<?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-5938079334641758418</id><updated>2011-04-22T06:34:51.877+01:00</updated><category term='Famelga'/><category term='Experiência'/><category term='Coisas'/><title type='text'>Tagarel!ces</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06687964181086594186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F4KNHT52dNw/SKBK7G3sDpI/AAAAAAAAACU/4Bu_Mk1p-1k/s1600-R/100_2131.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5938079334641758418.post-7095093230040093476</id><published>2008-10-13T22:49:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T23:36:18.384+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhar com olhos de ver!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"...How can you train your heart? It's a lot like training your eye: there was always that crack in the sidewalk, you just never noticed before the way that the lines trace like lightning bolts, the starkness of the light grey concrete, and the blackness of the crevices, the perfect intricacies of it all. (...)There is always so much to see, and there is always so much to feel." Asia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sleeptrip.com/"&gt;http://www.sleeptrip.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://pro.corbis.com/images/42-16266071.jpg?size=67&amp;amp;uid={b81f071a-24ad-495e-8d7f-8fdad232746c}"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 289px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" height="167" alt="" src="http://pro.corbis.com/images/42-16266071.jpg?size=67&amp;amp;uid={b81f071a-24ad-495e-8d7f-8fdad232746c}" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Encontrei este texto enquanto andava por aí a passear, fez-me pensar... Já repararam que muitas vezes são exactamente as coisa pequeninas, os promenores, que nos " agarram" a qualquer coisa, ou áquela pessoa. Aquele pôr do sol no sítio X, o sinal escondido no olho da pessoa Y, a forma como a chuva caí num certo parapeito, um sorriso quase inperceptível no momento certo, um telefonema que chega na altura h...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;E já repararam também como a maioria dessas pequenas coisas nos passam despercebidas? Muita vezes olhamos para os sítios, pessoas, coisas... mas n os vemos realmente! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;A mim tem-me escapado a vista linda da viagem de comboio Lisboa- Cascais, os pacotes de açúcar na maioria dos cafés ( lol há pacotes mm giros e eu rasgo-os smp sem vê-los), um certo sorriso perfeito, a frase escrita no prédio do outro lado da rua e concerteza muitas coisas mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;E vcs? o que vos tem passado ao lado? Quero saber!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Ps - Desculpem a ausência... prometo ser mais presente ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5938079334641758418-7095093230040093476?l=asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/feeds/7095093230040093476/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5938079334641758418&amp;postID=7095093230040093476&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/7095093230040093476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/7095093230040093476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/2008/10/olhar-com-olhos-de-ver.html' title='Olhar com olhos de ver!'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06687964181086594186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F4KNHT52dNw/SKBK7G3sDpI/AAAAAAAAACU/4Bu_Mk1p-1k/s1600-R/100_2131.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5938079334641758418.post-1688532721396837802</id><published>2008-08-17T22:42:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T02:04:06.099+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coisas'/><title type='text'>TrimTrim!!!...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://pro.corbis.com/images/42-19548561.jpg?size=67&amp;amp;uid={984ceecc-ad8d-4822-acc6-eb12f031946a}"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" height="213" alt="" src="http://pro.corbis.com/images/42-19548561.jpg?size=67&amp;amp;uid={984ceecc-ad8d-4822-acc6-eb12f031946a}" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Estive aqui a pensar, e tenho de admitir que sou uma tagarela um bocadinho estranha, a verdade é que tirando 3 ou 4 excepções (com quem falo muito) não gosto mesmo nada de falar ao telefone... Não gosto, sinto-me desconfortável... Claro que uso imenso o telemóvel, e hoje em dia parece mesmo que a maioria das pessoas já não &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;conseguiriam&lt;/span&gt; viver sem os seus, mas não gosto de estar a fazer conversa ou tagarelar muito... Geralmente limito-me ao necessário...Às vezes há aqueles amigos que têm aqueles tarifários fantásticos =P com chamadas grátis e volta e meia estão-me a telefonar, só porque sim... só para saber as novidades. E eu, que não sei o que dizer... E os amigos que me vêm normalmente tão faladora ficam a achar que estou zangada ou que se passa alguma coisa... mas não é nada de especial, só que &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; me sinto  à vontade com o telefone. Ao telefone, falta aquela qualquer coisa especial, faltam os sorrisos, faltam os silêncios cúmplices, falta &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;interpretar&lt;/span&gt; aquela expressão que diz tudo...