&lt;br /&gt;shut the door. The man sat down and started to get&lt;br /&gt;even angrier about the little boy's questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How dare he ask such questions only to get some&lt;br /&gt;money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed&lt;br /&gt;down, and started to think:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May be there was something he really needed to buy with&lt;br /&gt;that $10 and he really didn't ask for money very often.&lt;br /&gt;The man went to the door of the little boy's room&lt;br /&gt;and opened the door.&lt;br /&gt;"Are you asleep, son?" He asked.&lt;br /&gt;"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.&lt;br /&gt;"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you&lt;br /&gt;earlier," said the man,&lt;br /&gt;"It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation&lt;br /&gt;on you. Here's the $10 you asked for."&lt;br /&gt;The little boy sat straight up, smiling. "Oh, thank&lt;br /&gt;you daddy!" He yelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some&lt;br /&gt;crumpled up bills.&lt;br /&gt;The man, seeing that the boy already had money,&lt;br /&gt;started to get angry again.&lt;br /&gt;The little boy slowly counted out his money, then&lt;br /&gt;looked up at his father.&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you want more money if you already have&lt;br /&gt;some?" the father grumbled.&lt;br /&gt;"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the&lt;br /&gt;little boy replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, I have $20 now. Can I buy an hour of your&lt;br /&gt;time?&lt;br /&gt;Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to&lt;br /&gt;have dinner with you."&lt;br /&gt;Share this story with someone you like....&lt;br /&gt;But even better, share $20 worth of time with someone you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just a short reminder to all of you working so&lt;br /&gt;hard in life. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We should not let time slip through our&lt;br /&gt;fingers without having spent sometime with those who&lt;br /&gt;really matter to us, those close to our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working&lt;br /&gt;for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But&lt;br /&gt;the family &amp;amp; friends we left behind will feel the loss&lt;br /&gt;for the rest of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into&lt;br /&gt;work than to our family ,an unwise investment indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;TRUE STORY of John Carmody a successful executive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112255714887662975?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112255714887662975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112255714887662975' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255714887662975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255714887662975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/true-story.html' title='A True Story'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112255678384077758</id><published>2005-07-28T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T06:19:43.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Love (A Touching story)</title><content type='html'>'How long will you be poring over that newspaper? Will you come here right away and make your darling daughter eat her food?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age. She has just turned eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are orthodox, and believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. "Sindu, darling, why don't you take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear And, if you don't, your Mom will shout at me'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could sense my wife's scowl behind my back. Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. 'OK, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Dad, if I eat this entire Curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Oh sure, darling'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Promise?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ask Mom also to give a similar promise', my daughter insisted. My wife slapped her hand on Sindu's, muttering 'Promise', without any emotion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindumma, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child eat something that she detested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All our attention was on her. 'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'a girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Never in our family!' my mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Sindumma, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No, Dad. I do not want anything else', Sindu said with finality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honour our promises no matter what?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Are you out your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honour her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big &amp;amp; beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued, 'That boy who is walking along with your&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from ... ... leukaemia.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She paused to muffle her sobs. 'Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your daughter.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood transfixed. And then, I wept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My little Angel, will you grant me a boon? Should there be another birth for me, will you be my mother, and teach me what Love is?'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112255678384077758?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112255678384077758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112255678384077758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255678384077758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255678384077758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/what-is-love-touching-story.html' title='What is Love (A Touching story)'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112255586391042436</id><published>2005-07-28T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T06:15:47.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MOUNTAIN STORY</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A son and his father were walking on the mountains.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, his son falls, hurts himself and screams: "AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"&lt;br /&gt;To his surprise, he hears the voice repeating, somewhere in the mountain:&lt;br /&gt;"AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curious, he yells: "Who are you?"&lt;br /&gt;He receives the answer: "Who are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angered at the response, he screams: "Coward!"&lt;br /&gt;He receives the answer: "Coward!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks to his father and asks: "What's going on?"