<?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-7921851653953377627</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:30:10.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quest for love and self-knowledge</title><subtitle type='html'>Quest for love and self-knowledge is a story of a Polish woman, who tries to present her own life, emphasizing mainly the emotional sphere, but also mentioning the political, social and economic aspects of living in the heart of Europe...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-8138694558192485712</id><published>2009-05-04T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T23:02:03.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE &amp; POLISH CUISINE (CONTINUATION)</title><content type='html'>Love and Polish cuisine (continuation)&lt;br /&gt;Amelia was greedy for love, affection and sex - she was still a young woman, full of vigour and energy. She needed passionate kisses and spontaneous, joyful and long lovemaking. Who knows, if at that time she hadn't been almost dying of acute stomachache, she might have spent the rest of the night with the guy called Peter. &lt;br /&gt;"He is quite handsome, though too overconfident and behaves like a jerk at times...But on the other hand, does it matter in bed???" - such thoughts appeared in Amelia's mind.However, after a while she said reluctantly a bit,&lt;br /&gt;"Peter, I like you - but I can't see a good reason, why I should have sex with you now... Can't you understand I don't feel comfortable with my stomachache? What I need now is sleep not sex. Think about it, think about me, not only about yourself....if you can do it."&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Pete couldn't do it, he simply wanted Amelia very much, her feelings or pain - it didn't matter, at all. That's why he kept on tempting her long minutes, cherishing the hope that she would give up and jump with him to her warm bed...&lt;br /&gt;No woman had rejected his offer or invitation - for a long time he had been working with pleasure to get an opinion of a nice playboy...and now he didn't want to lose the battle with a delicate and attractive Amelia!!!&lt;br /&gt;But he lost it and left her home together with other guests...Amelia went to bed alone and hoped Pete would understand and forgive her soon. &lt;br /&gt;Next day she felt much better physically and emotionally. She even ate something delicious for breakfast - it must have been a sandwich with cottage cheese, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;Some time later when Amelia was as sound as a fish (as we say in Poland), she thinking for a while about this supper and Pete's behaviour once again... she drank a glass of mead, after she whispered to herself , "Your health".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-8138694558192485712?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/8138694558192485712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=8138694558192485712&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8138694558192485712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8138694558192485712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2009/05/love-polish-cuisine-continuation.html' title='LOVE &amp; POLISH CUISINE (CONTINUATION)'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7744417051480686318</id><published>2009-05-04T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T23:03:03.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE &amp; POLISH CUISINE</title><content type='html'>Love and Polish cuisine...&lt;br /&gt;Amelia has never been a perfect cook. But she managed to learn some recipes, thanks to them she could attract attention of a few male hearts. When she came back from high school, she used to fry placki ziemniaczane (look at some info below) or cook pierogi (with cabbage and mushrooms, strawberries or minced meat), these have been her favorite dishes. Sometimes she preferred more international cuisines: Italian or Mexican, but it doesn't make sense to write about it more. In the USA, Canada, Austalia or Great Britain you have more international restaurants than Amelia in her small Poland, therefore you must know various national cuisines much better than her...Am I right?&lt;br /&gt;Amelia still remembers one evening, during which she prepared a supper for her three friends. She couldn't eat at all, as she was really ill at that time.While the guests were devouring Italian pasta with special sauce, Amelia felt horrible - she wasn't able to look at them, she couldn't stand the smell of food. All the time she asked the guests in her thoughts, "Finish it, stop talking and leave me alone, please". In fact, I should explain, the guests were invited for the supper,but they stayed at Amelia's home long hours. They didn't pay attention to the young woman, who was so weak and looked pale. And she was trying to be a nice host, who behaves according to the Polish rule (expessed in the proverb): "When the guest comes to your home, the God accompanies him". It sounds strange, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;The food must have been really delicious, as one of the guest, Peter, was so delighted that he started to pay attention to Amelia's charms. After a while, he whispered some compliments to her ear and even suggested that they should make love together, as sex is the best remedy for all sorts of illnesses...&lt;br /&gt;If you wanna know, what happened later - read the next post, please. Now I suggest you read some info connected with a very tasty drink...&lt;br /&gt;(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mead)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-7744417051480686318?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7744417051480686318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7744417051480686318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7744417051480686318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7744417051480686318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2009/05/love-polsh-cuisine.html' title='LOVE &amp; POLISH CUISINE'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-1446158561806961130</id><published>2009-04-13T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T11:02:55.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catholic priest (father Rydzyk) and politics</title><content type='html'>It's an article from "Warsaw Voice", which Amelia read several months ago.&lt;br /&gt;News&lt;br /&gt;Fr. Rydzyk Slams Gov't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 December 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Controversial Redemptorist priest Father Tadeusz Rydzyk, founder of the ultra-Catholic Radio Maryja station and television station Trwam, has lashed out at the government of Prime Minister Donald Tusk, whom he accused of "a plan to destroy Radio Maryja."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rydzyk's statement followed the environment ministry's decision to revise an agreement under which Lux Veritatis, a foundation owned by Rydzyk, had secured 15 million euros worth of European Union co-financing under the previous government of Jarosław Kaczyński. The funds are intended for the foundation's geothermal research in Toruń.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rydzyk also lambasted a plan by the Ministry of Science and Higher Education to audit a social sciences and media college in Toruń that is a part of Rydzyk's media corporation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rydzyk appealed to Radio Maryja listeners to write letters of protest to Tusk. A similar appeal in 1999 ended in a spectacular success for Rydzyk: 7 million people supported Radio Maryja's bid to extend its broadcasting license at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Law and Justice (PiS) politicians linked with Radio Maryja, including senator Ryszard Bender and deputy Anna Sobecka, have expressed their support for Rydzyk. "Radio Maryja's continued existence is threatened under the new government," they wrote in a statement, and said they would take part in a street protest in Warsaw "to defend the station."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-1446158561806961130?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/1446158561806961130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=1446158561806961130&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1446158561806961130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1446158561806961130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2009/04/catholic-priest-father-rydzyk-and.html' title='Catholic priest (father Rydzyk) and politics'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-9194732464677919218</id><published>2009-04-05T03:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T11:04:21.