tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-382702142024-02-19T08:33:49.523+03:30My Little WorldAzinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.comBlogger143125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-54738057582172989332013-11-17T11:11:00.001+03:302013-11-17T15:28:25.952+03:30I'm not 33, I'm 18 with 15 years experience!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yQnlIS9a-bLJiOc_BRzOr-l_ggK70Zf8uMHY_La6QRuNU2owsOI0HE5Pt8lWBziva3xpdlXzMNuy0X1kdjBXLIMJ-cNlnXF-RDQ2-PwRDPq4CaFeDEyEwquv1ecogVbizZ6arQ/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yQnlIS9a-bLJiOc_BRzOr-l_ggK70Zf8uMHY_La6QRuNU2owsOI0HE5Pt8lWBziva3xpdlXzMNuy0X1kdjBXLIMJ-cNlnXF-RDQ2-PwRDPq4CaFeDEyEwquv1ecogVbizZ6arQ/s320/images.jpeg" width="222" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" dir="RTL" style="text-align: left;">
<span dir="LTR">So
it all started when one of my favorite 1<sup>st</sup> graders told me he
wished
I was his mom! Now what annoys me is that we've got plenty of young and
beautiful staffs whom our students have been desiring and lining up to
marry
them. And now me to be a mom, instead of the hot stuff to marry?? (I
know, I know.. As the principal I should feel relief that I'm not
regarded as sex object, but the feeling still hurts!) </span></div>
<span dir="LTR">I
always used to be among the youngests while working, but now excluding some of
the teachers that are quite agey, I'm the oldest and you've got it right, I hate it!</span><br />
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" dir="RTL" style="text-align: left;">
<span dir="LTR"> And that’s when the
irresistible happened; my desire to lie about my age.</span></div>
</div>
Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-79324364390978719372013-10-27T10:32:00.000+03:302013-10-27T10:32:07.455+03:30 A woman has two smiles that an angel might envy, the smile that accepts a lover before words are uttered, and the smile that lights on the first born babe, and assures it of a mother’s love. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" dir="RTL" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span dir="LTR">Is
it possible that god might forget to give some of us things that normally
should be in us? I mean seriously, let's think about it: desire for beauty,
biological clock, mothers' unconditional love, etc, etc. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal" dir="RTL" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span dir="LTR">These
are all the must have apps in a human system.. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" dir="RTL" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span dir="LTR">Now what worries me is that
while I was waiting patiently in line for wisdom while god was making us,
there's a slight chance I might have been left alone and someone else, most
probably my sister, got my share of mother love everyone talks about. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" dir="RTL" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span dir="LTR">I mean
don't get me wrong.. Dealing with kids is something beyond amazing.. You should
work with them to know what I mean..</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal" dir="RTL" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span dir="LTR"></span><span dir="LTR"><span dir="LTR"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>But having
them all the time for myself, not only is not appealing at all, it hurts every
inch of my heart. I don't know why they say a woman is blossoming while
pregnant; life is tough enough without having someone kick you from the inside.
When I see a friend pregnant I do all I can to congratulate them instead of
holding them tight and let them know it's gonna be alright and how sorry I am
for them. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Then one of my sisters, the suspected mother love
thief of mine, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>has started freaking me
out reminding me I don't know what I'm missing without a child.. Now I'm just not sure if it is OK to
tell her what she is missing that has a child! Should I remind her of my free
mind and spirit and soul that all I need to worry about is if my husband's
gonna lose weight for our next vacation including sea, sun and sex or should I
let it be?</span></span></div>
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Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-85697066959701309052010-08-03T01:06:00.009+04:302010-08-03T12:27:38.006+04:30The Key to Being a Good Manager is Keeping the People who Hate You Away from Those Who are Still Undecided!!<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500924117642849922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bHXX0xIH8fply9KReHBmY6v2UiHEic24KV5PRe9ynMUW_K4Y-B7qL-WM0c3sjf8Kv8r7VT7H3hfjt51l89b1V_sLF07Z0I4vAPlhcdnDnO6h2-NlXX8zYn7Gn9jsvDRLd69CTA/s400/angry.jpg" />It's really hard for me to be a manager.. My biggest wish is to be loved by everyone.. And by everyone, I mean <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">eveeeryyone</span> even those I hate by heart!! And that's when my problem starts.. When I was an employee I hated all my bosses except for one. They all were mean people who expected us to work our butts off to do the task well..<br />So now as being a manager myself, knowing exactly how others think of me, I have to be hard but nice, tough but kind, leader but team worker, stick to the rules but being understandable, etc etc. The truth is that in reality you can never be like that.. After a while you realize basically no one really listens to you.. So what I did was to let my husband lead the whole team and I be the friendly partner who everyone enjoys her company.. My plan was going pretty well till we decided to expand our school and open up the new branch.. Now I'm all by myself in this branch, and I have to be the bitch who everyone hates, that bastard that doesn't even look at the resumes, or simply don't hire that poor girl just <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">cuz</span> she's got no experience, the ruthless freak who fires those who get frequently sick!<br />So I'm just writing this to apologize to all my ex bosses I called bastard, bitch or pig and beg my employees to be a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">lil</span> more sympathetic and understand my situation that beside fun times we need to work hard to turn those devils call children into little angels and proudly hand them over to the world!