&lt;br /&gt;The father smiles and says: "My son, pay attention."&lt;br /&gt;And then he screams to the mountain: "I admire you!"&lt;br /&gt;The voice answers: "I admire you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again the man screams: "You are a champion!"&lt;br /&gt;The voice answers: "You are a champion!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy is surprised, but does not understand.&lt;br /&gt;Then the father explains: "People call this ECHO, but really this is LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;It gives you back everything you say or do.&lt;br /&gt;Our life is simply a reflection of our actions.&lt;br /&gt;If you want more love in the world, create more love in your heart.&lt;br /&gt;If you want more competence in your team, improve your competence.&lt;br /&gt;This relationship applies to everything, in all aspects of life;&lt;br /&gt;Life will give you back everything you have given to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the moral to this story...&lt;br /&gt;YOUR LIFE IS NOT A COINCIDENCE. IT'S A REFLECTION OF YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/14828796-112255586391042436?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112255586391042436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112255586391042436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255586391042436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255586391042436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/mountain-story.html' title='THE MOUNTAIN STORY'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112255580982267522</id><published>2005-07-28T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T06:03:29.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sand and Stone (A Small story about two friends)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A story tells that two friends were walking&lt;br /&gt;through the desert. During some point of the&lt;br /&gt;journey they had an argument,and one friend&lt;br /&gt;slapped the other one in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one who got slapped was hurt, but without&lt;br /&gt;saying anything, wrote in the sand:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They kept on walking until they found an oasis,&lt;br /&gt;where they decided to take a bath. The one who&lt;br /&gt;had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started&lt;br /&gt;drowning, but the friend saved him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote&lt;br /&gt;on a stone:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friend w! ho had slapped and saved his best friend&lt;br /&gt;asked him,&lt;br /&gt;"After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and&lt;br /&gt;now, you write on a stone, why?"&lt;br /&gt;The other friend replied "When someone hurts us we&lt;br /&gt;should write it down in&lt;br /&gt;sand where! winds of forgiveness can erase it away.&lt;br /&gt;But, when someone does something good for us, we&lt;br /&gt;must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase&lt;br /&gt;it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND&lt;br /&gt;AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say it takes a minute to find a special person,&lt;br /&gt;an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to&lt;br /&gt;forget them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Do not value the things you have in your life.&lt;br /&gt;But value who you have in your life!&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/14828796-112255580982267522?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112255580982267522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112255580982267522' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255580982267522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255580982267522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/sand-and-stone-small-story-about-two.html' title='Sand and Stone (A Small story about two friends)'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112255563552535419</id><published>2005-07-28T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T06:17:01.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gift of Love (A true Love Story)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive&lt;br /&gt;young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps.&lt;br /&gt;She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the&lt;br /&gt;seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he'd told her was&lt;br /&gt;empty. Then she's settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and&lt;br /&gt;rested her cane against her leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been a year since Susan became blind. Due to a medical&lt;br /&gt;misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly&lt;br /&gt;thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-&lt;br /&gt;pity. 'How could this have happened to me?' she would plead, her&lt;br /&gt;heart knotted with anger. But no matter how much she cried or ranted&lt;br /&gt;or prayed, she knew the painful truth, her sight was never going to&lt;br /&gt;return. A cloud of depression hung over Susan's once optimistic!&lt;br /&gt;spirit. All she had to cling to was her husband Mark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all his heart.&lt;br /&gt;When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and&lt;br /&gt;was determined to help his wife gain the strength she needed to&lt;br /&gt;become independent again. Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her&lt;br /&gt;job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was&lt;br /&gt;now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark&lt;br /&gt;volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at&lt;br /&gt;opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan and&lt;br /&gt;fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so&lt;br /&gt;insecure about performing the slightest task. Soon, however Mark&lt;br /&gt;realized that this arrangement wasn't working - it was hectic, and&lt;br /&gt;costly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to&lt;br /&gt;himself. But just the thought of mentioning it to her made him&lt;br /&gt;cringe. She was still so fragile, so angry. How would she react? Just&lt;br /&gt;as Mark predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus&lt;br /&gt;again. "I'm blind!" she responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to&lt;br /&gt;know where I'm going? I feel like you're abandoning me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark's heart broke but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan&lt;br /&gt;that each day he would ride the bus with her until she got the hang&lt;br /&gt;of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark,&lt;br /&gt;military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each&lt;br /&gt;day. He taught her how to rely on her other senses to determine where&lt;br /&gt;she was and how to adapt to her new environment. He helped her&lt;br /&gt;befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a&lt;br /&gt;seat. Each morning they made the journey together, and Mark would&lt;br /&gt;take a cab back to his office&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this routine was even more costly and exhausting than the&lt;br /&gt;previous one, Mark knew it was only a matter of time before Susan&lt;br /&gt;would be able to ride the bus on her own. Finally, Susan decided that&lt;br /&gt;she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and&lt;br /&gt;before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus&lt;br /&gt;riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled&lt;br /&gt;with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, his love. She&lt;br /&gt;said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways.&lt;br /&gt;Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... each day on her own went&lt;br /&gt;perfectly, and Susan had never felt better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was&lt;br /&gt;paying for her fare to exit the bus, the driver said, "Boy, I sure&lt;br /&gt;envy you." Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or&lt;br /&gt;not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had&lt;br /&gt;struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? "Why do&lt;br /&gt;you envy me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driver responded, "It must feel so good to be taken care of and&lt;br /&gt;protected like you are." Susan had no idea what the driver was&lt;br /&gt;talking about, "What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driver said, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine&lt;br /&gt;looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the&lt;br /&gt;corner watching you when you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross&lt;br /&gt;the street safely and he watches you until you enter your office&lt;br /&gt;building. Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and&lt;br /&gt;walks away. You are one lucky lady."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she&lt;br /&gt;couldn't see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was&lt;br /&gt;blessed, so blessed, for he had given her a gift more powerful than&lt;br /&gt;sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe - the gift of love&lt;br /&gt;that can bring light where there had been darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112255563552535419?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112255563552535419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112255563552535419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255563552535419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255563552535419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/gift-of-love-true-love-story.html' title='The Gift of Love (A true Love Story)'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112255538719203846</id><published>2005-07-28T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T05:56:27.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STUPID QUESTIONS WITH THE SMART ANSWERS:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOY : May I hold your hand? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GIRL : No thanks, it isn't heavy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GIRL : Say you love me! Say you love me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOY : You love me... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GIRL : If we become engaged will you give me a ring?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOY : Sure, what's your phone number?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GIRL : I think the poorest people are the happiest. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOY : Then marry me and we'll be the happiest couple &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GIRL : Darling, I want to dance like this forever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOY : Don't you ever want to improve?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOY : I love you and I could die for you! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GIRL : How soon?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOY : I would go to the end of the world for you! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GIRL : Yes, but would you stay there?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SHARON : Have you ever had a hot passionate, burning kiss?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;TRACY : I did once. He'd forgotten to take the cigarette out of his mouth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MAN : You remind me of the sea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WOMAN : Because I'm wild, romantic and exciting? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MAN : NO, because you make me sick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WIFE : You tell a man something, it goes in one ear and comes out of the other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HUSBAND : You tell a woman something: It goes in both ears and comes out of the mouth. MARY : John says I'm pretty. Andy says I'm ugly.What do u think, Peter? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;PETER : A bit of both. I think you're pretty ugly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Girlfriend : "...And are you sure you love me and no one else ?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Boyfriend : "Dead Sure! I checked the whole list again yesterday". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2) Teacher : "Which is more important to us, the sun or the moon?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pupil : "The moon". Teacher : "Why?" Pupil : "The moon gives us light at night when we need it but the sun gives us light only in the day time when we don't need it". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3) Teacher : "What do you call a person who keeps on talking when people are no longer interested?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pupil : "A teacher". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4) Waiter : "Would you like your coffee black?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Customer : "What other colors do you have?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5) My father is so old that when he was in school, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;history was called current affairs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;6) Teacher : "Sam, you talk a lot !" Sam : "It's a family tradition". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Teacher : "What do you mean?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sam : "Sir, my grandpa was a street hawker, my father is a teacher". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Teacher : "What about your mother?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sam : "She's a woman". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7) Tom : "How should I convey the news to my father that I've failed?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;David: "You just send a telegram: Result declared, past year's performance repeated". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;8) Teacher : "Now, children, if I saw a man beating a donkey and stopped him, what virtue would I be showing?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Student : "Brotherly love". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;9) Teacher : "Now, Sam, tell me frankly do you say prayers before eating?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sam : "No sir, I don't have to, my mom is a good cook". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;10) Patient : "What are the chances of my recovering doctor?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Doctor : "One hundred percent. Medical records show that nine out of ten people die of the disease you have. Yours is the tenth case I've treated. The others all died". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;11) Teacher : " Can anybody give an example of COINCIDENCE?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One Student : "Sir, my Mother and Father got married on the same day and at the same time." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;12) Teacher : " George Washington not only chopped down his father's Cherry tree, but also admitted doing it. Now do you know why his father didn't punish him ?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One Student: " Because George still had&lt;/span&gt; the axe in is hand."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112255538719203846?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112255538719203846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112255538719203846' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255538719203846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112255538719203846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/stupid-questions-with-smart-answers.html' title='STUPID QUESTIONS WITH THE SMART ANSWERS:'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112245121415632067</id><published>2005-07-27T00:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T01:00:14.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How expressive you are at words</title><content type='html'>Do our zodiac signs influence how expressive we are when it comes to letter and e-mails?   Looks like it, going by the stereotypical styles of each sign and their letters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Aries:&lt;/span&gt; Even if they write mails that contain earth-shattering content, they will break it coolly and with a very run-of-the-mill ‘Hi’ in the subject matter. Expect courteous yet very terse mails from Arians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Taurus:&lt;/span&gt; These folks have two styles. Either they go the whole hog and pour their hearts out or hardsell themselves, as the case maybe. Or they simply desist from writing the mail if they don’t feel like it. It’s best to expect these extremes from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gemini:&lt;/span&gt; For them, an e-mail is an e-mail is an e-mail. What can one say in an impersonal e-mail is their favourite refrain. However, should their mail be crucial for the communication, they will take all pains to communicate the same. Their mails are very professionally written and serve the purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cancer:&lt;/span&gt; Cancerians drip honey and syrup, no matter what the core of the content is. They believe in using the sweetest of vocabulary to get their point across. Expect a deluge of words such as ‘request, kindly, solicit etc words in their mails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Leo:&lt;/span&gt; Even if it’s a one-liner in the mail, there are the stuff that you should store in your ‘do not delete’ folder of your mailbox. They display the same wit, charm and sense of humour even in their mails. Even their official mails never go without the familiar Leo spunky touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Virgo:&lt;/span&gt; Virgos rarely write without reason. Naturally, their mails are usually ‘reply’ mails and neatly list out all the information they want.’ They are good at convincing others and it’s a good idea to get them to write mails where one has to express ones inability or give excuses for not wrapping up a task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Libra:&lt;/span&gt; Terse is synonymous with their mails. They completely dispense with formalities. Don’t be surprised if their mails just have monosyllables in it. But the best bit is that they do manage to convey the information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Scorpio:&lt;/span&gt; These folks often write mails like there are filling in for a classified ad, where every word attracts some money. So each word in their mail is used after a lot of care. No word that is redundant or expresses an irrelevant idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sagittarius:&lt;/span&gt; To get them write mails is a big achievement in itself. They are so off mails that the ones they write are usually to inform that the will call up or that they will stop writing mails. A lazy forward from a Sagit is more like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Capricorn:&lt;/span&gt; If you can catch a Capri in the right mood, you’ve hit the bull’s eye. They are masters of letter writing and are capable of writing the most delightful mails among all the signs. Keep them your e-mail friends and they’ll make your mailbox richer with their interesting mails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Aquarius:&lt;/span&gt; They’re never too excited about being heard. So writing a mail does demand a valid reason from them. They usually write very official sounding mails and never bother to add even a single personal line, even if it’s their buddy they’re writing in to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pisces:&lt;/span&gt; Pisceans take to extremes. Either they write nice, interesting long mails or simply write terse ones and getaway. But if you’re lucky to catch them in the right frame of mind, there are going to make e-mailing a pleasure for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112245121415632067?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112245121415632067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112245121415632067' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112245121415632067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112245121415632067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/how-expressive-you-are-at-words.html' title='How expressive you are at words'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112238745283426945</id><published>2005-07-26T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T07:27:51.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight Gifts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eight Gifts that Do Not Cost A Cent:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;THE GIFT OF LISTENING&lt;/span&gt; . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; .