<?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-1943762219734153363</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:58:00.538-08:00</updated><category term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><category term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><category term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>:0  - Clara ^^</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-8966580320706836835</id><published>2009-05-13T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T12:47:42.391-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>THE END</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Sgsj2DxubSI/AAAAAAAAAHk/4aOS45LpABM/s1600-h/the-end.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Sgsj2DxubSI/AAAAAAAAAHk/4aOS45LpABM/s320/the-end.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335397595184262434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you looked at the photo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my last entry and I'm very happy because writing compositions on this blog isn't hard, (but it needs a lot of time, too much, I think).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my experience in this blog is good because it helps you to try to get the mark up. Also, it helps you to think quick and being more fluent on your writings, but against this, you can't learn about your mistakes because nobody corrects it. I mean, Gemma corrects it, but at the end of the term, so there isn't enough time for her to tell us about the errors. Maybe a solution would be to arrange some days to correct it before the end of the term. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generaly, blog is good but the portfolio it's a stupid thing unless do podcast and a summary of the film. Besides, news only force you to read them because they are short and when you write the summary you learn very little. I think that is useless because the biggest part of it has already been done by hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it, I would like all of you to have a good summer, have a good time and enjoy yourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-8966580320706836835?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/8966580320706836835/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=8966580320706836835' title='4 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8966580320706836835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8966580320706836835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/05/end.html' title='THE END'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Sgsj2DxubSI/AAAAAAAAAHk/4aOS45LpABM/s72-c/the-end.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-5438639192255625300</id><published>2009-05-13T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T12:37:05.734-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>GUITAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SgshODkaz7I/AAAAAAAAAHc/1Y7Il8OBaHQ/s1600-h/23+i+24+JunY+08+128.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SgshODkaz7I/AAAAAAAAAHc/1Y7Il8OBaHQ/s320/23+i+24+JunY+08+128.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335394708910428082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good evening! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you?&lt;br /&gt;I hope you're all well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, this is my last compulsory entry on my blog and I've decided to write about guitars because I have been playing it for five years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guitar is a musical instrument with six strings which is played with fingers or a pick. The Spanish guitar is made of wood and it is used to play blues, rock, "flamenc", and "ranxeres". &lt;br /&gt;The origins and the evolution of the guitar aren't very clear. There is archeological evidence found on Alaça Hüyük (Turkey) that on 1000 b.C created some instruments similar to the dormouse. Besides, they have found representation in images in Egypt. &lt;br /&gt;There are two theories; One of them says that its origin goes back to the Greek and Roman times. The other theory says that its origin goes back to Arabic people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you know what a guitar is and its origins, I'm going to talk about how it has influenced me. &lt;br /&gt;Well, I started to play it when I was twelve years old. I don't really know why I decided to play the guitar but I continued until last summer. Now I don't play it because with the "batxillerat" I haven't got enough time to do it. For four years I studied guitar with my teacher Ricard is from Castelló and he played with "Els Màgics". Before, studied with him I had learnt to play it with a woman in my school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays I would like to continue playing it from time to time because it relaxes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOO&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-5438639192255625300?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/5438639192255625300/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=5438639192255625300' title='3 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5438639192255625300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5438639192255625300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/05/guitar.html' title='GUITAR'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SgshODkaz7I/AAAAAAAAAHc/1Y7Il8OBaHQ/s72-c/23+i+24+JunY+08+128.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-1598109785999268717</id><published>2009-05-11T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T11:17:49.693-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>ANYTHING TO SAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SghrotKpjAI/AAAAAAAAAHU/AFmzYVWJ890/s1600-h/NO+EM+TOQUIS+LA+FLOR+-+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SghrotKpjAI/AAAAAAAAAHU/AFmzYVWJ890/s320/NO+EM+TOQUIS+LA+FLOR+-+023.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334632105683553282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a problem guys! &lt;br /&gt;I don't have any ideas to write a composition for the blog. I suppose that all of you are in the same situation because we're at the end of the school year and our brain is already collapsed. So, maybe what I'm going to talk about won't be interesting for all of you, but you know... I'm sure you're going to understand me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let's go!&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I will play a role on a theater play in Fortià. As all of you know, in the play I represent the Swedish's secretary. All of us, the actors, are very nervous and worried about it because only three days ago we started to see that the result was acceptable. We hope the audience won't through tomatoes or stones to us and they have to understand that we are amateurs, not prefessionals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have to tell you that one of the actors doesn't know his role yet. The only thing we can do is to pray for this weekend and hope that a miracle saves us and everybody who goes to watch the play, laugh a lot and spend a good time because of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, don't come to see me. I recomend you to stay at home, go to the beach or sleep, because everything is going to be better than going to watch the play to see Clara drunk (not for real! it's my role in the play ehh! ¬¬).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XXX&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-1598109785999268717?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/1598109785999268717/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=1598109785999268717' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1598109785999268717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1598109785999268717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/05/anything-to-say.html' title='ANYTHING TO SAY'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SghrotKpjAI/AAAAAAAAAHU/AFmzYVWJ890/s72-c/NO+EM+TOQUIS+LA+FLOR+-+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-2968998690254085271</id><published>2009-04-23T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T12:12:41.269-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>AN ERROR!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Se9r0-9Z42I/AAAAAAAAAHM/nmsgioDD4zY/s1600-h/ERROR.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 206px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Se9r0-9Z42I/AAAAAAAAAHM/nmsgioDD4zY/s320/ERROR.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327595442200503138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you?&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little bit stressed because I have too many things to do and I would like to finish all as soon as possible... While all this isn't did I will keep being nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyway, I'm going to tell you some things that happen to me in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, on Friday night, my sister gave me lift to Robin's house. After a few minutes we decided to go to the Capitans Cabin where we drank some beers and we talked... Also we met some friends that we hadn't seen for some months. At quarter past two in the morning we came back Robin's home ans both of us felt asleep. Some hours later my alarm clock went off, I woke up and I started to prepare everything to go to work. Even, I had some cereals and I put them in a plastic bag because I was late. After all that I went out to wait for my mum to pick me up and the time was going on and my mum didn't appear. I tried to phone her with my mobile but in my phone account the money round out. I was very nervous, I returned home and I used the fixed telephone. My mum told me that I was wrong with the time, it was an hour earlier. In that moment I thought; I'm stupid! I'm silly! I'm a fool!!!!!! and I went back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;At the real time, when I had to go to work I was tired and I felt asleep because sleeping, waking up and sleeping again isn't good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-2968998690254085271?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/2968998690254085271/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=2968998690254085271' title='2 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2968998690254085271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2968998690254085271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/04/error.html' title='AN ERROR!'