<?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-7320176651205486771</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:39:27.745-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sylvie noire</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>silvianour</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320176651205486771.post-5482007327551616984</id><published>2008-11-25T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T08:24:55.109-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WORLD BLOG STORIES: Povestea III</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://worldblogstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/povestea-iii.html#comments"&gt;WORLD BLOG STORIES: Povestea III&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar se impiedica de piciorul scaunului. Blana aceea luxoasa, adunata ghemotoc in jurul capului, o facea sa para si mai ridicola. Fabri nu putu sa-si stapaneasca un ras sardonic ce rasuna in intreaga incapere. Cu un glas vesel,si cu o mimica ce aducea a travestit, zise:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7320176651205486771-5482007327551616984?l=sylvienoire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://worldblogstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/povestea-iii.html#comments' title='WORLD BLOG STORIES: Povestea III'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/feeds/5482007327551616984/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7320176651205486771&amp;postID=5482007327551616984' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/5482007327551616984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/5482007327551616984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/2008/11/world-blog-stories-povestea-iii.html' title='WORLD BLOG STORIES: Povestea III'/><author><name>silvianour</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320176651205486771.post-3383868507682142131</id><published>2008-08-07T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T13:52:47.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SJtgbzW21MI/AAAAAAAAABY/liYfR1fyE1s/s1600-h/IMG_6633.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231881422879773890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SJtgbzW21MI/AAAAAAAAABY/liYfR1fyE1s/s320/IMG_6633.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In momentul de fata Diana este grija mea nr 1. Pe Diana am cunoscut-o in primul meu an de facultate, la primul job. Era studenta la sociologie, era f ambitioasa, citea mult si se angajase ca sa isi stranga niste bani. Forward cativa ani(2): Diana se tine in continuare de facultate, are bursa, este vesela, are ambitii si un iubit. In aceasta perioada, chestii care inainte pareau incerte incep sa se aseze. Isi descopera spiritualitatea, merge la biserica, iubeste, planuieste sa se casatoreasca(cu un tip cu care pare f compatibila). Forward 3 luni: joi dupa amiaza, Diana coboara din tramvai: slaba(45 kg), fusta neagra lunga, tricou, aspect general de persoana in suferinta si vulnerabila. Trec peste uimire si incep sa aprofundez situatia: nu este pregatita pt casatorie(it's ok....who would be at this age), a trecut prin mai multe, s-a hotarat sa nu mai dea la master, job...nu stie dc vrea, vrea doar spiritualitate si credinta... stupoare, stupoare...adik 3 ani de facultate in care a muncit f mult se sting asa? masterul de care era f entuziasmata(mai ales cand calculase probabilitatile de a intra la buget) se duce pe apa sambetei(nota 10 la licenta)? De ce? fiindca in viata avem deceptii? fiindca desi viitorul parea aproape trasat s-a dovedit incert? Fiindca esti dezorientat si nu stii incotro s-o apuci?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/7320176651205486771-3383868507682142131?l=sylvienoire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/feeds/3383868507682142131/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7320176651205486771&amp;postID=3383868507682142131' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/3383868507682142131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/3383868507682142131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/2008/08/diana.html' title='Diana'/><author><name>silvianour</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SJtgbzW21MI/AAAAAAAAABY/liYfR1fyE1s/s72-c/IMG_6633.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320176651205486771.post-1563546103294271798</id><published>2008-06-27T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T05:54:11.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catalina Popescu</title><content type='html'>Din pacate nu am inca nici o poza cu Catalina(diferenta de varsta intotdeauna m-a impiedicat sa o tutiesc, dar cand vorbesc despre ea nu folosesc formulele de politete). Catalina mi-a fost profesoara de romana in liceu. Maxim 15 ani ne despart. Eram clasa de filologie, cu toate astea profesorii de romana se schimbau in fiecare an. In prima zi a venit cu un volum de poezii Arghezi si ne a citit una din lungul sir "Creion"(mentionand ca e printre singurele poezii ale lui Arghezi ce merita citite). O femeie inalta, cu un trup zvelt, piele maslinie, ochi negri, par negru(deci frumoasa), cu un deux- pieces cadrilat, s-a asezat pe catedra si a inceput sa ne citeasca poezia lasandu ne la sfarsit sa o comentam. Eram fermecata desigur. Curand mi am apropiat profesoara. Ii dadeam sa citeasca textele mele "gotice" facand ulterior schimb de impresii  si de semnificatii. dupa 2 ani s-a mutat in alt liceu. Timp de un an n-am vazut-o dar i-am dus dorul. Ne am intalnit total accidental intr-un hypermarket si abia atunci mi-am dat seama cat imi lipsise. Urma bacul si am cerut meditatii la romana(puteam si fara dar mai mult altceva imi lipsea decat consolidarea cunostintelor). Asadar am mers timp de un an la Catalina, unde faceam f adesea cerc literar fiindca discutiile se invarteau in jurul poeziilor. Asa am aflat cum este genial ca un poet"sa vada idei", cum profesoara mea atunci cand are o poezie de "dezlegat" o scrie si o pune la vedere, citind-o pana isi apropie sensul, pana o vede. Cum are carti care ii comunica sensuri fara sa le citeasca. va continua...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7320176651205486771-1563546103294271798?l=sylvienoire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/feeds/1563546103294271798/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7320176651205486771&amp;postID=1563546103294271798' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/1563546103294271798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/1563546103294271798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/2008/06/catalina-popescu.html' title='Catalina Popescu'/><author><name>silvianour</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320176651205486771.post-7283556723322471263</id><published>2008-06-03T11:16:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:40:41.