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Amelia' reflections on spirituality, love and politics...&lt;br /&gt;It was July 1996, it must have been 1 p.m., but Amelia was still lying in bed - she had the splitting headache and felt melancholic. One of her best male friends, called Arkadius, was going to marry a stupid blonde deprived of brain cells. Why did he choose her?&lt;br /&gt;"What a shame.. and what a pain," Amelia thought, "I had lost him, lost my illusions and love".&lt;br /&gt;She tried to convince herself that his fiancee probably was better in bed or maybe she wasn't such a silly girl, as it seemed. No doubt, Amelia disliked her rival and felt the great despair.She didn't go to church to see the wedding ceremony, because she wouldn't be able to listen to the words of the Catholic priest - which united the couple until the end of their lives.Amelia couldn't help thinking that this marriage will be a disaster, that was another reason why she wasn't at the ceremony. (By the way, she was right - Arkadius was very unhappy then...).&lt;br /&gt;In the evening Amelia met her friends in the small pub in Olkusz and talked about the meaning of wedding ceremonies, divorces, contraceptives and abortion. As you know, Catholics can't make love before marriage, they mustn't take a divorce or even use condoms... They also talked about the essence of spirituality, God's care and other religious issues. After the exchange of different views, which sounded like a quarrel, Amelia asked Peter, one of her best friends, about the role of the Catholic church in politics. &lt;br /&gt;"Well, I can't imagine our political life without some noble priests like Father Jankowski or Father Rydzyk", he said.&lt;br /&gt;"You must be kidding, Peter", Amelia spoke up, " Can't you see that both of them aren't true patriots? They are full of hatred towards Jews, and you call them 'noble priests'???"&lt;br /&gt;"Amelia, calm down a bit, don't you notice that Father Rydzyk takes care about moral values based on the Bible?" Peter replied, " He only preserves our Polish traditions, because Poland should be free from those, who want to buy our land - Jews, German people etc."&lt;br /&gt;The discussion lasted for two hours and led to nowhere...Amelia wasn't able to understand, why educated people mix religion with politics. Why are they manipulated by politicians and some priests greedy for power? Why are they so blind and stupid...?&lt;br /&gt;A few years later she read a very fascinating article, which opened her eyes. And now, my dear bloggers, you are also invited to read it...in next post. &lt;br /&gt;It was published in Warsaw Voice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-9194732464677919218?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/9194732464677919218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=9194732464677919218&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/9194732464677919218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/9194732464677919218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2009/04/amelia-reflections-on-spirituality-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7876814680947471937</id><published>2009-03-15T02:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T04:15:55.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A bit of love to Cracow</title><content type='html'>More history and a bit of love to Cracow.&lt;br /&gt;No doubt, that in spite of her adventurous spirit Amelia often missed her hometown. A lot of memories from her childhood and adolescence came to her mind and she got nostalgic.&lt;br /&gt;"I only I could return to Cracow for good and be a child once again...", she thought.&lt;br /&gt;When she lived in Cracow, she was pretty sure as a kid, that it is the most beautiful city in the world, picturesque and full of life. Much later she visited Moscow, Tibilisi, Budapest, Paris, Luxemburg, Brussels and London. Then she understood that there are many wonderful, amazing places all over the world. But for her, Cracow was still an important city, full of attractions such as unique and historical monuments. Who hasn't heard about the Wawel Castle-where the Polish Kings and Queens lived? Many tourists from all over the world come to Poland to see the amazing churches being the pearls of medieval architecture, the Jagiellonian University, many museums and parks. Amelia wondered, how many people know that the city originated in the 9th century, so it's pretty old, isn't it? &lt;br /&gt;Nowadays Cracow is one of the greatest and the largest cities in Poland (the population: about 800 thousand inhabitants) divided into 18 districts. It's the cultural capital of the state. No doubt, a very vital place in Europe...visited by thousands of tourists from other parts from Poland and from abroad. It's a unique city, arousing admiration among those, who can see it. &lt;br /&gt;No wonder that Amelia has always loved Cracow very much and has regarded it as the most special in the whole world.&lt;br /&gt;You're welcome to Cracow, dear bloggers.  Amelia also recommends Wieliczka, a small town situated a few miles from the city, where you can visit a very old salt mine. If you wanted to see some photos of Cracow and Wieliczka, wait for the next post - some links will be included...&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/7921851653953377627-7876814680947471937?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7876814680947471937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7876814680947471937&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7876814680947471937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7876814680947471937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2009/03/bit-of-love-to-cracow.html' title='A bit of love to Cracow'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-8543426085171119815</id><published>2009-03-10T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T10:56:04.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silver town</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CMAGOSI%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;link rel="Edit-Time-Data" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CMAGOSI%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_editdata.mso"&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt; &lt;style&gt; v\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} o\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} w\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} .shape {behavior:url(#default#VML);} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CMAGOSI%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"&gt;&lt;link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CMAGOSI%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:trackmoves/&gt;   &lt;w:trackformatting/&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:donotpromoteqf/&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeother&gt;PL&lt;/w:LidThemeOther&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeasian&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeAsian&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemecomplexscript&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeComplexScript&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;    &lt;w:splitpgbreakandparamark/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/&gt;    &lt;w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertalignintxbx/&gt;    &lt;w:word11kerningpairs/&gt;    &lt;w:cachedcolbalance/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;   &lt;m:mathpr&gt;    &lt;m:mathfont val="Cambria Math"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbin val="before"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbinsub val="&amp;#45;-"&gt;    &lt;m:smallfrac val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef/&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:mathPr&gt;&lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" defunhidewhenused="true" defsemihidden="true" defqformat="false" defpriority="99" latentstylecount="267"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="0" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Normal"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="heading 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 7"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 8"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 9"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 7"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 8"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 9"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="35" qformat="true" name="caption"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="10" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" name="Default