<br />I really hope this writing helps, if not who cares.. only those who really love me get paid!Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-15845252637885239552009-04-04T16:37:00.010+04:302011-06-18T18:14:59.685+04:30For It Was Not into My Ear You Whispered, But into My Heart. It Was Not My Lips You Kissed, But My Soul!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsqqRxL-4dqs3586-hkNDLJfKmQ92NE22s9JuPYNO3XXQFIhyphenhyphenM4v0n0T7LwUiWWkSIZ1bTmcWHefnIOWtuTU3VtFNPUiykW2S0uxyW6unV12viFFRACbef5dAIaqhoUxsqs4aJw/s1600-h/IMG_1506.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321449052692060818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsqqRxL-4dqs3586-hkNDLJfKmQ92NE22s9JuPYNO3XXQFIhyphenhyphenM4v0n0T7LwUiWWkSIZ1bTmcWHefnIOWtuTU3VtFNPUiykW2S0uxyW6unV12viFFRACbef5dAIaqhoUxsqs4aJw/s400/IMG_1506.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" class="sqq"><span style="color:#ffffff;">I didn't say "Yes" cuz I love you, I said yes cuz I need you, not for my existence but for my happiness..<br />I said yes because of the new person you're making out of me, because of</span> <span style="color:#ffffff;">connecting my little world to the biggest world of love and be loved and because of making my heart smile with glow constantly.<br />And although even the thought of it scares me to death when I think of the</span> <span style="color:#ffffff;">tough times we might be facing, I still said yes cuz I knew if I don't </span></span></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0);" ><span style="color:#ffffff;">I'll regret it for the rest of my life, because I know, in my heart, you're the only one for me</span>.</span>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-43893817163812278322009-03-17T13:10:00.003+03:302009-04-06T14:54:38.941+04:30I Think the Killers Get Far Too Much Attention!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUTpxQFQ2byd_eMLN0z1PD0gAXjMhw36CqaaJc5gjuDrS795I8oJ2AJ_Sw_D37-WjM-LC_61LXlAUMgMG06FRcISzhXwPs_3YXhD84bE-Hznk725dVkZEMFXzrEIzP4k1Wa0tqQ/s1600-h/kill.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUTpxQFQ2byd_eMLN0z1PD0gAXjMhw36CqaaJc5gjuDrS795I8oJ2AJ_Sw_D37-WjM-LC_61LXlAUMgMG06FRcISzhXwPs_3YXhD84bE-Hznk725dVkZEMFXzrEIzP4k1Wa0tqQ/s400/kill.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321521253739289842" border="0" /></a><br />My family’s setting up a be-careful-everyone-around-you-is-a-psycho club and my boyfriend as the most eligible potential member for this watch-out union has been accepted by them. According to research from a criminologist, serial killers form 17% of the world’s population and to this club either the percentage has risen up to 97% or they truly believe this 17%’s main goal is to hunt me down, rape me and kill me!<br />I’m serious: For every single job interview I’ve had, they made sure I’m not going anywhere without the full knowledge of all these evil gangs that sell girls to Dubaian sheikhs or rape them and video tape them or steal from them etc. etc.<br />When I had to go to Italy by myself for work a couple of weeks ago, while my boyfriend, the VP of the club, asked for almost 1238763980 times if the factories I’m going to make a visit are trustworthy people, my mom made sure to make a quick research and just to her luck my sister had recently watched this movie that very bad things had happened to this girl who was travelling alone. The result? I didn’t make any contact with anyone there, spent all my money on shopping, arrived home totally broke but 100% safe!Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-35623659908689458372009-03-08T15:43:00.004+03:302009-03-08T16:09:45.851+03:30<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmF0sArxYEIHjmcazDh7jqM4s7iF8W5uGt5tpaIpAuwydqO7z4ZqZ8i8lxBNcej76uLzhAcqnFkgi4WJ-nR_kMgVVDYo4y8VIq6N5rFQiXicrgCg5lE7RlznDMypNZzAozuTpf8A/s1600-h/ist2_225321-a-silhouette-of-a-woman-03.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310795599424534098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 380px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmF0sArxYEIHjmcazDh7jqM4s7iF8W5uGt5tpaIpAuwydqO7z4ZqZ8i8lxBNcej76uLzhAcqnFkgi4WJ-nR_kMgVVDYo4y8VIq6N5rFQiXicrgCg5lE7RlznDMypNZzAozuTpf8A/s400/ist2_225321-a-silhouette-of-a-woman-03.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;">اگه دختر به دنیا بیای خیلی چیزا رو باید یاد بگیری! اول از همه باید خیلی بجنگی تا بتونی بگی اگه خدایی وجود داشته باشه میشه مثِ یه پیرزنِ مو سفید یا یه دخترِ قشنگ نقاشیش کرد! خیلی باید بجنگی تا بتونی بگی وقتی حوا سیب ممنوعه رو چید گناه به وجود نیومد، اون روز یه قدرت باشکوه متولد شد که بهِش نافرمانی میگن</span></div><br /><div align="right"></div></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-46515467445932144682009-03-01T11:20:00.003+03:302009-03-01T11:25:09.139+03:30You Can't Teach People to be Lazy - Either They Have It, or They Don't.”<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEvXnnnuarua4D9av5ktFqXjOBNSXLdV3I4fpY9zEkFjYJzv81OMGuXPNQ15Vs2yYxwRtCNQJ4IjvmnNioahrm0xTEWZFwoLq11w4A-_pjzOEkjaHe92rEhmFga2v4mTGUQ1bOw/s1600-h/lazy-cat5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308124170798545938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEvXnnnuarua4D9av5ktFqXjOBNSXLdV3I4fpY9zEkFjYJzv81OMGuXPNQ15Vs2yYxwRtCNQJ4IjvmnNioahrm0xTEWZFwoLq11w4A-_pjzOEkjaHe92rEhmFga2v4mTGUQ1bOw/s400/lazy-cat5.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I've bought a treadmill.. In this country you don't need to move at all to get your job done.. Everything can be done by a simple phone call.. To convenience store to send you ice-cream and yogurt, to the manicurist/pedicurist to stop by your place and do your nails and hair! To this lady who brings you fried onion, vegetables, everything so you just mix them for dinner.. And we always wonder why non-Persians call us lazy! That's how we're brought up dude! I'm not gonna lie to you guys.. I loveeee it.. </div><div>But it made me a bit concerned when my brother warned me if I go on like this my ass would get the shape of the bed!! </div><div>That's why I bout a treadmill.. Now my family members enjoy the scene of an almost dead girl, sweating and running on this monster just cuz in less than a month I'm going to Bali and I need my confidence back! </div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-91850505400670177952009-02-28T16:43:00.010+03:302009-03-01T11:18:31.474+03:30Hard Work Never Killed Anybody, But Why Take a Chance?