<?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-5584830374002377652</id><updated>2011-07-08T11:51:24.672+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dreamer Abroad</title><subtitle type='html'>The story of an american girl in Italy</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>A Dreamer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12502080182482924966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eTEp7cTSghU/SjuYPdf7XUI/AAAAAAAAABc/ajFsWoikrbo/S220/DSCF3964.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5584830374002377652.post-6738776770866223104</id><published>2009-06-22T15:32:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T15:52:18.117+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Says You Can't Go Home?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Oh man... terrifying revelation today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;All this time I haven't really thought much of going home. I'd just been worried about my 'best friend' cause I was fed up with her and didn't know if I was going to lie and say I missed her or just tell her off once and for all. But now that she's my EX best-friend I haven't been worried too much. Well, except for the fact that we'd tried to co-ordinate our schedules for next year... Hehehe... Oops...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Anyway, as I started thinking about going home, I started realizing that life didn't stop because I left. It kept going. I'm going home to an 8-month-pregnant mother and a new house member that probably knows my house better than I do by this point. My parents, my little brother, our guest, they've all lived their lives these 5 months I've been gone. And I've lived life too. They've changed and I've changed. Even my friends have changed. They lived their lives while I was gone. They've changed. I don't even know how many (if any) friends I'll have when I get home. I've already lost the one friend who promised to never leave me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I've gone through many experiences in this time. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;"&gt;can't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; go back to being who I was. And they've been through their own experiences without me. They &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;"&gt;aren't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; who they were when I left. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So I realized today... I'm not going 'back home', I'm going back to the building I left in my country of origin... but I'm starting a new life. Again. It's terrifying to think about. Nothing will truly be the same. It's like those Find-the-Mistakes games, everything &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;"&gt;looks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; the same, but there are so many differences you fear you'll never find them all... But I don't have to find what's different. I just have to start this new life, with all these people who are the same yet different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Even though I'm scared, I feel... liberated. When I came here I came with a clean slate. No one knew me and that meant I could be anyone I wanted to be. When I return, there will be people who &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;"&gt;knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; me, but I'm not that girl anymore. I'm someone different. I don't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;"&gt;have to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; go back to being who I was because no one else is who they were.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So while I'm afraid, I'm excited as well. I can't wait to see who my friends and family have become. I can't wait to show them who I've become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Never be afraid of change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;~ A Dreamer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5584830374002377652-6738776770866223104?l=adreamerabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6738776770866223104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5584830374002377652&amp;postID=6738776770866223104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/6738776770866223104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/6738776770866223104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/2009/06/who-says-you-cant-go-home.html' title='Who Says You Can&apos;t Go Home?'/><author><name>A Dreamer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12502080182482924966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eTEp7cTSghU/SjuYPdf7XUI/AAAAAAAAABc/ajFsWoikrbo/S220/DSCF3964.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5584830374002377652.post-8781613539070649989</id><published>2009-06-19T15:53:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T16:10:34.057+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Road Goes Ever On and On</title><content type='html'>Everyone has a path they must follow. Whether this is the path we choose or the path we are given is not for us to say. But we are each on our own path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walk our path in darkness and in light, when it is easy and when it is hard. And we walk alone. No one may walk our path but us. But the paths do come together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For better or worse, our paths cross the paths of others. We come together for a time, and we share our experiences along that piece of the road. Sometimes the paths converge for too short a time, and sometimes it seems the paths will never part again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how long or how short a time these paths are together, something changes. For the time we walk our paths together, we share a common experience, and that forms a bond. Even after our paths have parted, that bond remains. No matter where your path takes you, whether we meet again or not, we will always have this bond between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my time here in Italy I have crossed paths with many different people. In what feels like too short a time, our paths will take us all far from one-another. I fear that our paths may never cross again, but those I have walked with these five months have shared a very important experience with me. An experience I can never forget. An experience I do not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this experience, this painful, long, difficult, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt; experience, I have bonded with these people. Even if our paths never cross again, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will not&lt;/span&gt; forget them. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can not&lt;/span&gt; forget them. I have laughed with, fought with, struggled with, cried with these people. And now I cry for them. I cry because I fear we shall never meet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who truly knows? True, it's a long way from Italy to Costa Rica, or the U.S. to Germany, but the road is long, and no one can see the end. In the dark of the night, you cannot see the path beneath your feet, but still you follow it. You may not know where it will lead you, and can never turn back to what you know, but just because something is in the past, that does not mean it is forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will carry the things I've experienced and the people I've met for the rest of my life. To forget even one of them would be a disservice and an insult to the people who have helped me through this wonderfully difficult part of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kecram4pUe4"&gt;For Good.&lt;/a&gt;" - Wicked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vi voglio troppo bene....&lt;br /&gt;~ A Dreamer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5584830374002377652-8781613539070649989?l=adreamerabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8781613539070649989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5584830374002377652&amp;postID=8781613539070649989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/8781613539070649989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/8781613539070649989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/2009/06/road-goes-ever-on-and-on.html' title='The Road Goes Ever On and On'/><author><name>A Dreamer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12502080182482924966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eTEp7cTSghU/SjuYPdf7XUI/AAAAAAAAABc/ajFsWoikrbo/S220/DSCF3964.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5584830374002377652.post-9052173148447997575</id><published>2009-02-03T16:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T16:14:54.540+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Qui in Italia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;So... I'm in Italy... how bout that? I've been with my host family for three days... and I'm not as screwed as I should be. I mean, yeah my host mom understands no English and I speak almost no Italian, and the rest of my family understands little English and my Italian understanding is... ok. Not good, not bad, ok. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;I have to learn Italian ASAP but we knew that already. But now it's more important: I start school tomorrow. My phone, my computer, my Facebook, my EVERYTHING is in Italian right now. And I have my handy-dandy... NOTEBOOK. No. This isn't Blue's Clues. I have my cute little yellow English-Itlian, Italian-English dictionary. Cept now that my laptop is in Italian it tells me all my words are spelled wrong... -.-; oy vey...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;I love my family though. They're really fun, nice people. My brothers act like you'd expect brothers to. (I've never really be around brothers this age though, my only brother is 9)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;No io so... Il mio italiano e malo... molto malo... preferisco il spagnolo. Parlo il spagnolo molto bene. No posso pronunciare l'italiano... luglio (july) no posso dire "luglio"... *gah*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Anyway, I'm alive, I'm here, I got my suitcase back (it got lost on the way to JFK) and I'm being forced to learn Italian. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Tutto e bene. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;arrivederci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;- A Dreamer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5584830374002377652-9052173148447997575?l=adreamerabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/9052173148447997575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5584830374002377652&amp;postID=9052173148447997575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/9052173148447997575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/9052173148447997575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/qui-in-italia.html' title='Qui in Italia'/><author><name>A Dreamer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12502080182482924966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eTEp7cTSghU/SjuYPdf7XUI/AAAAAAAAABc/ajFsWoikrbo/S220/DSCF3964.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5584830374002377652.post-3132368831977759268</id><published>2008-10-25T03:52:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T16:13:16.147+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Intro: Scholarship Acceptance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I received my acceptance for my first AFS scholarship today. I can't believe it!! I'm so excited, I practically screamed while telling my boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm surprised I'm so excited now. My mom had to manipulate me to get me to agree to go in the first place. Now I can't wait for my acceptance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've already been accepted for the Semester program, but there have been some holdups so I have yet to be accepted to a country. I'm so nervous!! I want to be accepted by AFS Italy!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My best-friend is so excited for me. Though we're all a bit irritated that I still don't know my host country. Grr... My dad keeps joking around, saying I'm going to get sent to Bulgaria. But I've already started (or at least tried) learning Italian!! It's such a beautiful language....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm actually rather amazed that all this scholarship really requires is a recommendation and blogging. I was planning on keeping a blog anyway so my friends know I'm still alive. And so they know I haven't totally forgotten about/replaced them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Part of me is really sad to be leaving in the winter. But I'm still so excited!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Well, here goes nothing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;- A Dreamer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5584830374002377652-3132368831977759268?l=adreamerabroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3132368831977759268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5584830374002377652&amp;postID=3132368831977759268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/3132368831977759268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5584830374002377652/posts/default/3132368831977759268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adreamerabroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/intro-scholarship-acceptance.html' title='Intro: Scholarship Acceptance'/><author><name>A Dreamer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12502080182482924966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eTEp7cTSghU/SjuYPdf7XUI/AAAAAAAAABc/ajFsWoikrbo/S220/DSCF3964.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