Paragraph Font"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="11" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtitle"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="22" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Strong"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="20" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="59" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Table Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Placeholder Text"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="No Spacing"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Revision"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="34" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="List Paragraph"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="29" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Quote"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="30" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Quote"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="19" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Cambria Math"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:238; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1107304683 0 0 159 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-unhide:no; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	mso-hyphenate:none; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-language:#00FF;} .MsoChpDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	mso-default-props:yes; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 70.85pt 70.85pt 70.85pt; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:Standardowy; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1030"&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapelayout ext="edit"&gt;   &lt;o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"&gt;  &lt;/o:shapelayout&gt;&lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;As you may remember, Amelia worked not only in Nowy Sącz (it was a part-time job),but also in a high school in Olkusz ,a provincial town founded in 1299 by the Polish king Kazimierz the Great. This place used to be called a silver town, due to some silver mines situated a few miles from it. Undoubtedly at that time it must have been quite a rich place, but because of some events, like the wars and economic changes in Poland, the town has lost its position and hasn't developed economically very much. Nowadays, Olkusz is inhabited by 40 thousand people and many of them are unemployed...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"&gt;   &lt;v:stroke joinstyle="miter"&gt;   &lt;v:formulas&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;    &lt;v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"&gt;   &lt;/v:formulas&gt;   &lt;v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"&gt;   &lt;o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"&gt;  &lt;/v:shapetype&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1026" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;" filled="t"&gt;   &lt;v:fill color2="black"&gt;   &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Documents%20and%20Settings\USER\Pulpit\BLOGIT\Blogit%20%20Quest%20for%20self-knowledge%203_pliki\sad_smile.gif"&gt;   &lt;w:wrap type="topAndBottom"&gt;  &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;/o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;When Amelia came there, it was September 1994. At that time the Republic of Poland was 5 years old, Poles seemed to be happy - they had lived in a free, democratic state for five years. The could work in international companies, go abroad, visit the whole world and express their political views without any problems. Unfortunately, some Poles weren't satisfied, there was a big rate of unemployment, what's more an issue of inflation became so threatening, that most people had an impression that money doesn't count, at all. You could earn millions of PLN, but you weren't a millionaire, in fact. Can you believe that all the money could be spent during a few days,as the prices of food, clothes etc, were very high?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1027" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;left:0;" filled="t"&gt;   &lt;v:fill color2="black"&gt;   &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Documents%20and%20Settings\USER\Pulpit\BLOGIT\Blogit%20%20Quest%20for%20self-knowledge%203_pliki\thinking_smile.gif"&gt;   &lt;w:wrap type="topAndBottom"&gt;  &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;/o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;In spite of the difficulties and obstacles, Amelia cherished the hope that the life in her country is gonna be better for her and the rest of Poles. She was patient and knew it was worth living in this small European country.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1028" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;left:0;" filled="t"&gt;   &lt;v:fill color2="black"&gt;   &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Documents%20and%20Settings\USER\Pulpit\BLOGIT\Blogit%20%20Quest%20for%20self-knowledge%203_pliki\regular_smile.gif"&gt;   &lt;w:wrap type="topAndBottom"&gt;  &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;/o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;She saw many perspectives for herself, "I can live a wonderful life here, I needn't leave Poland .", she thought. Why was Amelia an optimist? Maybe it was a question of personality and upbringing? It doesn't matter...what really counts is the fact, that Amelia wanted the personal and professional success and she tried to achieve it in an honest way!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:maroon;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1029" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;" filled="t"&gt;   &lt;v:fill color2="black"&gt;   &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Documents%20and%20Settings\USER\Pulpit\BLOGIT\Blogit%20%20Quest%20for%20self-knowledge%203_pliki\emthup.gif"&gt;   &lt;w:wrap type="topAndBottom"&gt;  &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;/o:wrapblock&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:12;color:maroon;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;To be cotinued soon...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-8543426085171119815?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/8543426085171119815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=8543426085171119815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8543426085171119815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8543426085171119815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2009/03/silver-town.html' title='Silver town'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-2264005638546080496</id><published>2009-02-25T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T10:26:31.925-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi everyone!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'd like to apologize, as I really need to say sorry to all my potential readers. As you have noticed, I haven't written a single word for a long time. The reason is simple - I moved to my mum's home just for winter and she doesn't have the Internet access, so I had to give up writing for a while. However it will change for better, in a few days we are going to have the Internet connection and I'll write again. I miss writing, reading and all of you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Margie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-2264005638546080496?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/2264005638546080496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=2264005638546080496&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2264005638546080496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2264005638546080496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2009/02/hi-everyone.html' title='Hi everyone!'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-1376454448642067872</id><published>2008-10-01T09:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T09:24:22.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You are still on my mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dear Lawrence,&lt;br /&gt;Have you known that you are still on my mind? When all the lights are turned off and I'm lying alone in my bed, I sometimes see your amazing smile and hear your warm voice, I feel your passionate kiss on my lips and then I realize that it's only my imagination, my memory, my obsession... and my eyes are filled with tears, tears of pain and regret. I'd rather turn into stone, stones don't feel anything - no fear, no suffering.