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Se9r0-9Z42I/AAAAAAAAAHM/nmsgioDD4zY/s72-c/ERROR.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-8933350197587449920</id><published>2009-04-22T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T11:55:59.516-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>Easter Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Se9n44aQhLI/AAAAAAAAAHE/CDvAocyENX0/s1600-h/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Se9n44aQhLI/AAAAAAAAAHE/CDvAocyENX0/s320/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+115.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327591111115441330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my fifth entry and I'm going to talk about my Easter Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning we,(my sister, my parents and Robin), woke up at eleven o'clock and we went to Figueres to buy the tipical Easter cake which is called "tortell", that we had previously ordered. After that my father drove to la Cellera de Ter because I'am Núria's godmother and I had to give her the Easter cake. Núria is my cousin's daughter and she has got one brother younger than her. He is nine months and his name is Jordi.&lt;br /&gt;Well, when we arrived there we went to my aunt's house where Núria...were. Later, we went to Olot to have lunch. The restaurant was nice and the food was so good. &lt;br /&gt;Once we finished to have lunch I played with Nuria and Jordi. As you can imagined, I ended up dead! Then, when we were fed up, we went to look for the car and my sister found the car without aerial. Some stupid person had stolen it. My mum got angry, of course... Then, we went to visit Vic and all together we spent a great day. At the end when we were returning home we couldn't hear the radio and we remembered that we didn't have an aerial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summarizing, that day happened everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CU!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-8933350197587449920?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/8933350197587449920/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=8933350197587449920' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8933350197587449920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8933350197587449920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-monday.html' title='Easter Monday'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/Se9n44aQhLI/AAAAAAAAAHE/CDvAocyENX0/s72-c/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+115.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-2063115170033383744</id><published>2009-04-13T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T14:32:39.003-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>- - - - - - - - -</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Well, today I would like to talk to you about something that happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, when I came back from London, my parents, my sister and I decided to go to Girona to buy some clothes. There, in the "Espai Gironès", all went fine until my father wanted to sit down because he was tired and he had enough of shopping.&lt;br /&gt;Some minutes later I went to the bathroom. My problem started when I finished and I wanted to open the door. I couldn't open it and I hadn't coverage on my cell to call for help. I knocked at the door until I got tired. Then, I sat down on the toilet waiting that somebody would miss me. Twenty five minutes later I had an idea; I standed up on the toilet and climbed over the wall since it didn't reach the ceiling. I hurt myself a little bit, but I didn't mine about it. After all that, I looked for my family for half an hour. When I found them, they were in the bathroom yelling; Clara?&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I told them what happened and after being so scared, we laughed like never before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemma, I'm sorry but it's only a joke. I didn't know what could I write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-2063115170033383744?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/2063115170033383744/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=2063115170033383744' title='2 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2063115170033383744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2063115170033383744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title='- - - - - - - - -'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-1883051876705539938</id><published>2009-04-12T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:40:03.825-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>SECOND PART OF MY TRIP (LONDON)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejMtTcITEI/AAAAAAAAAGs/mF5E1gEKV6k/s1600-h/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejMtTcITEI/AAAAAAAAAGs/mF5E1gEKV6k/s320/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+187.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325731638050049090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;On April fifth, we went to Cambridge, the university's city. There, we visited the Queen University which is 800 years old. All colleges are old buildings and they're made of wood and stone. We took a pung, one kind of boat, rowed by a student. He spoke a lot about things including something about Hitler. It was very funny because some foreigners rowed the pung themselves ans some of them couldn't stand up to row and some others bumped into the wall... When we went back home by train, Robin and I went to explore the forest which was next to Paul's house. We found squirrels, rabbits and birds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we went again to The City of London to watch the change of the guard, the Big Ben, London Eye... Besides that, we took a boat along the Thames river.&lt;br /&gt;The change of the guard was nice, but in my opinion, there were too many people and we couldn't see too much. Also, we think there was the Queen, in the Palace, and this is why it was too much fuller than normally. Later on we went where the Big Ben is and we were surprised because is front of it there was a demostration of Indian people. They stopped the traffic and as the time passed by, more and more Indians came to support the rest. At half past one we had lunch in a bar. The worst thing during the day was the food. I hate English sandwiches, they're horrible. After that, we got to the London Eye and we saw all London from the air. At the end of the day the best thing came, we went to have dinner into an Italian Restaurant and we went to watch a musical. THE QUEEN MUSICAL. It was fantastic, it impressed me. With five words; I would watch it again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the seventh we spent all morning in bed since we were extremely tired because of the day before. In the afternoon Robin and me went to Freeport to do some shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last day we woke up early to go to the airport to take our plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summarizing; all of you should go to London, it's been a great experience. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejMSfPb4qI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sCWVekb8CsI/s1600-h/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejMSfPb4qI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sCWVekb8CsI/s320/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+133.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325731177361564322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-1883051876705539938?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/1883051876705539938/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=1883051876705539938' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1883051876705539938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1883051876705539938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/04/second-part-of-my-trip-london.html' title='SECOND PART OF MY TRIP (LONDON)'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejMtTcITEI/AAAAAAAAAGs/mF5E1gEKV6k/s72-c/LONDON+2+(Clara+I+Robin)+187.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-5101501915722025990</id><published>2009-04-09T04:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:42:55.695-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>FIRST PART OF MY TRIP (LONDON)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejNoe1plEI/AAAAAAAAAG0/vL7zcm1PFmo/s1600-h/LONDON+1+(Clara+I+Robin)+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejNoe1plEI/AAAAAAAAAG0/vL7zcm1PFmo/s320/LONDON+1+(Clara+I+Robin)+052.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325732654722159682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;On April the 3rd, Robin and I went to England for five or six days. We took a plane from Girona to Stansted where Robin's uncle was waiting for us. &lt;br /&gt;The first day we visited Robin's grandmother, and all together plus some other members of the family went to have dinner to an Indian Restaurant. There we met another Robin's uncle, his wife... The food was so nice. It was a bit spicy but it was very good.&lt;br /&gt;The next day we woke up at half past seven and we went to the City of London. In the morning we visited the Tower of London and it was lovely. I learned a lot of things about past life and I saw how rich is the Queen because of the jewels and her crown with its diamonds...As well as gold dishes, swords... In the afternoon we took a taxi and we went to the Science Museum. We spent two hours in it and that was going a bit fast. It had five floors. First floor was about space, it had rockets, space suits, the space food and even some strange things like diapers for the astronauts to be able to pee. The second one was about antiquities. The third floor was closed and the fourth was about genetics. The last one was about the future but this was the worst because it only had two tables with games. Moreover there was a separated section with a "Formula one car". There, they showed new gadgets that some people designed after the car. These objects were things to improve technology, also to improve the health.