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-r6uVCOXSu8omDzudzJtDaK_ORp5W6Z6OMVSxRuRrEMiFQICvDhGpjTcyrA9BFXLl-wYH5JRjDp7hKxl0BTszWKzCWF8HwwFSWUIsFjasHcyA7xaF2sGRmRhkFolKv5_0Ut1QA/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308118570177883746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-r6uVCOXSu8omDzudzJtDaK_ORp5W6Z6OMVSxRuRrEMiFQICvDhGpjTcyrA9BFXLl-wYH5JRjDp7hKxl0BTszWKzCWF8HwwFSWUIsFjasHcyA7xaF2sGRmRhkFolKv5_0Ut1QA/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>When I saw the latest opening at UNICEF, I was sure it's not just the name and the prestige that comes with it that I so wanna get a job there... Look at the job title: "Child protection something program.." </div><div>Maybe by working for children I realize I've always had this hidden love for kids somewhere deep down that I was totally unaware of.. How did you think Angelina Jolie ended up with so many children? The movie "Beyond Borders" changed her life forever.. Who knows maybe same thing happens to me and if not at least I can explain why I'll never have a kiddo...</div><div>But I can't lie to you.. It's not just those children that motivate me to apply for the job.. All those traveling it involves!! </div><div>Years ago I made an unspoken, unwritten contract with my dad.. Some people invest, some work.. I decided to do the job of traveling and he pays for that.. But when for some unspoken, unwritten reasons from my dad it got to an end, I thought it's time to find a more reliable employer!!</div><div>Anyways I decided to fill out their form to apply for the job but last part's kinda tricky.. They want me to write them in less than 1 page about my motivation to apply for this job and it's relevance to my qualifications.. </div><div>Now just imagine when I write:</div><div>"Dear UNICEF HR Manager,</div><div>Since years ago I've had this blind hatred towards kids.. And I think by working for those little angels I will start liking them and maybe in future I be able to have 1 or more of mine!</div><div>Moreover I feel like travelling.</div><div>To sum up I'm your perfect candidate and looking forward to have an interview with you!"</div><div>I'm pretty sure the chances of renewing the contract with my dad is way higher than getting a job with them!</div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-74581486757458238402009-02-28T10:50:00.009+03:302009-03-01T09:19:55.217+03:30I change, I survive<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNPBF1CC0hyphenhyphenbhMAEEzu3pxXC7x-KfBljxbcPpPKjDsVjwA3716kbbfyACD4xsqfPb-5FSMTDGO_IFCYxWW27vF0gWPRuvoyZJuBOcTh6WOkUtnWdifhJF0n5-5i9QDNw2zVsOww/s1600-h/wanting_change.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307790194182802850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 345px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNPBF1CC0hyphenhyphenbhMAEEzu3pxXC7x-KfBljxbcPpPKjDsVjwA3716kbbfyACD4xsqfPb-5FSMTDGO_IFCYxWW27vF0gWPRuvoyZJuBOcTh6WOkUtnWdifhJF0n5-5i9QDNw2zVsOww/s400/wanting_change.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The whole idea of this never-ending process of "in-search-of-me" plan, which made me move back home, start a new life, find new friends, get a new job etc. etc., was to help myself find out what I wanna do with my life.. The name's on it: "never-ending" so don't even think in couple of months I'm even close to announcing proudly how I know what I want! But for sure I know what I don't wanna be.. mmmm I'm not sure when you're not capable of doing something the word "want" finds a meaning tho.. So let's just say I know what I can't be!<br />I can never be a snowboarder! I mean the thrill, the challenge, the splash of snow, none of them can help me to overcome the fear of falling down by will of "Mean Gods" and the high possibility of breaking my butt..<br />But skiing is nothing when it comes to driving in Iran... I feel like I know as much about driving in here as straight people do about gays. I think stopping at stop signs or red lights, proper usage of left or right signals, respecting pedestrians and other drivers would save me from car accidents and straight people think that being gay is just a phase. A very long phase!<br />And we still haven't got to the biggest joke, which is working here.. I don't think I can ever work here.. When I got this new job I didn't bother to ask anything about the job responsibilities or any kind of other irrelevant questions, just because of the very generous salary they offered me..<br />In less than 2 months my dreamy workplace turned into slavery company and finally to "Are-You-Out-of-Your-Mind-Get-Out-Before-You-Lose-Your-Mind"!<br />Don't blame my moody character for leaving this job:<br />I share my "windowless" office with 2 other people including my manager and this other girl.. You don't need to have an imaginary mind to picture the scenario to understand how impossible it gets to breathe after spending 2-3 hours in here.<br />Since the room is too small nothing fits in here but a medium size table, where we put our PCs on.. That's why whenever I turn around, with no doubt I'd have a physical contact with one of the colleges..<br />Ask about "lunch break" and "lunch room" and throw them to the world of unknowns!<br />Say something about contract, you know the famous paper we all sign before starting a new job?, and get the impression like you're speaking Chinese.<br />Prioritizing tasks to them is like watching a stupid movie: time consuming and useless!<br />I'm telling ya, don't blame my moodiness for finishing it by end of this month!<br />All been said, I still have my reasons for staying in Iran.. Till when? Until my heart tells me it's time to go..Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-67873469273959792522008-10-27T16:16:00.000+03:302008-11-18T00:44:19.334+03:30It Seems so Gloomy Out There, But It Shines Inside My Heart! It's Sometimes Completely Vis-a-Versa, Though!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xaXIfpkHEueBm9G5518U_1CGb-7b5Ib_1h3SJfJIoEIGqKqUvP3Q0koBZU7Xg-d_71v7bwyngkJMj8Kd4t7klCV3rSK2cpUFom2TLl1eykcugUXipfXQlAGD5zrZaeqPJ5NrHQ/s1600-h/dancing+leaves.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235476581511142114" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xaXIfpkHEueBm9G5518U_1CGb-7b5Ib_1h3SJfJIoEIGqKqUvP3Q0koBZU7Xg-d_71v7bwyngkJMj8Kd4t7klCV3rSK2cpUFom2TLl1eykcugUXipfXQlAGD5zrZaeqPJ5NrHQ/s400/dancing+leaves.jpg" border="0" /></a> A friend of mine while in Amsterdam, was staring at a tree when noticed the leaves changed into tiny ladies who are dancing and flirting with him and just to his surprise they would get offended if he stops looking at them.. So he spent his whole afternoon smiling at a tree and making sure lady leaves won't get upset with him!