&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember our dating in Cracow? We were sitting in the cafe, drinking red wine and laughing a lot. And suddenly you told me, "you must get to know my family in Scotland". I can't forget your words, which gave me hope, thanks to them I thought you loved me true, responsible love. And I said, "why not?".&lt;br /&gt;A few months later,when you knew my heart belonged to yours, you said to me, "Things have changed, my sweetie. I don't know how to put it, but yo know, I'm deeply in love with another wonderful girl. "&lt;br /&gt;"Do I know her?", I asked and my voice seemed so strange and cold. To my surprise, I got a positive answer and you added quickly that you're sure all of us can be friends. It was a shock - this wonderful girl was an American teacher of English (who also worked at NLU in Nowy Sącz). In this way the volunteer from Peace Corps "took" my boyfriend. Did you have an idea that your choice turned my broken heart into stone? No, you didn't.&lt;br /&gt;You went to Scotland next summer, got married and disappeared from my life for good. In a sense, a Polish girl failed with an American one, Poland was beaten by the USA (0 : 1) - it seemed a total disaster - I really felt it this way, Lawrence.&lt;br /&gt;That's the end of my confession - I would be happy if you could read it. If it happened, forgive me my sincerity...&lt;br /&gt;Yours,&lt;br /&gt;Amelia&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-1376454448642067872?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/1376454448642067872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=1376454448642067872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1376454448642067872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1376454448642067872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-are-still-on-my-mind.html' title='You are still on my mind'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-4166914846519771094</id><published>2008-09-24T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T09:23:26.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Lawrence, do you remember me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Although Amelia started one of her new jobs  in her place of birth (Nowy Sącz), in fact she didn't live there - she was staying at her aunt's home. She had lectures only at weekends, that's why it wouldn't make sense to rent a house or a room. As for her grandpas' home, it didn't belong to the family after their death and was inhabited by total strangers.&lt;br /&gt;To tell you the truth, Amelia seemed to be fascinated with a new job, which gave her a lot of new opportunities. Working as a lecturer in National Louis University (WSB-NLU) was a challenge for a young woman with M.A., there weren't many Polish teachers of English there. The staff included mainly native speakers from Great Britain and the USA. Mind you , the Polish teachers didn't earn as much as their colleagues from abroad, though sometimes they were much better educated...&lt;br /&gt;Two of the native speakers paid attention to Amelia - one of them was Neil, a typical Englishman suffering from melancholy or rather depression (fired after a few months), the other one, Lawrence was a Scottish boy of Polish origin. It was Lawrence, whom Amelia liked very much for his physical and intellectual beauty... They spent a lot of time together, discussing political issues, drinking beer and going for romantic walks. It was pretty nice, but it was over three years after - what a pity. It happens even now that he is still on her mind and she wonders:&lt;br /&gt;"Dear Lawrence..do you remember me? I remember you very well."&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-4166914846519771094?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/4166914846519771094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=4166914846519771094&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4166914846519771094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4166914846519771094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2008/09/dear-lawrence-do-you-remember-me.html' title='Dear Lawrence, do you remember me?'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-4815445969385566039</id><published>2008-09-24T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T09:15:18.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't change the whole world...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No doubt, quest for self-knowledge and love requires constant changes, you can't stay in one place too long, you shouldn't have relations with the same people, you mustn't confine your life to the routine...&lt;br /&gt;One sunny summer day Amelia told her parents and sister (who still was such a small girl) that she wants to achieve her goals and fulfil her dreams, ambitions in a new place, among new people. As usual, they had no choice but help her move out, they knew quite well that it's no use discussing this option with their daughter, she wouldn't listen...&lt;br /&gt;This time Amelia seemed to make a good decision, she moved to Olkusz (a small town situated 25 miles from Cracow), where she got a job as a teacher of English in quite a good high school. Moreover, she decided to work as a lecturer in the best Polish College of Business in Nowy Sącz (affiliated to National Louis University in Chicago). Some faithful readers may remember that Amelia was born in Nowy Sącz and lived there with her beloved grandpas for about 3 years. Does it mean that sometimes we go on a long journey and then after many years we need to come back to the place, where we started it? Does it make sense? Amelia was pretty sure that it did make sense and she was so happy that she had made such a choice. No wonder the young woman was looking forward to new experiences, adventures, acquaintances.&lt;br /&gt;"You can't change the whole world my dear Amelia" she thought, "but you can always be yourself and live a happy life, maybe in Olkusz or Nowy Sącz, it will be easier..."&lt;br /&gt;Good luck, Amelia. You will need it more than you could imagine and take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-4815445969385566039?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/4815445969385566039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=4815445969385566039&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4815445969385566039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4815445969385566039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-cant-change-whole-world.html' title='You can&apos;t change the whole world...'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-5482333077476289696</id><published>2008-04-16T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T07:42:52.752-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The value of "no"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...and she said, what she wanted and needed to say at this particular moment. Without the slightest hesitation, Amelia asked him to stop the car, looked boldly into John's eyes (which expressed hope, desire and maybe uneasy conscience...) and whispered;&lt;br /&gt;"Why me? What made you think that I could be interested in you? You take it for granted that I will find you 'a perfect match', but why?"&lt;br /&gt;She sighed deeply and said quietly to herself - "because you are richer...and you want to buy me like a jewel" and then Amelia added;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not alone, though I'm still single - don't you understand it? Loneliness and boring life, it refers to you and your wife! By the way, you didn't mention your children, how would your daughter react if she knew her dad sleeps with her teacher???"&lt;br /&gt;All the time John was staring at this young woman with astonishment, he knew it didn't make sense to answer all her questions, she wasn't able to understand him, his pain - he felt so unhappy with Sophie, but he still loved her and couldn't leave her and their kids. And this Amelia was his chance to feel younger once again, it was important. To his surprise she said "no". What a pity!!!&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes John parked his Ford Escort in front of her house.When Amelia was unlocking her door, John wanted to check his charm once again and asked if he could come in just for a while to talk, kiss and hold her in his arms. Another "no" made him say goodbye and come back to his wife.&lt;br /&gt;"I've been waiting for you for an hour. Did you have problems with your car? How's Amelia?" - Sophie liked asking many questions and John stopped enjoying answering them. He looked at his wife's face - she was still attractive despite some wrinkles - and felt he wanted her, just now...to forget Amelia.&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-5482333077476289696?