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-5101501915722025990?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/5101501915722025990/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=5101501915722025990' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5101501915722025990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5101501915722025990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/04/first-part-of-my-trip-london.html' title='FIRST PART OF MY TRIP (LONDON)'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SejNoe1plEI/AAAAAAAAAG0/vL7zcm1PFmo/s72-c/LONDON+1+(Clara+I+Robin)+052.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-1393019610584762263</id><published>2009-04-01T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T11:46:20.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='THIRD TERM (1er batx)'/><title type='text'>BECOMING A TEENAGER IS GETTING MORE DIFFICULT EVERY TIME</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SdO2a8M16iI/AAAAAAAAAGM/zdxHnx_rOhI/s1600-h/JOOVEN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SdO2a8M16iI/AAAAAAAAAGM/zdxHnx_rOhI/s320/JOOVEN.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319796158807534114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A teenager suffers a lot of changes. They begin to have to make their own decisions and it's difficult because you don't know which is the correct one so you're confused the biggest part of the time. Also they experiment new sensations and it produces you euphoria, sadness, happiness or anger so they're more sensitive than at any other stage.&lt;br /&gt;Moreover a teenager is pressured by their parents and the society, because they intent to find the right place for you in this world and at the same time their parents put limitations and society too. &lt;br /&gt;All of these become more difficult but different when you're sixteen, because you must learnt to organize yourself and combine studies with your job and other problems like learning to be responsible and growing up. If you don't change with these aspects, then is when your parents are angry with you and the problems arise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now is more difficult being at a teenage stage. The reasons are the following:&lt;br /&gt;Naoadays young people have money and some og them don't know how to spend it and the majority of them waste it. It's also easier to find drug dealers, therefore teenagers try different tablets and all kind of rubbish. Besides we have more freedom than years ago and some young people abuse it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally talking about extremes, is probably that in the adolescence you are easily lid by other people and have anorecia and other mind disturbing illnesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summing up this is a stage of our lives which we all have to go through, but it's very difficult, dangerous and complicated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-1393019610584762263?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/1393019610584762263/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=1393019610584762263' title='2 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1393019610584762263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1393019610584762263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/04/becoming-teenager-is-getting-more.html' title='BECOMING A TEENAGER IS GETTING MORE DIFFICULT EVERY TIME'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SdO2a8M16iI/AAAAAAAAAGM/zdxHnx_rOhI/s72-c/JOOVEN.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-3263888496623882324</id><published>2009-02-18T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T12:40:58.840-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>MY BIOGRAPHY</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was born in Figueres on 19th of February 1992. All my life I have lived in Fortià. I'm the second daughter and I'm twelve years younger than my sister. My parents are Dolors Alfaro and Manel Travé, I'm proud of them. When I was three years old I started to go to school in Figueres. The school was called "Cor Mar". I went to the same school until the last year of primary. These years were when I had very good marks, always ten. Also it was the time when I didn't have any worries and I was completely happy. Then when I went to IES in Castelló d'Empúries I thought that I wouldn't like it because I didn't know anybody and it was a hard change. First and Second of ESO weren't specially good years for me, but in Summer 2006 I experimented new sensations like my first kiss. Also it was the first year that I started going out. I spend all my holidays in La Cellera de Ter with my cousin until I was fourteen. An year later I travelled to California and it's the last trip I have made. Years before I had already visited New York, Niagara Falls, Yucatan Peninsula, Cuba, Granada and Italy. Last year was the first time I worked. I worked to three months in a shop situated in Figueres. It was a great experience because I realise how hard it is to earn money, but in the end I was tired because I couldn't do a lot of things that I wanted to do. For example going to the beach... Now I'm studying first of "Batxillerat", it's difficult and I must work a lot but finally all has a reward. Another important thing in my life is a person who I love very much. You can imagine who is him. In the future I hope to be able to finish my vet's career and safe a lot of animals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clara.&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-3263888496623882324?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/3263888496623882324/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=3263888496623882324' title='4 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/3263888496623882324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/3263888496623882324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-biography.html' title='MY BIOGRAPHY'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-2440862556964703357</id><published>2009-02-04T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T11:03:25.883-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>The differences between the book of Frankenstein and the film.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SYnmdEgU0iI/AAAAAAAAAF0/4Cbiwjd02sQ/s1600-h/frankenstein.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SYnmdEgU0iI/AAAAAAAAAF0/4Cbiwjd02sQ/s320/frankenstein.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299019823678018082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;The first difference is that the creature kills the dogs of the pirates when they scape because they heard a noise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;The second one is that Frankenstein's mother dies giving birth to William and in the book she dies because she is ill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Also, in the film, Frankenstein's dad saves the newly born.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Then, Victor's father prepares a party to say farewell to his son and he gives him a present from mum, that is a diary. In the book it doesn't say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;After that in the film, Frankenstein's teacher shows him a monkey's arm, which moves when you put electricity into it, to help him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Something else is that Henry and Victor are friends after being at University, whilst in the book they are friends before going to University.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Besides in the book, they don't exagerated the smallpox epidemic and in the film they put more emphasis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Moreover, Frankenstain's teacher is killed by a man who doesn't want the vaccine against the smallpox and there is no mention of it in the book. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Another difference is that in the film, Victor cuts the head of the murtherer to use it on the body he wants to make. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Also Frankenstein takes amniothic liquid from a pregnant woman and in the book it isn't mentioned. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Later, in the film the monster wakes up and a heavy door hits him. In the text it doesn't appear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Another comparison is that in the film the town's people think the monster has colera and they want to hit him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Then, in the film we can see the family's father playing the flute in the forest and meanwhile the creature observes him. Besides the family's mother teaches her daughter to read. Here the difference is that in the book she teaches the girlfriend of the son of the family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;The fifteenth difference is that in the pictures you see the owner of the house hits the poor man because he can't pay the rent. The monster helps the poor man and to thank the creature, he invites him to his hause.  Little later the rest of the family arrive and they think that the monster has hit the old man. It is because of this  that they start to hit it. In the book the owner of the house doesn't appear and the family hits the monster because the poor man shouts when he touches the creature's face and they think that the monster wants to hurt him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Moreover, William sees the creature in the forest while playing the flute and he gets frightened and his chain falls from his neck onto the floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Besides Victor rides a horse to go to search for the monster in the ice and in the book Victor rides a sledge. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;In the end the creature pulls the Elizabeth's heart out and she dies, while in the book it strangles her.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we can see in the fim how Frankenstein uses Justine's body and the Elizabeth's head to create the monster's girlfriend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Also Victor wants the new creation and the monster, too. They fight for the body  and it gets burned. In the book Victor destroy the body and the monster kills Henry...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-2440862556964703357?