é um pouco como o &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;messenger&lt;/span&gt;... também me chateia, um bocado de forma diferente mas pronto...Não sei... Se calhar sou mesmo só eu que sou &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;esquisita&lt;/span&gt;, digam de vossa justiça...&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5938079334641758418-1688532721396837802?l=asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/feeds/1688532721396837802/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5938079334641758418&amp;postID=1688532721396837802&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/1688532721396837802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/1688532721396837802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/2008/08/trimtrim.html' title='TrimTrim!!!...'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06687964181086594186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F4KNHT52dNw/SKBK7G3sDpI/AAAAAAAAACU/4Bu_Mk1p-1k/s1600-R/100_2131.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5938079334641758418.post-2155761157438329697</id><published>2008-08-12T02:07:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T14:21:00.312+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coisas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Famelga'/><title type='text'>Jogos Olímpicos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://cache.boston.com/universal/site_graphics/blogs/bigpicture/oly_08_08/oly17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://cache.boston.com/universal/site_graphics/blogs/bigpicture/oly_08_08/oly17.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Almoço de família, muita tagarelice e a boa disposição e cumplicidade habitual entre avós, primos, tios, pais... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Estavamos todos maravilhados com acerimónia de abertura dos Jogos Olímpicos, principalmente com a sincronização dos participantes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Preocupação da minha avó, depois de ter feito cozido á Portuguesa para 15 pessoas:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-" Minha nossa Senhora... Mas quem é que vai dar de comer aquela gente toda?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;=P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A&lt;/em&gt; organização dos jogos Olímpicos em Pequim insiste que a situação do Tibete não deve ser relacionada com a realização dos Jogos Olímpicos . Mas não está tudo relacionado? Não é o espírito dos jogos Olímpicos tabém a união entre os povos? Tudo bem que um boicote dos jogos possa parecer radical, mas, e uma vez que estamos todos com os olhos pregados na China, era bom que não vissemos apenas as maravilhas e os grandes feitos dos jogos Olímpicos mas também o que de menos bom por lá acontece&lt;em&gt;!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5938079334641758418-2155761157438329697?l=asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/feeds/2155761157438329697/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5938079334641758418&amp;postID=2155761157438329697&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/2155761157438329697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/2155761157438329697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/2008/08/jogos-olmpicos.html' title='Jogos Olímpicos'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06687964181086594186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F4KNHT52dNw/SKBK7G3sDpI/AAAAAAAAACU/4Bu_Mk1p-1k/s1600-R/100_2131.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5938079334641758418.post-1968103402613188687</id><published>2008-08-10T16:17:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T16:31:28.722+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiência'/><title type='text'>I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Alô!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque depois de passear um bocadinho pela &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blogosfera&lt;/span&gt; fiquei com vontade de voltar, de partilhar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pedaçinhos&lt;/span&gt; de mim, de tagarelar com o mundo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero poder tagarelar muito convosco!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5938079334641758418-1968103402613188687?l=asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/feeds/1968103402613188687/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5938079334641758418&amp;postID=1968103402613188687&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/1968103402613188687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5938079334641758418/posts/default/1968103402613188687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asminhastagarelices.blogspot.com/2008/08/i.html' title='I'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06687964181086594186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F4KNHT52dNw/SKBK7G3sDpI/AAAAAAAAACU/4Bu_Mk1p-1k/s1600-R/100_2131.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