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/5482333077476289696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=5482333077476289696&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5482333077476289696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5482333077476289696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2008/04/value-of-no.html' title='The value of &quot;no&quot;'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-5156199050193105498</id><published>2008-04-16T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T07:38:40.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be my lover, be my baby...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When you are at a typical Polish party, you should expect the nice atmosphere, lots of sit-down meals and the ocean of alcohol. If the hosts are middle aged or older, you must drink with them Polish vodka, even you prefer wine or beer - the must is a tradition. Who cares, whether you like it or not? No one.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as Amelia sat down at the table next to some older people, the host (Sophie) asked her to drink one symbolic glass of vodka (she knew Amelia hated drinking vodka). So she drank it, then ate some delicious dishes (Polish chicken soup and fried pork chops), meanwhile the guests were discussing political issues and talking about their families. It was quite funny for most of the guests, but not for Amelia (who started looking at her watch after 3 hours and was thinking how to leave the party). Meanwhile the hosts (middle aged couple) telling some dirty jokes, made some strange remarks referring to our modest Amelia.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, my dear, everyone has fantasies - mine are related to Mrs Amelia Plath, you know - what I mean", said her husband watching Amelia's reaction.&lt;br /&gt;"I know, I know. You keep telling me about having sex with her and it's not an innocent joke, isn't it?" replied Sophie,"But if you do it, I'm gonna sleep with Amelia's boyfriend". - said his wife with a provocative voice.&lt;br /&gt;They were talking quite loudly to let all their guests hear this conversation, everyone was laughing, no that's not true... Amelia was so astonished that at first she couldn't say a word. But a minute later she said:&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks for your invitation, I'm having fun, but I have to come back home.Well, I simply need do some important things".&lt;br /&gt;To her surprise, the host and her husband answered, "Oh, no, dear Amelia, you can't be leaving now, believe us - there'll be more fun soon. Stay and see, please."&lt;br /&gt;And Amelia stayed and saw...after one hour all grandpas, uncles, aunts left the party. The host's husband (John) turned on the vrc and they started watching "Basic Instinct".She felt safe and thought that all those remarks had been simply jokes. What a relief, Amelia didn't like strange people, who seemed to have strange fantasies and the wish to fulfil them in a real life.&lt;br /&gt;After the film she decided to leave (it was about 2 a.m), and John took her home. They had been driving for five minutes, when John asked Amelia a direct question,&lt;br /&gt;"Would you like to be my lover?"&lt;br /&gt;And then he answered it himself,&lt;br /&gt;" I hope, yes. If you agree you'll be very happy with me. My wife knows that you are my dream and she let me be with you. Of course, she can't be alone, would you accept her relationship with your friend, Ralph? I'm sure you will!!!"&lt;br /&gt;Amelia thought that his monologue sounded so unrealistic and sick... But she hadn't interrupted him until he added,&lt;br /&gt;"I see you have some doubts, but don't bother - I am a great lover and a very wealthy person. I'd like to keep you for a long time, not for one night, my sweetie Amelia. If you wanna check me, we can go with my wife and your Ralph for a short trip to Zakopane. At night we can sleep together (I mean four of us), what a fun, think about it, please..."&lt;br /&gt;And she thought very quickly and said...&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-5156199050193105498?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/5156199050193105498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=5156199050193105498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5156199050193105498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5156199050193105498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2008/04/be-my-lover-be-my-baby.html' title='Be my lover, be my baby...'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-2215491787107550585</id><published>2008-02-19T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T05:07:15.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Money, money, money</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It's quite probable that I didn't explain that the high school, which was Amelia's place of work wasn't a typical Polish school. First of all, you should know that its students considered themselves as a sort of "business cream". This expression, which is an idiom invented by Amelia, refers to so called - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em class="western"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;newly rich &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;(the people, about whom you can read in"Great Gatsby", for example). And they were right, they were an elite, in a sense. Firstly, all of them were mountaineers, whose relatives were Polish American people. They often went to visit them in New York, Chicago or New Jersey. Thanks to their rich grandpas, uncles or aunts they had a unique chance to see the USA and to earn lots of bucks. In Poland they could establish their own small companies and be successful. That's why the region called in Polish "Podhale" is one of the richest regions in Poland....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Amelia didn't feel very well among the people,as some of them considered her less attractive, judging the value of her bank account, not the power and value of her mind. Of course, they didn't ask her a stupid question; "How much do you earn at school?" They didn't have to do it, as they knew she couldn't earn a lot as a teacher, because this job isn't well-paid in Poland. In fact there was one vital event, which made Amelia realise that she is totally different from the rest of the inhabitants of Nowy Targ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It was a nice day, the end of May was quite warm and sunny. Amelia felt great, though she wasn't happy in love at that time, but as a woman full of hope, she knew "it's gonna be better!". She was invited by the parents of her student to the party. It was a nameday of the student's mum, so Amelia bought a gift and came to their wonderful house. At the beginning it was fun. Who could have thought that such an innocent meeting would have changed into a kind of orgy...???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;More details in next post, be patient!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-2215491787107550585?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/2215491787107550585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=2215491787107550585&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2215491787107550585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2215491787107550585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2008/02/money-money-money.html' title='Money, money, money'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-6041956356775453339</id><published>2008-01-31T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T09:18:53.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Money talks</title><content type='html'>Money 'talks" (intro)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Money, Money, Money - it must be funny in a rich man's world.." Amelia remembered the lyrics of some songs by Abba quite well (when she was a kid, it was her favorite band), the other tune which she liked singing while taking a bath, came back from a different country and was performed by Pink Floyd, it was "Another Brick in the Wall" She hated being another anonymous part of the social structure governed by those who have power. Amelia understood the meaning of the songs very well, and her interpretation seemed to be deep and very moving. for this young woman, the world of the rich and powerful was strange - she cared for money and her position in the society, but didn't need to have everything at any price. She preferred her idealism, though she felt that most of the newly rich despise her and treat her as a hopeless and helpless creature. What Amelia despised in them, was the greed for money and need for power, they wanted to manipulate others.. and possess more and more. What for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-6041956356775453339?