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/2440862556964703357/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=2440862556964703357' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2440862556964703357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2440862556964703357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/02/differences-between-book-of.html' title='The differences between the book of Frankenstein and the film.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SYnmdEgU0iI/AAAAAAAAAF0/4Cbiwjd02sQ/s72-c/frankenstein.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-5792859912515438691</id><published>2009-02-03T07:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T08:00:27.982-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>SATURDAY AND SUNDAY.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;On Saturday morning I went to Figueres with my mum to do some shoping. My mother wanted to buy me a jacket because she said that I needed one, but I really didn't want one. We went window shopping because I didn't like any of them. In the end I saw one, but it wasn't my size. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then I bought some knickers. When I arrived to my home I ate some pasta and in the afternoon I sutudied all the time with Robin for our Catalan exam. At night we went to Cristian's house. There we listened to music, we played a game and we watched a video wich was a work class and we laughed a lot. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Next day my parents, Robin and I went to Figueres to eat young onions with sauce with the rest of my family. We arranged a meeting at my uncle's bar. The bar is in a place where there is a football ground, a basketball court and a ping-pong table. Also a lot of space. We spent the time playing with different things. My cousins and I stall the car a couple of times, but finally I maneged to go backwards and move on first gear. The thing I am proud of is that the car I was driving it was quite big. It was an Opel Astra. The worst thing was that when we returned at home we left the house full of onions smell.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-5792859912515438691?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/5792859912515438691/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=5792859912515438691' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5792859912515438691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5792859912515438691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/02/saturday-and-sunday.html' title='SATURDAY AND SUNDAY.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-2195724352930820519</id><published>2009-01-26T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T11:33:49.348-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>THE HAPINESS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SX4PzOXUV7I/AAAAAAAAAFs/ahhch2t58bE/s1600-h/9-04-08+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SX4PzOXUV7I/AAAAAAAAAFs/ahhch2t58bE/s320/9-04-08+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295687584537925554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;A lot of people have all that they need and more, but they say they aren't happy. There are other people that are poor and they are happy with themselves and with their environment. This is due to people that don't value their things. You can be happy when you aren't ill, when you have a family, when you are loved by someone, when the people who you love are good... So, some men, women, girls and boys think that if they aren't rich or they haven't got money they can't smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my point of view, I consider myself fortunate of having good parents, people next to me who help me when I'm sad or worried about something, food every day, also that I have my own house and I'm never cold. All of this is through my parents work.&lt;br /&gt;To be happy you need some luck because if you are born in a poor country, it'll be more difficult to live in good conditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that the less things you have, the more you realize, the few things you have got in your life is the most important to be happy. Rich people seem to think that they're happy. But money doesn't always bring out the good and the hapiness of people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-2195724352930820519?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/2195724352930820519/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=2195724352930820519' title='1 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2195724352930820519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2195724352930820519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/01/hapiness.html' title='THE HAPINESS.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SX4PzOXUV7I/AAAAAAAAAFs/ahhch2t58bE/s72-c/9-04-08+046.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-1810517078107821728</id><published>2009-01-16T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T12:08:14.391-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>JOKES.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDo7d5LTNI/AAAAAAAAAFc/a4CT210kvAg/s1600-h/sol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 201px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDo7d5LTNI/AAAAAAAAAFc/a4CT210kvAg/s320/sol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291985670494702802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDorYvw6XI/AAAAAAAAAFM/x7Nv15Q9Ij8/s1600-h/telefono.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 198px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDorYvw6XI/AAAAAAAAAFM/x7Nv15Q9Ij8/s320/telefono.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291985394235140466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There were three men going for an interview to England for a job. One was Italian, the other one was French and the third one was Spanish. In the interview they had to make a phrase in English and in the phrase they had to use three colours: yellow, gree and pink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First, was Italian and he said: "When I get up I see the yellow sun, the green grass and I feel in the pink".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The French man said: "When I get up I eat a yellow banana, I eat a green pepper and I watch the pink Panther".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And the Spanish said: " When I get up the telephone goes "green"" green"" green" and I pink it up ans say: yellow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;There were two mafia men were crossing the desert in a Mercedes. Suddenly the car brakes down and one tells the other to take whatever they needed because they had to walk. One takes a bottle of water and the other one takes the door out of its hinges. The other says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What are you doing?" I'm taking the door because when it gets hot I have to wind the window down.&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-1810517078107821728?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/1810517078107821728/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=1810517078107821728' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1810517078107821728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1810517078107821728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/01/jokes.html' title='JOKES.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDo7d5LTNI/AAAAAAAAAFc/a4CT210kvAg/s72-c/sol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-5398465843893732745</id><published>2009-01-14T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T06:15:52.333-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>FORTIA'S PLAYBACK.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDk67DLtLI/AAAAAAAAAFE/_dzv2Q1ENPA/s1600-h/PLAYBACK+FORTI%C3%80+09.+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDk67DLtLI/AAAAAAAAAFE/_dzv2Q1ENPA/s320/PLAYBACK+FORTI%C3%80+09.+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291981263094920370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Last weekend, on 9th of January, the comittee of parties, was formed by the village young people, organized a playback because was the town's "Fiestas". The people who wanted to participate, prepared a song some days before it. The majority of the people were from the town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Well, the first song was interpreted for two people. With it, the public laughed a lot and if I tell you the name of it, you can imagine all the rest; " Di papá". One of the actors, was a woman, Eric Mesas's mum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Then, five "young" boys did a striptease and were left with a red "tangas". I enjoyed myself because I saw the bums of people who I knew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Now I'm going to tell you what I did. I prepared the song: Walking on sunshine, with Ariadna. Here, I wore a purple shirt with leggins and boots. Also Ariadna and me played the guitar in a song: This is the life, which was interpreted by Ariadna's cousin and her friend, Maria. We wore clothes like a boy, including underpants. Finally we, the four girls danced a song by Melendi. It was an improvision because the day before some people asked if we could do another song because only there were thirteen of them. I said yes and I thought what song we could do and in the same afternoon, half an hour before the performance, I taught them the dance. We were very nervous because we didn't rehearse enough, but the best song was Melendi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;After the playback, the people congratulated us.&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-5398465843893732745?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/5398465843893732745/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=5398465843893732745' title='1 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5398465843893732745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5398465843893732745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/01/fortias-playback.html' title='FORTIA&apos;S PLAYBACK.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDk67DLtLI/AAAAAAAAAFE/_dzv2Q1ENPA/s72-c/PLAYBACK+FORTI%C3%80+09.