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ionut</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SEWMajKM_DI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Vb5O9v-9gec/s1600-h/DSC00106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207722931866369074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SEWMajKM_DI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Vb5O9v-9gec/s320/DSC00106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ionut a venit intr un moment in care viata mea trecea printr o mare schimbare. iubitul meu de atunci se indragostise de altcineva iar eu simteam asta si sufeream ca un caine. Geniul prieteniei de care el da dovada si atentia de care ma bucuram atunci din partea lui erau exact elementele de care aveam nevoie. O ratacire de a mea dintr o noapte a distrus ceea ce era prietenie si mi a dat o lectie de viata f importanta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 fraze a la Ionut:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;daca n-ai prieteni n-ai viata !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;toate la timpul lor!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ahh..nush..mai devreme aveam inspiratie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;acum eram pe cale sa ma bag in pat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;faci o statistica sau ce?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7320176651205486771-7283556723322471263?l=sylvienoire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/feeds/7283556723322471263/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7320176651205486771&amp;postID=7283556723322471263' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/7283556723322471263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/7283556723322471263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/2008/06/ionut_03.html' title='Ionut'/><author><name>silvianour</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SEWMajKM_DI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Vb5O9v-9gec/s72-c/DSC00106.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320176651205486771.post-7158144626214752678</id><published>2008-06-03T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:40:42.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Katy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SEWJ2zKM_CI/AAAAAAAAAAo/5l4AaEaephc/s1600-h/Picture+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207720118662790178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SEWJ2zKM_CI/AAAAAAAAAAo/5l4AaEaephc/s320/Picture+076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Katy este una dintre florile gasite in cenusa de la Deben. Ne asemanam la capitolul stari depresive, iubire moarte si literatura. Este salbatica, este frumoasa, in ochi ii straluceste seductia prin salbaticie. Am admirat o mereu pentru puterea de a face ceea ce altii nu pot, am urat o cu pasiune si am suferit ca un caine cand mi a tradat prietenia. A fost prima,si presupun ca singura, fata care mi a facut avansuri.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;porecle a la Katy:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sil&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stickie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;fraza demna a la Katy: n am mai vb cu Dana, Dana parca a murit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/7320176651205486771-7158144626214752678?l=sylvienoire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/feeds/7158144626214752678/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7320176651205486771&amp;postID=7158144626214752678' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/7158144626214752678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/7158144626214752678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/2008/06/katy.html' title='Katy'/><author><name>silvianour</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SEWJ2zKM_CI/AAAAAAAAAAo/5l4AaEaephc/s72-c/Picture+076.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320176651205486771.post-7028865719692991413</id><published>2008-05-24T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:40:42.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laurentiu sau Lorans(cum imi place sa i spun)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SDhRbrRldWI/AAAAAAAAAAg/UGTDwcS4hBw/s1600-h/S6301450.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SDhRbrRldWI/AAAAAAAAAAg/UGTDwcS4hBw/s320/S6301450.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203998905341408610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Laurentiu&lt;/span&gt; era singurul mai ciudat decat mine din Deben. Intamplare amuzanta: el este usor pretios in ceea ce tine de self care si self image. Eram in pauza de masa si eu am mers cu ei in ultimele 10 min la fumat. El a luat o "Sapte Seri", a deschis o la mijloc si s a asezat pe ea ca sa nu se murdareasca stand pe ciment. Cand s a ridicat avea revista lipita de fund. O deschisese la mijloc si se "capsase" de pantaloni. A mers cu ea asa agatata pana cand s a incumetat cineva sa "il elibereze".&lt;br /&gt;5 fraze Lorans:&lt;br /&gt;"fumez deci exist )"&lt;br /&gt;"multumesc celui kre a inventat cola"&lt;br /&gt;"sunt un mare bou si ma oftic"&lt;br /&gt;"sa dorm sa beau sa ies sa vad filme ..."&lt;br /&gt;"pam pam"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7320176651205486771-7028865719692991413?l=sylvienoire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/feeds/7028865719692991413/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7320176651205486771&amp;postID=7028865719692991413' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/7028865719692991413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7320176651205486771/posts/default/7028865719692991413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sylvienoire.blogspot.com/2008/05/laurentiu-sau-loranscum-imi-place-sa-i.html' title='Laurentiu sau Lorans(cum imi place sa i spun)'/><author><name>silvianour</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3PS65bq2ZYw/SDhRbrRldWI/AAAAAAAAAAg/UGTDwcS4hBw/s72-c/S6301450.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