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/6041956356775453339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=6041956356775453339&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6041956356775453339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6041956356775453339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2008/01/monwy-talks.html' title='Money talks'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-3670513003299298206</id><published>2007-11-28T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T11:08:10.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I was touching the white clouds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was touching the white clouds...&lt;br /&gt;It was sunny and warm spring, all creatures seemed to wake up after long, snowy winter - mind you the winter near the Tatra Mountains is really severe, though beautiful at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;Amelia has always liked warmth and even thought she would have felt much better living in the southern part of Europe (France, Greece or Spain), where the climate is mild and the temperatures are much higher. But at that time she was staying in one of the coldest places in Poland, maybe that's why she used to get ill quite often?&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to spring, as soon as it came - a mysterious pilot visited Amelia at her place of work. No wonder, she was excited and very happy, when she saw him walking through the hall in her high school. He looked nice with a sincere smile on his face. John came closer and kissed Amelia as if she were really someone important to him or even his beloved. Some students looking at this scene could think, "Our English teacher has a new man..." and it's quite possible that a few of them thought this way.&lt;br /&gt;Two days later Amelia came to the airport situated in the outskirts of Nowy Targ, she didn't feel scared at all. Why? Was she that courageous? No, she simply trusted her older friend to a great extent and was pretty sure that nothing bad could happen to her... Moreover, Amelia needed to feel something extreme, thrilling and extraordinary. So she found herself in the cockpit of a small Russian aeroplane called by Polish pilots "Antek" and she was to be the copilot. "What a fun!!!", she said to herself. John must have had big trust in Amelia's skills, as his theoretical teaching how to fly the plane lasted 10 minutes. Then the plane took off, at first Amelia was observing his colleague and master, but soon she made up her mind and flew on her own..It was a great feeling, she was flying pretty high across the white clouds, she knew she was far away from the earth, from all her day to day joys and sorrows - it was freedom...Unfortunately, after a while Amelia experienced a strange feeling, the severe pain in her stomach, lowering of her blood pressure,her heart seemed to beat less often and weaker. As soon as John realized, what was happening he let her take a rest and landed ten minutes later... When her feet touched the ground, Amelia felt some relief and pride, she did something extreme and she didn't panic.&lt;br /&gt;After three hour sleep in John's bed, she was relaxed and happy.Then they were talking about this adventure for many hours in the company of his fellow pilots. It was great, Amelia was laughing, dancing and telling dirty jokes with them in the pub until the next morning.&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-3670513003299298206?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/3670513003299298206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=3670513003299298206&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/3670513003299298206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/3670513003299298206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-was-touching-white-clouds.html' title='I was touching the white clouds'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-3461442898936026113</id><published>2007-11-28T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T11:01:03.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Close to the sky, far from heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Close to the sky,but far from Heaven...&lt;br /&gt;On Sundays afternoon Amelia used to travel by bus from Cracow to Nowy Targ, she enjoyed the trips (lasting ab.2 hours) as such, but also meeting new people,whom she could talk to. During one of those trips she was sitting next to a handsome and talkative guy, who had only 2 serious disadvantages - he looked much older than Amelia and he was married (happily or not, who cares?). In spite of this, she found him an attractive buddy and the conversation with him gave her an intellectual pleasure. While talking, the man called John mentioned that he was a professional pilot and he worked for the Polish Parachuting Association with the team of the best Polish parachuters.&lt;br /&gt;"It's great, I have never flown a plane as a pilot", sighed Amelia, "but when I was a child, I used to dream about being a pilot or an astronaut, which isn't typical of a small girl, is it?"&lt;br /&gt;"Probably it's quite unusual. However looking at you, I can notice a few other things, which make you an extraordinary person", remarked John staring at her with admiration,"if I weren't married, maybe I would..,mhmm"&lt;br /&gt;"Don't say anything, I know exactly what you mean and don't look at me in such a way, please." she asked, "Coming back to flying...&lt;br /&gt;She didn't manage to finish the sentence, as John interrupted her suddenly and said decisively - "I'd like to invite you to a flight with me next spring. I'll be delighted if you agreed.."&lt;br /&gt;And, as you probably realize, she said, "YES". Her eyes were full of joy, her voice expressed excitement and her heart started beating quicker and stronger. "Next spring,well. It means in two months", she thought, "I hope time passes fast".&lt;br /&gt;The time didn't pass quickly, meanwhile Amelia met a smart intellectual, Andrew - a single man looking for his true love. She dated him only three times. During their first date - they became good friends, after the second meeting Amelia noticed that she liked him more than other male friends. At the beginning of the third date Amelia fell in love and felt that her body needs him, his wonderful treasure, the fulfillment of her sexual desire. They spent some time climbing the mountains, in the evening they ate dinner and drank some Polish beer. When the midnight came, Amelia thought it was the best moment to start lovemaking.&lt;br /&gt;And it started, Andrew turned off the lights in her apartement and sat as close as posible. His hands were trembling nervously while he was touching her breasts hidden under a black T-shirt, his breath showed the signs of excitement and the male treasure became bigger... It could have been quite nice, as Amelia desired a good sex. But when she was lying in the bed and he was so close - she felt a strange smell of his sweat. It made her excitement disappear for good and at this moment she understood that she had to do something to make her free from his hands and the treasure looking for the entrance to her "love pearl"...and she did it very well.&lt;br /&gt;"Stop it, darling,"Amelia cried angrily, "I must switch off the gas cooker"&lt;br /&gt;"O.K., but come back quickly, I can't wait" - Andrew whispered.&lt;br /&gt;And he told the truth he was so excited that he wasn't able to stop the action, but he didn't realize that for some reason Amelia wasn't able to continue it with him..this smell was unpleasant. It made her aware that this (good or bad smell) is one of the most vital factors, which decides about the chemistry between two potential lovers.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Amelia didn't come back to bed, she explained that she wasn't feeling good and went to sleep to the other room. What about Andrew? He tried to ask her for sex a few times that night and couldn't understand what had happened to this strange girl, who stopped wanting him without any good reason.. "All women are bitches", he thought leaving Amelia's apartment.&lt;br /&gt;to be continued in 2 hours.&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/7921851653953377627-3461442898936026113?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/3461442898936026113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=3461442898936026113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/3461442898936026113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/3461442898936026113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/11/close-to-sky-far-from-heaven.html' title='Close to the sky, far from heaven'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-4331148334710066736</id><published>2007-11-16T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T07:06:17.