+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-9019625035548441859</id><published>2009-01-10T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T05:55:46.278-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>MY TOWN.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDe-u89jMI/AAAAAAAAAE8/yINUwiBjTng/s1600-h/fortiaxx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 89px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDe-u89jMI/AAAAAAAAAE8/yINUwiBjTng/s320/fortiaxx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291974731497311426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;I live in Fortia, a little town situated in Catalonia. Concretly in Girona's province, between Figueres and Empuriabrava. Fortia has got around 600 inhabitants. Few years ago we knew all the people but now there are a lot of people who I don't know. Some of them only come to my town on holiday and they come from Barcelona and France. Also, there weren't so many bad people and life in the village was more peacful than now. Fortia has got a school, a theatre, a basketball court, a park, a football ground, a swimmingpool, two shops, a bar... I don't live in the town center but I only have to walk ten minutes to arrive there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;There is a group of young people who made things for the village. For example: They do the three kings, prepare parties, the carnaval... They give life to the town. I think that when I am 18 years old I'll be with them. It's important because if nobody do anything, it will be a disaster and Fortia'll end up disappearing. I have got some friends who live in the same town like me and they think that the village is pathetic and always go out of it to other places.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Maybe in the future I'll continue living in Fortia because is quiet, or I'll go to Girona because it's a "big" city but there aren't too many people like in Barcelona, but you have everything you need.&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-9019625035548441859?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/9019625035548441859/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=9019625035548441859' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/9019625035548441859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/9019625035548441859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-town.html' title='MY TOWN.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SXDe-u89jMI/AAAAAAAAAE8/yINUwiBjTng/s72-c/fortiaxx.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-1389646704981798330</id><published>2009-01-09T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T07:45:00.018-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>THREE KINGS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWZGvB-5voI/AAAAAAAAAEk/zHQLj7G-Lpw/s1600-h/6-1-09+Les+planes+i+la+Cellera.+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWZGvB-5voI/AAAAAAAAAEk/zHQLj7G-Lpw/s320/6-1-09+Les+planes+i+la+Cellera.+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288992586193288834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;On the fifth of January, we celebrated the arrival of the three kings. I helped in by being a page girl. I was painted white and I was wearing orange trousers and a blue shirt. Besides I was wearing a shiny turbant. In the afternoon they made the floats and at 8 o'clock all together we did the street procession in Fortià. We gave a lot of sweets to the children. Later we went to the Civic Centre to give children some presents. After that I felt good because I had made some girls and boys a little bit happier. The next day in the morning, Robin, my parents and me, went to La Cellera to give my little cousins the presents. I gave Nuria clothes and a mister potatoe and Jordi more clothes. Then we went to La Corenya ( a restaurant), to have lunch. When we arrived there it was snowing and when we went out it was snowing harder than one hour before. While we were eating we could see how the snow was falling through the window and when we finished eating, Robin and I went to touch the snow and take some pictures like the one at the top of the text. In the afternoon we returned to La Cellera and we went to my aunt's cafe to visit her. At six o'clock my mum decided to leave the town in case it snowed more and they cut the roads off. We said good bye to the family and we got into the car. When we arrived in Figueres, we stopped the car and we went for sandwiches. Finally at home Robin and I watched a film.&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-1389646704981798330?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/1389646704981798330/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=1389646704981798330' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1389646704981798330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/1389646704981798330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/01/three-kings.html' title='THREE KINGS.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWZGvB-5voI/AAAAAAAAAEk/zHQLj7G-Lpw/s72-c/6-1-09+Les+planes+i+la+Cellera.+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-695096338359603723</id><published>2009-01-08T09:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T09:44:31.212-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>THE FOOLS DAY.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWY7TF-TS_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/0lmW3NFD9zk/s1600-h/Inocente.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWY7TF-TS_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/0lmW3NFD9zk/s320/Inocente.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288980011600268274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at one o'clock because the previous night I had gone out and I was tired. When I was in the process of opening my eyes, my mum told me that the day before a man had phoned my home to say that I had to go to the theatre. I started to shout because that day I had to do all my homework... But I descovered that this was only a joke by the expresion of her face.&lt;br /&gt;Later, she phoned my dad and told him that he had the house full of people. My father asked her who was there and she said that they were members of the Andalusian family. He was at the bar and then left. When he arrived, he didn't see any cars in the street and he was puzzled. He came into the house and asked my mother what was happening. She answered him that they went out for a minute to visit the other family who lived in the same town. A few seconds later my mum said that all was a joke and that my father was an innocent person that means he was the fool of the day.&lt;br /&gt;Finally my dad thought he would play a joke to Lluís, my cousin's husband, because he always did it tu us. My mother phoned him and she told him that we were in Vilanna and the car was broken. He started to tell her that he would try to find someone who could help my mum. After that she said: it's not true!. The surprise was when he appeared in my home five minutes later. He told us that he was working in Empuriabrava and he had to go to La Cellera and he took the advantage to visiting us.&lt;br /&gt;Another joke explained by my English teacher is the next one:&lt;br /&gt;A man who was well known in the Montserrat supermarket had been fooled by the cashier. She told him that his wife, in the morning, hadn't paid for the shopping because she didn't have enoug money and owed 110 €. The poor man was nervous and he didn't know what he could say. Besides all the people who wanted to pay were listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, my mum this yera has laughed a lot but the nest year I'll laugh at her. I will prepare something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-695096338359603723?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/695096338359603723/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=695096338359603723' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/695096338359603723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/695096338359603723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/01/fools-day.html' title='THE FOOLS DAY.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWY7TF-TS_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/0lmW3NFD9zk/s72-c/Inocente.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-2842808721049371535</id><published>2009-01-05T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T06:18:53.551-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>"NOCHE BUENA" and NEW YEAR'S EVE.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWZCzE0P6sI/AAAAAAAAAEc/SS-mvFMnuyc/s1600-h/31-12-08+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWZCzE0P6sI/AAAAAAAAAEc/SS-mvFMnuyc/s320/31-12-08+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288988257626876610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;First, I'm going to talk about Christmas Day. All the day I worked and at nine o'clock, my father came to Figueres to pick me up. When I arrived home I found that there were Robin and my cousin. Later, arrived the rest of the family and we started to have dinner. My mum one day before cooked some dishes and all was nice. We ate melon with jam, salad, beef with mashrooms, cake and a lot of "turrons" and "polvorons". When we finished it, the eldest people gave us some presents like money, chocolate, perfume... And the yongest people gave to my grandfather a microwave. Then we played games. My impresion was good because all of us laughed all night, a lot. Now I'll speak to you abous New Year's Eve. I celebrated it with Ariadna, Dídac and Robin. Everyone brought something to eat. I bought "canalons", Ariadna prepared a coctails and the boys bought drinks, grapes, crisps, olives and pudding. We went to have dinner to my grandfather house because he doens't live there at the moment. When we were full of food we played a miming game and the the "UNO". At twelve o'clock we  stood up and we listened to the clock strike twelveland ate the grapes. For good luck nobody choked but in the end we needed cava wash it down.&lt;br /&gt;After that we went to Sant Pere. There, we met a lot of friends ans we danced all night until six o'clock in the morning. We also drank some beer and talked to everybody. I was very happy and I felt wery well. My feet couldn't walk any more and when I arrived at home, I collapsed to my bed. I woke up at 1:30 because my mum called me. I had a headache and all the afternoon I slept in the sofa.