&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But you must REALLY listen. No interrupting, no daydreaming, no planning your response. Just listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;THE GIFT OF AFFECTION . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Be generous with appropriate hugs, kisses, pats on the back and handholds. Let these small actions demonstrate the love you have for family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE GIFT OF LAUGHTER . .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; .&lt;/span&gt;Clip cartoons. Share articles and funny stories. Your gift will say, "I love to laugh with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;THE GIFT OF A WRITTEN NOTE . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; .&lt;/span&gt;It can be a simple "Thanks for the help" note or a full sonnet. A brief, handwritten note may be remembered for a lifetime, and may even change a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE GIFT OF A COMPLIMENT . &lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; .A simple and sincere, "You look great in red," "You did a super job" or "That was a wonderful meal" can make someone's day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) &lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE GIFT OF A FAVOR . .&lt;/strong&gt; .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Every day, go out of your way to do something kind.7) THE GIFT OF SOLITUDE . . .There are times when we want nothing better than to be left alone. Be sensitive to those times and give the gift of solitude to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE GIFT OF A CHEERFUL DISPOSITION . . .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The easiest way to feel good is to extend a kind word to someone, really it's not that hard to say, Hello or Thank You. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112238745283426945?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112238745283426945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112238745283426945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112238745283426945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112238745283426945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/eight-gifts.html' title='Eight Gifts'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112238712856652835</id><published>2005-07-26T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T07:12:08.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marketing Tactics</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say, "I am very rich. Marry me!"     That's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Direct Marketing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're at a party with a bunch of friends and see a gorgeous girl. One of your friends goes up to her and pointing at you says, "He's very rich. Marry him." That's&lt;strong&gt; Advertising&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see a gorgeous girl at a party.You go up to her and get her telephone number. The next day you call and say "Hi, I'm very rich. Marry me." That's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Telemarketing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're at a party and see a gorgeous girl. You get up and straighten your tie, you walk up to her and pour her a drink.  You open the door for her, pick up her bag after she drops it, offer her a ride, and then say, "By the way, I'm very rich. Will you marry me?" That's &lt;strong&gt;Public Relations&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're at a party and see a gorgeous girl. She walks up to you and says, "You are very rich…" That's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Brand Recognition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say, "I'm rich. Marry me" She gives you a nice hard slap on your face. That's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Customer Feedback !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say, "I am very rich. Marry me!" And she introduces you to her husband.That's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Demand and supply gap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and before you say, "I am very rich. Marry me!" she turns her face towards you……she is your wife!!!                                                               That's &lt;strong&gt;competition eating into your market share.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112238712856652835?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112238712856652835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112238712856652835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112238712856652835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112238712856652835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/marketing-tactics.html' title='Marketing Tactics'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14828796.post-112238315472619549</id><published>2005-07-26T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T06:09:50.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do for each person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;When someone is in your life for a &lt;strong&gt;REASON . . .&lt;/strong&gt; It is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically,emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend, and they are! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;They are there for the reason you need them to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Then, without any wrong doing on your part, or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realise is that our need has been met, ourdesire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered. And now it is time to move on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;When people come into your life for a &lt;strong&gt;SEASON &lt;/strong&gt;. . .Because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn.They bring you an experience of peace, or make you laugh.They may teach you something you have never done.They usually give you an unbelievable amountof joy. Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LIFETIME&lt;/strong&gt; relationships teach you lifetime lessons; things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love theperson, and put what you have learned to use in allother relationships and areas of your life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Thats why It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14828796-112238315472619549?l=friendschoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/feeds/112238315472619549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14828796&amp;postID=112238315472619549' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112238315472619549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14828796/posts/default/112238315472619549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendschoice.blogspot.com/2005/07/reason-season-or-lifetime.html' title='A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime'/><author><name>personal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07366012732573910745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