<br />I don't care what drug he was on, I wanna see leaves dance for me too.. You go to the store and very politely ask for a making-leaves-dance drug.. The whole point is to have a relax, thinking-free afternoon..<br />I think too much about things I don't wanna think about.. The sad part is that a part of me enjoys the suffer perhaps to support it that human being has been divided into two categories of Cruel Sadist and Heartbroken Masochist!Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-18150796063444586122008-10-19T20:09:00.000+03:302008-12-09T22:03:23.232+03:30Ambition is a poor excuse for not having sense enough to be lazy!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0t5gqMbRdNckh9qACjUOVlhBF8o9tvaJsHNphArVwHYGNop-s4ius0U_GVNqv1ZRGBzC7O8DV9nR2NHqAPIa9JPRPFqgsQWmowwQHcFGF_amFaBPsSMrIt29QLKoaB7lmX9jyA/s1600-h/Lazy+ass+Dog.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026252859469229986" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0t5gqMbRdNckh9qACjUOVlhBF8o9tvaJsHNphArVwHYGNop-s4ius0U_GVNqv1ZRGBzC7O8DV9nR2NHqAPIa9JPRPFqgsQWmowwQHcFGF_amFaBPsSMrIt29QLKoaB7lmX9jyA/s400/Lazy+ass+Dog.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Have you ever thought of having a job with good money, lots of respect from others and not needing to do a lot for it?<br />I’d been thinking about it a lot and that’s why I’ve decided to become a PHILOSOPHER!!!<br />These people have the life that I idealize..<br />Just imagine you wake up in the morning, have your coffee ready, sit on the balcony, stare at horizon and when others ask you what you are doing, you give them one of those “can’t you see” looks and reply: “I’m working!!!”<br />Isn’t that fantastic??? We are in the 21st century and all everyone’s thinking about is working, working and more working..<br />And then there are these happy people that “think” they’re actually doing something.. And just imagine what a great feeling it is that you’re doing nothing and you don’t feel guilty about it!!!!I’m loving it!<br />It’s official! I’ll be a philosopher..<br />So those of you who keep asking me “did you get a job?” (Seriously can’t you think of something else to talk about??!! And yes I’m talking to you my dear “strong commenter”!!!!!!) anyways you’re answer is I am a self employed, well respected lady.. Soooo leave me alone and have a beautiful sunny day;)Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-15343733331763491812008-07-18T23:12:00.002+04:302008-12-09T22:03:23.505+03:30و او که سبز بود .... سبز زیست .... سبز رفت ، تا سبز باشد جاودانه<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vx7Wp1fU2TNZHQDt6uThyphenhyphenno8JivDCeatjOV-6JQ0pHA2jqdyVgVT6msCXsBJsg0RUkTuWKS_Lf7C8Xl0TwtTjMVUAdnn5r9mlRpwCkejK9nQoS2Z6424IrxGqc7bmxpFuCfviw/s1600-h/khosro%2520shakibaei.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224426659255646082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vx7Wp1fU2TNZHQDt6uThyphenhyphenno8JivDCeatjOV-6JQ0pHA2jqdyVgVT6msCXsBJsg0RUkTuWKS_Lf7C8Xl0TwtTjMVUAdnn5r9mlRpwCkejK9nQoS2Z6424IrxGqc7bmxpFuCfviw/s400/khosro%2520shakibaei.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-50595569830885594422008-07-14T00:09:00.000+04:302008-12-09T22:03:23.755+03:30بودن من سخت نیست...من از بیهوده بودن سخت دلگیرم<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZ5OgFffzhfQ5LMbRyaGamlCYGHgY0ndwkIwqawEw7yqwi1DSYATUyjhjohIiNE3mg4SIiUC4Yd578GFxX-96UGfzoS4oAXnT9qe0rCSSY9H6DUV8YB_7jrqAlD4VE6-l8haxOw/s1600-h/day-dream.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080472206213258450" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZ5OgFffzhfQ5LMbRyaGamlCYGHgY0ndwkIwqawEw7yqwi1DSYATUyjhjohIiNE3mg4SIiUC4Yd578GFxX-96UGfzoS4oAXnT9qe0rCSSY9H6DUV8YB_7jrqAlD4VE6-l8haxOw/s400/day-dream.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It's weird.. Since I was a kid I was sure I would do something really important in this world! Something to make people around me really proud of having me! The only problem was that I didn't know what I would do and what would make me a famous lady.. </div><div>I started from being an expert surgeon.. Saving people's lives.. Being people's hope.. Sounded nice.. But that's when I was too young to know the requirement was to pass biology and the other thing I didn't know was how much I hate this course! So not very proudly I passed on being any kind of a doctor, geneticist or whatsoever that was related to this stupid course!</div><div>After that I wanted to become a famous painter. Someone who's drawings would get her to top of the world.. The paintings that would touch people's hearts.. On that era I wasn't familiar with the term "Talent".. It was a time when I used to think you can do it if you really want to! That's when I started understanding the world and how you can't have everything you wish for! (Thanks to all the forward e-mails now I know I should be thankful god didn't give me all the things I wished for tho!)</div><div>Becoming a famous pianist and introducing the whole world to my topnotch music master pieces sounded like the final answer to all my prayers.. Musics that would make it easy for people to fall in love.. To forget their problems and just relax.. The only problem was that the whole passion for music faded away in 6 months!!!!</div><div>Anyways the list goes on and on.. </div><div>Seasons changed, years came one by one, I grew up.. The only thing that's still the same is that I don't know what's that important thing that I'm gonna do to have my name somewhere in the history!</div><div>I'm telling you I do have the feeling.. I've had it since years ago.. So don't doubt my famousy thingy!!! Just wait and see..</div><div>I just hope.. I pray deep down that I don't end up being famous while I'm stuck in fire, drawn in the wild, stormy sea, or am knocked up by a car because I'm trying to save someone else's life!<br /></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-16246695414692077002008-07-12T05:55:00.003+04:302008-12-09T22:03:24.080+03:30Typical Persian Girls<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQQI5ickawPGNrb8WctfIVQQ_qFfl1kiyWuMUmYyX8p-T0zqqs1Psnyj3nX70_7__OXXV76eIDb9kGpXEKo8zb8VU2ZrSGhs1PwJsVg1UnsU3XFxedoG1iCjcTdQk2tBuw2_qFQ/s1600-h/n511345505_3443390_9086.