&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/1943762219734153363-2842808721049371535?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/2842808721049371535/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=2842808721049371535' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2842808721049371535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2842808721049371535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2009/01/noche-buena-and-new-years-eve.html' title='&quot;NOCHE BUENA&quot; and NEW YEAR&apos;S EVE.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SWZCzE0P6sI/AAAAAAAAAEc/SS-mvFMnuyc/s72-c/31-12-08+016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-7501171658813065677</id><published>2008-12-20T03:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T03:25:37.984-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SECOND TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>My last Saturday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SUzVvVxSpKI/AAAAAAAAAD8/TORq_1IEE88/s1600-h/pacha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 174px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SUzVvVxSpKI/AAAAAAAAAD8/TORq_1IEE88/s320/pacha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281831472273204386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Unluckaly I had to go to work in the same shop than in the summer because with Christmas there are more people... At one o'clock I come back to my home to have lunch and I met there my cousin, her husband and their children. I was so happy because I hadn't seen them for a long time. I played with Nuria and at 3:45 I returned to Figueres to my job. In the shop all was good and then at 8 o'clock I went to Empuriabrava to stay with my boyfriend. When I arrived there I saw all the lights off and I thought it's strange. I come into the house and I found a lot of candles in the floor and under each candle there was a note with nice words. It made me smile and laugh and I kissed him. After that we had dinner and at 1 o'clock in the morning we went to the Capitan's Cabin to meet some friends. Later, all together, we went to Pacha, the discotheque. The only thing that it was good was the happy hour because  you paid one drink and they gave us two drinks. Also because I stayed with friends but the other was bad. I didn't like the music and it was like a picking up club, because there were male and female streapers and they incited the public. At six o'clock, more or less, we left the discotheque. The problem started when we wanted to phone Robin's sister because she had to come and pick us up and Robin didn't have the phone number. Finally we had to pay for a taxi. After all that I have a conclusion: I will never go back to Pacha.&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/1943762219734153363-7501171658813065677?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/7501171658813065677/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=7501171658813065677' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/7501171658813065677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/7501171658813065677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-last-saturday.html' title='My last Saturday.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SUzVvVxSpKI/AAAAAAAAAD8/TORq_1IEE88/s72-c/pacha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-8923731745185810980</id><published>2008-11-19T10:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:54:28.132-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>THE MUSIC CAN CHANGE MY STATE OF MIND.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SSRjl-1ZN6I/AAAAAAAAADE/8KrIauhzris/s1600-h/Llum+i+acci%C3%B3.+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SSRjl-1ZN6I/AAAAAAAAADE/8KrIauhzris/s320/Llum+i+acci%C3%B3.+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270446968103581602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;The music has an inmense power on the people because it makes them feel better if they listen to some music that they like. Also you can listen to sad songs to relax and to feel better. The music can make me forget some things, make me happier and besides can bring memories back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Here in my blog I have a music playlist. In it there are some special songs for me. Each one leads me to thinking different things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;For example:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;-"Numb", it's a song that makes me think about my boyfriend because he taught me about its existence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;- The group "La Fuga" sings songs from the present moment lyrics and they reflect my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;-"Untiled" reminds me of old times and it produces me sadness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;-"Always" from Bon Jovi. I listened to it when I was in La Cellera in summer, concretly inside the car of my cousin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;-"Every breath you take" (Police), represents my sister when she was living at home because she often used to play this tune on her piano.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;-"Pieces" (Sum 41), makes me think about "crèdit variable", when we were in fourth of E.S.O, because a group of people played this song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;-"Cualquier día", is my song of the past. It's going back to me when I used to dress different, maybe worst than now, well, sure...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;-"With me", brings me back to the best memories but it's a little secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;You can listen to all of them in my playlist.&lt;/span&gt;&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/1943762219734153363-8923731745185810980?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/8923731745185810980/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=8923731745185810980' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8923731745185810980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8923731745185810980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/11/music-can-change-my-state-of-mind.html' title='THE MUSIC CAN CHANGE MY STATE OF MIND.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SSRjl-1ZN6I/AAAAAAAAADE/8KrIauhzris/s72-c/Llum+i+acci%C3%B3.+016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-4416018112035328169</id><published>2008-11-19T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:54:07.530-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>Any hobby?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SSRcVhMjM5I/AAAAAAAAAC8/H8jiNx7U3zo/s1600-h/guitarraa333333333333333333333.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 192px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SSRcVhMjM5I/AAAAAAAAAC8/H8jiNx7U3zo/s320/guitarraa333333333333333333333.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270438988688339858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dear Diary!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;You have seen that I have never told you anything about my hobbies. The truth is that I haven't got any of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well, I should have some king of hobby because it is healthy. I should play a sport to be fit but I'm lazy. Also I could take on different hobbies like music, drawing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Last year I went to guitar lessons in Castelló once a week, but now, I haven't got enough time and I am not playing it. It's a pitty but this is the life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I would like to play tennis because even though I don't like it is the sport that I like best. When I was a child I always used to play tennis with my best friend but now I don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Also, there was a time that I wanted to dance in a school but my mother didn't want to take me there because she thought that it wouldn't do me any good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;In spide of this, she said that I danced very well. Now I would like to do this but I have too much to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;If I ever could, I will do it. It¡s my pending subject.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Good Night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-4416018112035328169?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/4416018112035328169/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=4416018112035328169' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4416018112035328169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4416018112035328169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/11/any-hobby.html' title='Any hobby?'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SSRcVhMjM5I/AAAAAAAAAC8/H8jiNx7U3zo/s72-c/guitarraa333333333333333333333.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-4647554188660893712</id><published>2008-11-15T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:55:19.893-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>A GAME FOR YOU!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;CREATURES OF THE NIGHT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;- Banshees are female spirits of the Gallic and Celtic people. A banshee is said to be a woman with long black hair and eyes red from weeping and dressed in a green robe and grey cloak. She always cries and screams like an abandoned child. The wail of a banshee has only one meaning: that a member of the family whick hears it is doomed to die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7vU0c0JXI/AAAAAAAAAB8/8aPx7-14oiY/s1600-h/BANSHE.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7vU0c0JXI/AAAAAAAAAB8/8aPx7-14oiY/s320/BANSHE.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268911755025982834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;- The Duppy: a type of ghost raised by people from the West Indies to perform some service, usually of revenge. A duppy is raised by calling the name of a dead person, can only cause vomiting by breathing on the victim or convulsions by touching him or her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7v0iR50fI/AAAAAAAAACE/oLfs3-ROpHc/s1600-h/dupy.