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Market (in Polish Nowy Targ) so far from Amelia's ideal place to live</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There are some places in Poland, whose names start with the word "nowy" ("new") - you know - Nowy Sącz, Nowe Brzesko and Nowy Targ. None of them is new meaning "modern'", all of them are simply very little towns - more or less provincial. They are inhabited by conservative, traditional Polish Catholics, whose main entertainment is drinking cheap vodka, having sex with their wives or lovers on Saturdays. Mind you, that such Polish guys can't satisfy their women after consuming so much alcohol, but who cares...? Maybe the women, who try to find better lovers than their impotent partners, but they sometimes do it in vain. As drinking is a favourite activity among villagers or inhabitants of small, cosy towns.So the impotence is quite popular, though talking about the problem is a kind of "taboo" there.&lt;br /&gt;Have you heard that in Poland (thanks to Catholic morality) sex is a taboo and most parents don't explain anything to their children? The majority of middle-aged people (about 40 - 50 years old) don't talk about their sexual needs even with their partners!!! Such men often sleep with prostitutes, watch porns - but they can't reveal their true emotions in the conversations with their life partners. Amelia often asked herself a trivial question, "How can they live such lives based on double morality?" Soon she understood the problem and answered it correctly. At schools the specialists, who have the right to talk with kids about love (also physical one) are ...priests - which is ridiculous, isn't it? When Sunday comes the Poles from Nowy Targ and other Polish towns attend masses and listen to their preachers, who tell them how to live a good life and gain the best place in Heaven. They pay the priests some money and feel that the God - their Creator and Father forgives them all their sins. So they go home, have dinner with their wives and kids. Then take a nap or sit on their sofas (with a glass of cheap vodka in their hands) and keep on leading the boring, hopeless and worthless lives.&lt;br /&gt;In such a place, Amelia was trying to live fully, her mind was above the minds of ordinary people from Nowy Targ, and it attracted the minds of those who were a bit similar to her...One sunny day she met a wonderful guy, thanks to him she experienced one of the most thrilling adventures - flying the aircraft. Yeah, that's true Amelia was a pilot.... The other day she fell in love with a handsome scientist, who appeared to be a great friend, but a poor lover.&lt;br /&gt; If you're curious, at least just a bit and wanna know some more details - you have no choice, you must wait until Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;To be continued tomorrow.&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-4331148334710066736?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/4331148334710066736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=4331148334710066736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4331148334710066736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4331148334710066736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-market-in-polish-nowy-targ-so-far.html' title='New Market (in Polish Nowy Targ) so far from Amelia&apos;s ideal place to live'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-5570705777694877141</id><published>2007-09-29T03:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T04:03:50.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Animal abuse - my vote against it</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today I'm writing quite a different post. It's my voice and my vote against animal abuse - I see this problem in my country, but also in the whole world...One of my best friends often says "the better I know people the more I like animals" - unfortunately, I am for this opinion, which in a very sad way reveals the fact that human beings as such have more evil in themselves than they should have. According to people who believe in God, we are created in such a way that we resemble Him...looking at many people I doubt it. Of course, there are thousands of very valuable people, but they are in a minority.... I think so, looking at many families - with a problem of child abuse, at many relationships - based on abuse, cruelty, at many societies - in which there are so many crimes, at some nations - who fight in Iraq and in other countries. Our world is filled with cruelty and most people are ready to do everything for power, money etc. , even destroy their own species and nature.If you do not see it, you must be blind.The world of animals is much different - more honest, based on the laws of nature, deprived of stupidity, so typical in human world... If you want to see a better world, admire some fascinating species (reptiles - monitors, lizards and many others like frogs, snakes - look at www.eeeppp.info it is a Polish website, but in the gallery you'll see the fascinating world of wonderful animals.&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/7921851653953377627-5570705777694877141?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/5570705777694877141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=5570705777694877141&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5570705777694877141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5570705777694877141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/09/animal-abuse-my-vote-against-it.html' title='Animal abuse - my vote against it'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-6293393234441313702</id><published>2007-09-28T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T10:07:00.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving out...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Moving out...and its consequences&lt;br /&gt;There are people, who like constant changes and there are people, who avoid them, if it is possible.. The first category comprises those, who enjoy moving out, travelling, finding new jobs and meeting the unknown... The second one consists of those, who adore peace, silence and stability in all spheres of life.&lt;br /&gt;No doubt, Amelia seemed to belong to the first group - she felt wonderful as the member of the elite of brave challengers, bold competitors, creative artists, noble spirits fighting for fullfilment of their crazy ideas and great dreams. She felt as one of them, though in fact, she hadn't done anything extraordinary before. But as soon as she made up her mind and moved to Nowy Targ ("New Market" a peaceful town situated near the Tatra mountains) and began to work as a teacher in high school, some things changed for better. Amelia stopped confining her quest to love experiments. She started developing her artistic and writing skills, which weren't limited to writing love poems,revealing her inner thoughts and hidden emotions. She needed to be more active, that's why with a big enthusiasm Amelia began editing a school magazine (written in English) and organized a school radio station, called " RADIO THE BEST". No wonder, she became one of the most favorite teachers and she had this wonderful feeling that she is needed and liked by young people...not only thanks to her attractive physical appearance, but also thanks to the beauty of her mind.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't mean that Amelia stopped thinking about love relationships at that time... Fortunately, soon she met a few interesting guys... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-6293393234441313702?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/6293393234441313702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=6293393234441313702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6293393234441313702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6293393234441313702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/09/moving-out.html' title='Moving out...'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-4782799607738407674</id><published>2007-08-06T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T08:32:47.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi everyone</title><content type='html'>My dear blogger friends - I must say, I miss blogging - writing, reading and exchanging some views with very nice, intelligent and talented people. I want to say thanks . Especially to Mauro and Lonelyho - I wish I had more time to read them - but i hope they understand that I am working a lot ( from 11 a.m to 10 p.m). everyday - when I have a break, I eat, drink and walk - sitting in the internet cafe is too tiresome for me. But in September I will be blogging without any problems. take care, my readers...