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220838298222533234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQQI5ickawPGNrb8WctfIVQQ_qFfl1kiyWuMUmYyX8p-T0zqqs1Psnyj3nX70_7__OXXV76eIDb9kGpXEKo8zb8VU2ZrSGhs1PwJsVg1UnsU3XFxedoG1iCjcTdQk2tBuw2_qFQ/s400/n511345505_3443390_9086.jpg" border="0" /></a>There are some "typicals" that you just know them as soon as you see them.. like <span class="388160017-07072008">typical on-diet people: Those you see at McDonald's ordering a Double Big Mac Meal with extra cheese and super size fries yet humbly order a diet coke with their food. Or typical photographers; Those who would turn a 2-hour-trip into a 6 hours just cuz every now and then they stop the vehicle to take some shots.. Those you hate to take your picture at parties cuz you'll never see those pictures again in your life.. Or typical moms.. Well generally speaking all moms, with the same driving habits, characteristics, hair style and dreams.. Or typical idiots, those who screw you up with no intentions and when they want to make it up to you they make it even worse!</span><br />These are the typicals that as soon as you see them you can categorize them but who the heck is this typical Persian girl that guys call us if we ask them to carry heavy stuffs for us or give us their seats when there's not enough seats for everyone.. Or if we cry if the movie ending's sad or get mad if we don't get the attention we want?<span class="388160017-07072008"><br />I really don't know who goes into this category, but from the tone and the look that comes with the phrase, I have a feeling it's not the nicest thing one could say to a girl.. And perhaps that's why we automatically get offended when someone dares to call us a typical Persian girl and of course obliged when they compliment us that we're not a typical Persian girl!<br />My favorite is when a guy friend told me he's read my weblog and he just doesn't get it why people would "waste" too much time on writing everything that comes to their mind! And after a deep look he gave me, he found the answer himself: "Hey if you have so much free time in hand why don't you go to the gym?!!" When he made sure that I'm not joking when I explained the reason I don't go to the gym is not cuz of lack of time, but simply cuz I don't like going to the gym, after a look of disbelief/disappointment on his face he mumbled "a typical Persian girl!" I normally argue about anything that I don't agree with.. The whole idea is either you convince me or I convince you.. But this time I just looked at him and changed the subject to something he could easily comprehend with that tiny-biny cell of brain god's put on his head by mistake and asked him if he liked his beer!<br />I've started thinking everything has an expiry date, so do friends.. That night I knew my friend's been expired for a quite a while!</span>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-11128008723802478812008-06-17T06:58:00.003+04:302008-12-09T22:03:24.453+03:30Things that Make Me Smile :)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ozHjJkmKwEiXBded2EcTT1BhyfaJu5YDN_XvlAXwqt5GHeQti9v0LkD3tLtE40i29SrdhgaCCHP0Rbb3kLu6XoWWFTpdI0m0wETnoXlNA1jW85xg_ah3ncm7xn69q9_cXK0x_A/s1600-h/s.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212703325415757170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ozHjJkmKwEiXBded2EcTT1BhyfaJu5YDN_XvlAXwqt5GHeQti9v0LkD3tLtE40i29SrdhgaCCHP0Rbb3kLu6XoWWFTpdI0m0wETnoXlNA1jW85xg_ah3ncm7xn69q9_cXK0x_A/s400/s.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>When my mom makes me honey milk in the morning before I leave, my dad calls my mom daily to tell her how much weight he's lost since they've been apart, Sandra makes the face as soon as the kiss-boss's-ass guy steps in, Kirash tries to speak Farsi to my mom, Arash tells me about his new job and life in Iran, Maryam dances while she's singing and feels sexy, Houman remembers the silliest things I've told him, Parnia calls right after work to tell me how tired she is and without waiting to breathe asks where to party, Atoosa or Anooshka answer the phone when I call MY home jut to let me know they're in a rush and hang up on me before I get the chance to tell them I'd called to talk to my mom!</div><div>When Abbasi's around, Mani cooks, Marjan makes a visit, Kashani talks about his dreams, Nasim takes care of the "team" and Lida becomes deep!</div><div>That smile you guys give.. Every time I think I can live without you, you give me that smile. I've started thinking you really shouldn't do that to me.</div></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-64370876874024666772008-06-07T07:35:00.000+04:302008-12-09T22:03:24.645+03:30Stay Beautiful...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaK8U_CU3J7NinWI-4uNv-lm1lAZe2Td4PJSLIyKEiVtOK7CCfqmECZOEuxQvUn2N_MgSrddEqurUQIKXNaG7foqygX2mriPt4YyjTIhX-Nmx8A1UALEvjPQyUxxGfVLtT-_4AA/s1600-h/Nun5-frown.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022546091350474242" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaK8U_CU3J7NinWI-4uNv-lm1lAZe2Td4PJSLIyKEiVtOK7CCfqmECZOEuxQvUn2N_MgSrddEqurUQIKXNaG7foqygX2mriPt4YyjTIhX-Nmx8A1UALEvjPQyUxxGfVLtT-_4AA/s400/Nun5-frown.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The first time I decided to be a "nun", I was 18!!! I was madly in love with this guy and the loser didn't love me back and I was so heart broken and everything and it was my first time being in love and thought to myself it's not worth it so decided to become a nun to avoid any more hassles!!! But like many other promises that I gave myself and couldn’t keep them, or simply cuz I knew guys need me more than god does, I kept postponing my engagement with god!<br />It was 10 years ago, but since then every now and then I still sometimes think of it as an option!<br />Maybe all men are a drug. Sometimes they bring you down and sometimes they get you so high. Or maybe they are food: Sometimes simply delicious and yummy and sometimes smelly in a way that no matter how hungry you are you just pass.<br />Maybe they help bringing the best out of you, or making you look down at yourself. Maybe they make you cry with happiness and joy or make you cry with hurt and anger. And maybe they make you think you’re a princess or make you wish you were a nun!<br />There are tons of other maybe’s and for sure sometimes it is impossible to get them but the truth is that they are fun to be around and more importantly they can only do what you allow. And always remember: “It takes 42 muscles in your face to frown, but it takes only 4 muscles to extend your arm and bitch-slap them.”Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-90963089557214111702008-06-07T04:17:00.001+04:302008-06-07T04:45:39.345+04:30<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwtmkvCsVr7JmYxCU5ufOu2xrBRI7J0H1pnAwYMjF7fE5aYXcWoGxY2oERQG2EAOLqe6PPiM6GwOdQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-2500560868069259502008-05-31T17:49:00.000+04:302008-12-09T22:03:24.908+03:30The Most Effective Form of Birth Control is Spending the Day with Some Kids!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2GMgkAGys0A-6qXZeeugVAZM0wBSTa62ydDPnn0x9UZIyxMZhxCBk-onlf9npdFYGzp6rWFhyjdr9veTchHuGbFMtFBoXgyULOM4oG8nPzmCNt1hwbMuoK8OR0deI5jvfvycRg/s1600-h/kid.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104853491092468770" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2GMgkAGys0A-6qXZeeugVAZM0wBSTa62ydDPnn0x9UZIyxMZhxCBk-onlf9npdFYGzp6rWFhyjdr9veTchHuGbFMtFBoXgyULOM4oG8nPzmCNt1hwbMuoK8OR0deI5jvfvycRg/s400/kid.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p>I'm not good with kids.. It's not a secret, even people that don't know me would know it as soon as they see me with a kid!<br />A couple of nights ago I watched this movie "No Reservation" and made me think.. Actually this was the second movie with the same concept.. that a sister dies and the other one should take care of the dead sister's kids!!!!!! And the thing's that the poor sister is not ready at all for this huge responsibility! I mean if she was, she would have one herself, right??!!<br />And then I started feeling cold and scared to death when I remembered I have 2 sisters with 3 kids!!!!!<br />Since it wasn't something that I felt comfortable talking about it face to face I decided to write it in here:<br /><br />Dear sisters,<br />mmmm I don't know how to put it in words without sounding harsh.. Soooo first of all let me tell you how much I love you guys and how deeply I hope you guys live forever and ever but you know what they say: "shit happens!!!" So I'm just writing to ask you, actually to beg you:<br />1) If possible do not die!!!<br />2) If for any reason it happened please please plzzzz don't ruin my and those angel's lives by letting me take care of them.. I mean we already have to deal with you not being around anymore!!! So please don't make it harder for any of us!!!<br />Atoosa honey do you remember how you were so sick 3 years ago and I thought you have SARS and how I was beside your bed asking you not to die cuz I had no clue what to do with your kids??!! It's still the same..<br />I know I have to work on my "taking some responsibility" skills, but let me start by adopting some plants!!! If I was successful with that I might be ready to move on to the next stage: i.e having a fish..<br />Make it short it will take forever for me to be ready for taking care of some kids!!!<br />So I'm just writing to tell you, you really need to take care of yourselves, eat vegetable, sleep well, do some exercise anything you think might help to live longer cuz in case of emergency I'll be in Africa!!! </p>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-77794921684764158142008-05-29T06:28:00.003+04:302008-12-09T22:03:25.070+03:30There Can be Miracle When You Believe...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEyr5q8cFq_skkwtiucX6aAQ6RSRxV3aLahhBHhgOR3n71EncmvlYGCGWMCnG5FoYZLhGrbfCM9DygWrsTiXDN5JY5gH1oqz5IMH4GRU_v1CmYMGcGV_5WrnHxFH2m4oWPkPixQ/s1600-h/4b4a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205613276367972818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEyr5q8cFq_skkwtiucX6aAQ6RSRxV3aLahhBHhgOR3n71EncmvlYGCGWMCnG5FoYZLhGrbfCM9DygWrsTiXDN5JY5gH1oqz5IMH4GRU_v1CmYMGcGV_5WrnHxFH2m4oWPkPixQ/s400/4b4a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Gloria, the walking-talking lady, the pregnancy symptoms as she was the reason for my Monday headaches and afternoon nausea, my no one-said-to-be supervisor has got a boyfriend, which means she leaves work early, doesn't care what I do and since she spends most of her time on the phone, wouldn't find the time to talk to herself in front of me! God bless the guy's soul, finally the sun is shining at me and my real smile is greeting everyone!</div><div>Dear god, I know trying to make it last forever spoils the romance, but please make an exception, if necessary take 3 years of my precious life, let it snow right in the middle of June, but don't let him break up with her!</div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-64653809872764485272008-05-13T06:30:00.001+04:302008-12-09T22:03:25.268+03:30<strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.</span></strong><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA9AXDDpWTw9paAE_XaEEDTpH2LEviNZgGpowzSuCiMgP0Q7s7UHgky4Q7Uw2Sj7UCpLEggJpLUH_XCpzzaZ1v9RMcTp4UTK-ItzfWuj2nVTqv_iQM0nOmXYxppUbFTjbruiPZNg/s1600-h/IMG_4902.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199674908884241266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA9AXDDpWTw9paAE_XaEEDTpH2LEviNZgGpowzSuCiMgP0Q7s7UHgky4Q7Uw2Sj7UCpLEggJpLUH_XCpzzaZ1v9RMcTp4UTK-ItzfWuj2nVTqv_iQM0nOmXYxppUbFTjbruiPZNg/s400/IMG_4902.jpg" border="0" /></a>Another airport.. Another fake smile and a big failure not to cry.. Another holding tight not wanting to let go.. Another last minute stupid joke instead of begging not to go.. Another freaking Good-Bye!<br />I'm gonna miss your dumb jokes, the early morning wake up calls, your "don't worry we'll do something about it when you get home!", even our fights! And tho you won't believe me I'm gonna miss going nuts cuz of the way you drive and listening to your annoying intolerable music!<br />I'm gonna miss your comments, your cooking and the proud look on your face over the burned dish of a so-called food, your messiness, your craziness, your kindness, your incredible sense of humour, your attitude towards life, your silliness.. I'm gonna miss you!<br />I'd even miss your last-minute-looking for cellphone and wallet, ironing your shirt, checking your e-mails, paying the bills or your sudden urge of change into a new outfit right before we leave the house!<br />Come back soon, this place is so boring without you!Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-90086890969392791452008-05-08T08:28:00.008+04:302008-12-09T22:03:25.407+03:30I'm Lazy.. But It's the Lazy People Who Invented the Wheel and the Bicycle Because They Didn't Like Walking or Carrying Things<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJAs7Np01H6WU8UbEXYF3BXl5J9xn5KAQEP7lrN4_9jmkmc8ZeZHYh4qWDw8HUYeR5ybvT9Q9h3uKzWTXqzsoijdawxr2STOccs_CL8Jr8SY3nyNsAVCBg_m4nZ-g6bcxSEiEzEQ/s1600-h/yoga.