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7v0iR50fI/AAAAAAAAACE/oLfs3-ROpHc/s320/dupy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268912299904193010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;- Abiku; an insatiable demon of the night which preys upon the yoruba people of West Africa. His diet consists of children. He likes plump children and a newborn child. He is as shapeless as smoke, he hasn't got a stomach and he eats continuosly because he never feels full.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7ue6gvBJI/AAAAAAAAABs/vd7OuufOOWo/s1600-h/Demonio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 208px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7ue6gvBJI/AAAAAAAAABs/vd7OuufOOWo/s320/Demonio.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268910828940100754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;-Domovoi and Domovikha: these are Russian household spirits, who lived under steve or doorstep or in the celler. Humans rarely see Domovoi ans never see Domovikha. They resembles a small man/woman covered with silky hair who is a dog or a cat mistake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;If he does appear it may be better for the family to move house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/-/CONFIG%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7wHPbYpYI/AAAAAAAAACM/SsOvkvN1QME/s1600-h/domovoi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 261px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7wHPbYpYI/AAAAAAAAACM/SsOvkvN1QME/s320/domovoi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268912621261202818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Well!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I know about these creatures because I have looked for it in Internet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which one of these do you think is the most frightening creature?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-4647554188660893712?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/4647554188660893712/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=4647554188660893712' title='1 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4647554188660893712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4647554188660893712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/11/game-for-you.html' title='A GAME FOR YOU!'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SR7vU0c0JXI/AAAAAAAAAB8/8aPx7-14oiY/s72-c/BANSHE.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-7457526454121677610</id><published>2008-11-15T07:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:55:48.743-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER'S DREAM.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hello class!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't know what can I tell you today, so I'm going to speak you the Arnold's dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When he was ten yeras old, he had the dream of being the best in the world in something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When he was fifteen he had a dream that he wanted to be the best body-builder in the world and the monst muscular man. Five yeras later, he turned this dream into reality and become Mr. Universe, the best-builder man in the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When he was a small boy, his dream was not to be a big physically, but big in a way that everybody listens to him when he talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He's a very important person, that people recognise him and see him as something special. He had a big need for being singled out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Also he dreamed of being an American. He didn't like being in a little country like Austria, his town. He did so when he was twenty-one yeras old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Finally California is to him a dreamland. It has the absolute combination of everything in the world he has ever looking for. It has all the money in the world there, show business there, wonderful weather, beatiful country and the ocean is there. Snow, skiing in the winter: you can go in the desert the same day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He said: if you have a dream and it becomes a reality, don't stay satisfied with it too long and make up a new dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In conlcusion, I think that this sentence can do think us and if we do this, we'll live a better life, more enterteining...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-7457526454121677610?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/7457526454121677610/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=7457526454121677610' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/7457526454121677610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/7457526454121677610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/11/arnold-schwarzeneggers-dream.html' title='ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER&apos;S DREAM.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-8668559509319653990</id><published>2008-11-02T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:56:15.850-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>EATING SNAILS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SRHdcAGz8EI/AAAAAAAAABc/UFhLs3tMPg0/s1600-h/Novembre.+Rob+i+Cargolada.+064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SRHdcAGz8EI/AAAAAAAAABc/UFhLs3tMPg0/s320/Novembre.+Rob+i+Cargolada.+064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265232912507465794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hi guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Sunday my family will meet to eat snails because my parents tow days ago went to look for them. They found a 1000 of them. In Spain eating snails is a good excuse to get together with family, but I don't like them, but everyone has a good time.&lt;br /&gt;The reason I don't like them, is because I feel sorry for them and at the same time I find them disgusting. They are slammy and ugly. Besides they are pacific animals and they can't defend themselves from the humans. I don't understand how years ago I could eat them.&lt;br /&gt;We will be nine people but only seven we'll eat snails. I have calculated that every person will eat around one hundred and forty two snails more or less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we would eat it without anyt sauce it wouldn't have any taste. Is for this that to eat them seems stupid, the only thing that give them taste is something that we add in it.&lt;br /&gt;In the end the people say that eating snails is very nice and it's false because they don't have a taste, it's the sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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/1943762219734153363-8668559509319653990?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/8668559509319653990/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=8668559509319653990' title='1 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8668559509319653990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/8668559509319653990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/11/eating-snails.html' title='EATING SNAILS.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SRHdcAGz8EI/AAAAAAAAABc/UFhLs3tMPg0/s72-c/Novembre.+Rob+i+Cargolada.+064.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-4860373955577699996</id><published>2008-11-02T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:56:34.830-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>^[A TRUE STORY]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Once a few years ago, a woman was working in a factory and in her break she went to the canteen to have breakfast. She bought a packet of biscuits and a coffee and sat at a table. She look a newspaper ans started to read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost inmidiattely a man sat at the same table as her. She was in a world of her own and both her and the man were drinking coffee and eating biscuits. The man took the biscuits and introduced it in his mouth and the woman did the same. She thought: What a hard face! He is eating my biscuits! I should tell him that he should go to get himself a packet.&lt;br /&gt;After a while there was  only a biscuit left and the man took it and smiled at her which made her very angry. The woman left the canteen very annoyed and went back to the factory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There she saw her workmate and told her how angry she was about what happened in the canteen. Suddenly she put her hand in her overall pocket to look for her hankerchief and she found the packet of biscuits, she had bought in the canteen. You can imagine how she felt after eating the poor man's biscuits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/1943762219734153363-4860373955577699996?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/4860373955577699996/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=4860373955577699996' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4860373955577699996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4860373955577699996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/11/true-story.html' title='^[A TRUE STORY]'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-3012263516257926276</id><published>2008-10-31T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:56:56.873-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>My opinion about the cartoons!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The present day carttons are very violent and nearly all are manga cartoons and the stories are very similar. This is very sad because a few years ago when I was a child there were cartoons more educative than now and were funnier. For example in my time everybody watched Doraemon or the "Enigma"... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They had a different style. Now every history tells us about relationship and they are in fight. Once you have watched one animated film, all the others are the same. Also the animated films that are for little children, they don't speak, only make faces and gestures. I think that in this way the babies don't learn anything and they properly only imitate them and then they can't speak. Another problem is that, there are cartoons which they pronaunce badly as though they would be babies and little child starts to talk in this way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maybe is fashion but in my opinion this is like a prehistory and we make children more stuppid.