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197849397660293730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJAs7Np01H6WU8UbEXYF3BXl5J9xn5KAQEP7lrN4_9jmkmc8ZeZHYh4qWDw8HUYeR5ybvT9Q9h3uKzWTXqzsoijdawxr2STOccs_CL8Jr8SY3nyNsAVCBg_m4nZ-g6bcxSEiEzEQ/s400/yoga.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>"I'm gonna die!" It was the first thing that came to my mind.. I'm gonna die lonely and scared with no loved ones around, no last words, no last moments.. No nothing.. I'm gonna die in this hot smelly room full of sweaty tired strangers with a dizzy head, sick stomach and a dark blurry vision and no one would even know what I'd been thinking about in my very last moments of my life!!!</div><div>It all happened in half an hour of that stupid hot yoga class we went to tonight!</div><div>The whole idea is to practice yoga in a room heated to 40.5°C with a humidity of 40% perhaps to sweat to death and find it difficult to breathe!</div><div>When we were registering the guy warned us that we might feel dizzy or nausea in the class as it happens to beginners especially to women and he added that we don't need to freak out and all we need to do is to lie down a bit and we should be fine! It sooooo wasn't fine!!</div><div>My 90-minute class only lasted for 30 minutes, when I started feeling dizzy and the whole thing went black! So I did what the guy had told me: Lied down for 10 minutes, got up to realize I'm feeling worse and spent the next 20 minutes thinking I'm dying for nothing and then left the class forever! After the paint ball, I think tonight was my worst experience of spending an evening with a friend!</div><div>I swear to god my body always shows negative reactions to any kind of exercising or working out or anything related to consuming energy!! I either get fat or numb and in this case dead!!</div><div>They say sports do not build character. They reveal it... And sounds like my character is to sit somewhere, relax and enjoy my movement-free life!</div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-89627860189975185002008-05-06T08:06:00.005+04:302008-12-09T22:03:25.676+03:30! قشنگ یعنی تعبیر عاشقانه اشکال<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqX7gO6TglXPDjh_jqozAD-2uv7YV-LTiBxv-SIiP-LztciNagcITvsIu_c3ghf4Q_WAAbP0oMsiY-1_1PJRFR_6rw0qWiyBiWulNVSL90Mya7EJbwAuom0jZ9bMOJR4-sPS69OQ/s1600-h/Couple+in+the+Rain.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197105197377580098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqX7gO6TglXPDjh_jqozAD-2uv7YV-LTiBxv-SIiP-LztciNagcITvsIu_c3ghf4Q_WAAbP0oMsiY-1_1PJRFR_6rw0qWiyBiWulNVSL90Mya7EJbwAuom0jZ9bMOJR4-sPS69OQ/s400/Couple+in+the+Rain.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">تو مسیر یه خیابون توی یک غروب پاییز زیر چتر خیس بارون<br /></span></strong></div><br /><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">یه نگاه ساده از تویه سلام ساده از من چندتا لبخند دروغین </span></strong><br /><br /></div><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">چند قدم پیاده رفتن چندتا پرسش از گذشته چندتا حرف کودکانه<br /></span></strong></div><br /><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">دل زدن به قلب دریا یه سوال عاشقانه </span></strong></div><br /><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">همه چی ساده شروع شد ساده مثل دل سپردن<br /></span></strong></div><br /><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">مثل عاشق شدن تو مثل عاشق شدن من<br /></span></strong></div><br /><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">هر قدم که با تو رفتم هنوزم به خاطرم هست کوچه ها تموم نمی شد حتا کوچه های بن بست</span></strong></div><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>همه چی ساده شروع شد تو مسیر یه خیابون توی یک غروب پاییز زیر چتر خیس</strong> <strong>بارو</strong><strong>ن</strong></span></div></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-23214224908444775142008-04-29T01:17:00.001+04:302008-12-09T22:03:25.797+03:30This World without You is like a Music Without Tunes!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBHHU5wyUKlC3QrMZAG9T2PbpBSwBZHHf3nTobFLfo_BUcyslIbo5nu4KwAypXAugHVEaPmlG2-TPJSIfOTqrnhH5_Or7l5L5NJOvG5QFEbPqva0M53mO7P3z5xpQCQeX4s-4gA/s1600-h/anoosh.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052659452971301218" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBHHU5wyUKlC3QrMZAG9T2PbpBSwBZHHf3nTobFLfo_BUcyslIbo5nu4KwAypXAugHVEaPmlG2-TPJSIfOTqrnhH5_Or7l5L5NJOvG5QFEbPqva0M53mO7P3z5xpQCQeX4s-4gA/s400/anoosh.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This girl here is quite something.. She's the combination of different interesting things (I'm trying to avoid using the word "weird" in public) </div><div>She can be a party animal and at the same time a workaholic.. She hates doing easy yummy stuffs like cooking but is a clean freak.. She believes she's not an alcoholic, we all agree with her in words but sigh in our hearts!</div><div>Do not watch a movie with her if her son is around.. She doesn't care how many other people are watching, she should explain every little thing that is going on in the movie for her 5-year-old kid!!! And if you wanna take picture make sure you bring one extra camera for her.. She can't help it.. Have an urge to take pictures of herself!!</div><div>No matter how much I've told her it's all about heart, her biggest wish is that she was white..<br /></div><div>She thinks she's shy but the first time she met her husband's family she played piano and sang for them!!</div><div>She's the most easy going person that I know but gets realllyyyy upset when we ask her why you just give noon panir gerdoo to your family.. </div><div>She believes in talking to god at nights, but she falls asleep before saying the first word..</div><div>It's just that she's just she!</div><div></div><div>I told you she's an interesting combination or as my cousin has said: "She's a phenomenon you can't see everyday: bright and silly, serious and crazy, hard-working and lazy, logical and obstinate." :)</div><div>I love you sooooo much!</div><div></div><br /><div></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-14479434628333059952008-04-06T02:28:00.001+04:302008-12-09T22:03:26.316+03:30Day 3 of Alcohol-Free Month.. Hands starting to shakeee!!!!!:S<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2m-hVNYDLKGfeyiafWtGGikVOrF1yRRQR6Rm5kB_uN7rCI_XduSmR0qzeNYSOnb1N08w8ClHMKB7-6i5RmWC9Pg43qbKpxnQwxKV3xaeRHtSM3izNK895DulC3c7K1D3-6A-CHw/s1600-h/brken+glass.