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This means that at school every time they know less about things. Instead of progressing they go backwards and the education should start when we are babies and T.V should influence the improvement. I believe that politicians should change all that, but they don't want it because ther will lose money.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Here You can see the difference!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=lgoD6dr_CGo"&gt;http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=lgoD6dr_CGo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=ewq9ig_iX8I"&gt;http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=ewq9ig_iX8I&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-3012263516257926276?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/3012263516257926276/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=3012263516257926276' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/3012263516257926276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/3012263516257926276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-opinion-about-cartoons.html' title='My opinion about the cartoons!'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-5066840248756643703</id><published>2008-10-16T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:57:49.887-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>My Dream.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SPdFrDAk8GI/AAAAAAAAABU/K6n_zr-EKyY/s1600-h/teeth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SPdFrDAk8GI/AAAAAAAAABU/K6n_zr-EKyY/s320/teeth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257747695822762082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Yesterday I dreamed about my teeth. It was a horrorific event because I lost three teeth:  one of them was a front tooth and the others were back teeth. In the dream I was sad and felt ashamed because I didn't have my teeth and I was ugly. After that, I said this to my friend and boyfriend and they didn't say anything. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have looked for dreams in Internet, exactaly about losing teeth. There it paid that if you dreamed about this, it meant that I would be afraid to feel rediculous in the real life. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;In dreams teeth represent strength because we used them to bite and chew. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Another interpretation is that one member of the family die or also you have lost money or something valuable. Also it can mean that you will be able to return your debts if you have some of them. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, having said that, I must say that I don't believe in these things but I have been surprised when a member of our family has died. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-5066840248756643703?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/5066840248756643703/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=5066840248756643703' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5066840248756643703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/5066840248756643703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-dream.html' title='My Dream.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SPdFrDAk8GI/AAAAAAAAABU/K6n_zr-EKyY/s72-c/teeth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-6966626471049430249</id><published>2008-10-08T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:58:22.694-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>LONDON!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SOz6aA7LN4I/AAAAAAAAABE/wdoJAvB_wuc/s1600-h/LONDON.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SOz6aA7LN4I/AAAAAAAAABE/wdoJAvB_wuc/s320/LONDON.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254850190066268034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;At Easter I will go to London for a four days or something like that. I don't know it yet, but I think that it will be a great experience. I will go there with Robin and we'll stay with Paul, who is the Robin's uncle. I'm very impatient to visit London because I like travelling. I don't mind the place, always I'm happy when somebody suggests going anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;At the moment we're planning the trip but we don't know which places we'll visit there.&lt;br /&gt;Paul is very glad because we'll go there. He always asks us if we know what will do.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that it will be fantastic. I'm sure of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;By the time, if you have benn there, what do you recomend me to visit?&lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-6966626471049430249?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/6966626471049430249/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=6966626471049430249' title='1 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/6966626471049430249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/6966626471049430249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/10/london.html' title='LONDON!!!!!!'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SOz6aA7LN4I/AAAAAAAAABE/wdoJAvB_wuc/s72-c/LONDON.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-4438987277084559596</id><published>2008-10-08T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:58:50.503-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>My Dog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SOz1L0OahII/AAAAAAAAAA8/NnKPvp4jq5Y/s1600-h/15-16-17+Agst+08+209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SOz1L0OahII/AAAAAAAAAA8/NnKPvp4jq5Y/s320/15-16-17+Agst+08+209.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254844448580994178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Hello!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Today I'm going to talk about my dog. It was born in Figueres and my sister bought it for herself.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;First, the dog's name is Pin, lived with Cristina, my sister, in a flat. Then she went to live in another place and gave me Pin. When the time passed Cristina asked me if she could take the dog back and I told her no, because I loved Pin a lot. At the moment the dog is with me, in my home. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you know the past of it and now I'm going to tell you what Pin usually does. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;She is a Fox Terrier and her instinct is protecting all her things. Also she is very jealous and she must live alone, without anymore animals in the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out when Pin killed Nuca, the other dog that I had. I was so ennoyed with her when I knew what had happened that I didn't see Pin for a month.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Three years ago Pin killed our hens that were in a henpen. The dog jumped the fence and she took one hen and killed it, but Pin didn't eat it, only buried it. My father shouted her. The days went by and Pin forgot this so it did the same again, until it killed nearly all the hens. All of this is of her nature. There isn't anything to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least she loves us and is a loveble dog. &lt;/span&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/1943762219734153363-4438987277084559596?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/4438987277084559596/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=4438987277084559596' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4438987277084559596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/4438987277084559596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-dog.html' title='My Dog.'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SOz1L0OahII/AAAAAAAAAA8/NnKPvp4jq5Y/s72-c/15-16-17+Agst+08+209.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943762219734153363.post-2437212896271544072</id><published>2008-10-02T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:59:13.462-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FIRST TERM (1r batx)'/><title type='text'>Theatre!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hello friends!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Well,&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to talk about one of my hobbies.&lt;br /&gt;In the Fortia's Carnaval I will make a theatre's play!&lt;br /&gt;The name of the show is "No em toquis la flor", but don't think badly ehh!&lt;br /&gt;It is a comical and a funny play. In it, there are six actors. I am a secretary. In the show I will must drink wine so I will be drunk! Also I will speak seven lenguages and I will dress a little more provocative.&lt;br /&gt;By the time I'm going to tell you how starts the history!&lt;br /&gt;It's about relations ships. One Spanish man goes to Sweden and there he meets a Eskimo. They will be friends. The Swedish adult lets his wife have sex with him because this was tipical in his country. The problem starts when the Eskimo wants to go to Spain for visit his Spanish friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question that you would ask yourself is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Eskimo will want the Spanish's wife?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, If you want to know more about the play theatre, you will have to come and see it in Fortià!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1943762219734153363-2437212896271544072?l=clara8t.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/feeds/2437212896271544072/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1943762219734153363&amp;postID=2437212896271544072' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2437212896271544072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1943762219734153363/posts/default/2437212896271544072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clara8t.blogspot.com/2008/10/theatre.html' title='Theatre!'/><author><name>CLARA!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12192782475377719359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKXO-E4dG_I/SrvUTwd40OI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/83AheYjHReE/S220/0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