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111262188425249138" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2m-hVNYDLKGfeyiafWtGGikVOrF1yRRQR6Rm5kB_uN7rCI_XduSmR0qzeNYSOnb1N08w8ClHMKB7-6i5RmWC9Pg43qbKpxnQwxKV3xaeRHtSM3izNK895DulC3c7K1D3-6A-CHw/s400/brken+glass.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>I'm not sure how many of you know Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Zakarīya</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">al</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Rāzi</span>, but for sure I'm one of his biggest fans.. He <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">introduced</span> me to my best friend: alcohol.. Well for such a long time I couldn't choose between Wine and Chocolate but since I've lost that killing crave for chocolate, Wine's been my one and only one..</div><div>But like all other love stories that don't last forever, my body got <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">jealous</span> of this "Platonic Love" and started reacting by gaining weight.. Like by making me "massive" I would give up!!!! Then started hurting me by giving me terrible stomach pains.. Since that didn't work either, now my precious body has decided to kill me by not functioning well!!!</div><div>It's like the times when my mom didn't like the guys I used to date and well first I would struggle and fight but after a while would realize it's not worth it and would simply give up..</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Soooo</span> to be friends with my body again I decided to stop drinking for a whole month.. Now there's a huge fight between my broken heart and my stubborn body.. I'll update you which one wins but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">something</span> deep down tells me the heart is not that strong to win the battle... That's how it used to be and gonna be I guess!!!</div><div></div></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38270214.post-68270049915097015652008-03-30T23:42:00.007+04:302008-12-09T22:03:26.431+03:30Hot as Ice!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-eNo8-aasVAvfcgp-7S0pgtRX4hk2f0NjVgh2fkAerMvac6z-nU9hR1oPpv-0nTRHAKahnD8_GLjjZ5GFMQRZqRrt7t7ZskPGsq5WumMbdcyV1K4PIqr6Lm9OEN7NKee-J1nFDw/s1600-h/hot%2520or%2520not.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183617481120518002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-eNo8-aasVAvfcgp-7S0pgtRX4hk2f0NjVgh2fkAerMvac6z-nU9hR1oPpv-0nTRHAKahnD8_GLjjZ5GFMQRZqRrt7t7ZskPGsq5WumMbdcyV1K4PIqr6Lm9OEN7NKee-J1nFDw/s400/hot%2520or%2520not.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>My niece, a 12-year-old, has started talking about cute and popular guys at school.. Although we joke around about it a lot, something inside me so bad wants her to stop!! Last night after a small chit-chat with her I started thinking about my life.. When I started realizing love.. The real love I mean.. Not all the imaginary lovers I had when I was her age from James Smith in Pocahontas and that singer in LA and my plans to grow up soon and move to US to be with him happily ever after, to that movie director who had just lost his wife and my only problem was how to convince my mom to let me marry a guy who's youngest child was my age!!!<br />Have I ever been in love? I think I was once, years ago when i was too young to understand what's going on!! I'd be lying if I say I don't miss that feeling.. You see, I wasn't only in love with the guy, I was in love with every single day of my life.. No matter how I felt or how bad my day was only a phone call from him and I was the shiniest girl in the globe!<br />When I compare myself to those days I can't help but wondering what has happened to that girl! I used to be emotional, nice and caring.. I used to love and be loved and be grateful for that.. I used to know what I want.. Most importantly I used to be a woman, when my heart was as hot as fire not as ice!!!<br />A friend of mine told me a couple of nights ago that he feels a part of him dies with every relationship that goes wrong! Is it only him or that's what happens to all of us??!! We give, we receive, we hurt, we get hurt, we go through emotional break downs, we "think" we've learned our lesson and feel stronger for the next one! What we don't know is that we're not getting stronger, we're making our guard around us thicker to protect ourselves from the unknown! From things that would hurt us again! So we can move on easier every time we're involved with a new person until it becomes a routine! First thing you don't like, you break it up and shout: "Next!"<br />How many "nexts" did I have, I simply don't know! There are many faces and names that fades out in time.. </div><div>But the whole procedure has made a new person out of me.. Someone who can't trust her feelings herself.. Gets attached easily, disattached easier.. Loves this minute, doubts her feelings the very next minute.. Gets mad and forgives, gets upset and moves on, gets hurt shrugs and calls it a hard luck!!!! Someone who cares and doesn't care at the same time.. Laughs at the same thing that made her cry the night before.. Someone who looks for love everywhere but when she finds it she gets panic attacks, feels suffocated and runs away!!!</div><div>Now when I feel my niece is at the age of starting to experience emotional stuffs how can I warn her about the outcomes without sounding like a loser?? How would a 12 year old understand when I tell her she needs to be careful that she might end up getting hurt but still has to have her hopes up and look forward to a beautiful relationship?? Would she understand it if I tell her variety is spice of life but she needs to get familiar with the term "enough"? How can I explain to her that what goes around, comes around and she needs to pay extra care while she's dealing with others' feelings! That she shouldn't want to be everything to someone or makes someone everything, that all she needs is to be something to someone!</div><div>My dad says when you can put your finger on where the problem is you've already passed 50% of the way.. I know I'm on my half way but the question is isn't it too late to change to be able to pass the second half??!!</div><div></div>Azinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02231550634995896609noreply@blogger.com6