&lt;br /&gt;Margie...Amelia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-4782799607738407674?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/4782799607738407674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=4782799607738407674&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4782799607738407674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4782799607738407674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/08/hi-everyone.html' title='Hi everyone'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-4933720144627261674</id><published>2007-07-09T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T05:55:27.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My friends</title><content type='html'>My dear blogger friends, I'm gonna have some rest during summer, that's why I won't publish regularly. I hope you understand. I wish you wonderful summer and take care,&lt;br /&gt;Yours Margie (Amelia)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-4933720144627261674?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/4933720144627261674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=4933720144627261674&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4933720144627261674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4933720144627261674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-friends.html' title='My friends'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-2901623713170892483</id><published>2007-06-22T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T10:17:50.418-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Make love to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As soon as Amelia closed her eyelids, her soul was transferred to the place called "The world of Erotica"...&lt;br /&gt;"What a strange place", thought Amelia looking around, there were so many souls there. All of them seemed to be lost and shocked, in a sense.&lt;br /&gt;My dear readers, I hope you can understand and forgive me - the narrator - this bold scene, it is only a description of a dream, so please, don't ask me to change the category of this blog.&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to my main protagonist and her exciting dream...the place didn't resemble a paradise for pure, innocent girls and boys!!! Unfortunately, or rather fortunately for our Amelia, it looked like... (I'm not sure, how to express it the best not to offend anyone?)..an orgy club in Paris. Lots of human souls (bodies) - it is difficult to say, were making love, they seemed to show all kinds of sexual positions and no doubt, looked like the happiest creatures in the world (or in the dream, as I should say). For the first time Amelia had seen someone having sex (an oral, anal, tantric, tao and classical one)...&lt;br /&gt;No wonder, she felt so excited sexually, that after a while Amelia became one of the participants and began the best of her love dances with the unknown handsome soul with blue eyes and delicate hands, which were touching her intimate parts in a subtle, but passionate way. And she wasn't indiffernt, but touched his body, concentrating on lower parts...with love and attention.&lt;br /&gt;After an hour of making love, she felt they were coming together... What a relief...&lt;br /&gt;When Amelia woke up the following morning, I saw her crying, but I knew she was happy thanks to this amazing and passionate dream...&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/7921851653953377627-2901623713170892483?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/2901623713170892483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=2901623713170892483&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2901623713170892483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2901623713170892483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/06/make-love-to-me.html' title='Make love to me'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-1493483271959551804</id><published>2007-05-25T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T06:34:04.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's talk about sex...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The day before the 1st November 1992, Amelia visited one of her new friends called Bożena, a young teacher of Maths in the primary school, in her place. This pretty blonde lived with her handsome husband (George) in a wonderful detached house. They were a nice couple - wise, open-minded and witty. It was funny to talk with them about politics, day-to-day problems and other less important issues. Exchanging the views enabled Amelia to become more assertive and easy-going. Their conversation referred also to sex, the issue - which in Catholic Poland is still a kind of taboo...&lt;br /&gt;"You know, I don't see, why Catholicism requires strict celibacy before marriage. Priests should realise that it's against human nature, shouldn't they?, Amelia wondered.&lt;br /&gt;"Of course, they should, but my dear, don't forget that our JP2 is pretty conservative and no reforms are possible, thanks to our beloved Pope we have to live according to medieval principles",said George in an angry voice.(He was a Catholic, but he couldn't accept some rules, which he found silly).&lt;br /&gt;"O.K., but I will never understand, why one of the greatest Poles can accept the fact that some priests abuse sexually small kids. He knows about it, but doesn't do anything to change it, added Bożena,"What's more, a majority of Polish priests have their girl-friends or sleep with call-girls. And they make us live in the state of celibacy. It's funny, isn't it???&lt;br /&gt;"I wouldn't say funny, rather repulsive..., but let's not talk about the church, it's a waste of time." said Amelia. "Let's talk abot sex, my friends".&lt;br /&gt;So the rest of the evening they were drinking good wine and talking about sexual positions,oral sex, contraceptives and even about sexual yoga (called "tantric yoga"). If some of their older colleagues from work had listened to them, they could have been shocked...When Amelia came home at midnight, she took a shower and went to bed. As soon as she fell asleep, the young woman entered the world of bold fantasies called "The world of Erotica"...&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/7921851653953377627-1493483271959551804?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/1493483271959551804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=1493483271959551804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1493483271959551804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1493483271959551804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/05/lets-talk-about-sex_25.html' title='Let&apos;s talk about sex...'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7121867736636508983</id><published>2007-05-13T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T11:01:17.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving Cracow - starting a new stage in life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was another wonderful fall, Amelia started working on her thesis entitled, "Quest for love and self-knowledge in the selected novels by Edna O'Brien, Sylvia Plath and Muriel Spark". Meanwhile she got a job in elementary school and her first apartment near Nowy Sącz (the place where she was born, as maybe some of the most faithful readers remember. ). It was a wonderful experience moving to another place, starting a new stage in life. She felt relief thanks to being so far from Bogdan and the past. She even felt excited entering the school - on the first of September (it is the beginning of the school year in Poland). After work she spent her time redecorating her bedroom, living room, a nice kitchen and a small bathroom on her own (with some help of her parents and sister). It's worth adding that Dagmara - Amelia's sister - was at that time her true friend. It didn't matter that Dagi was 19 years younger - they loved and understood each other very well. Maybe for Amelia Dagi was not just a sister, but in a way the fulfillment of her motherhood...who knows.&lt;br /&gt;New friends from work (a bit older than Amelia) and a perspective of meeting a new boyfriend helped her forget about all the sorrows. She felt like an Angel with a broken wing, but the other wing let her fly very high - with a sincere smile on her beautiful face and a joy in her heart...&lt;br /&gt;"It is better and better, I can live fully and remember only the best moments of my life." Amelia thought.&lt;br /&gt;She also came to the conclusion that she should feel grateful even for her suffering..&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks to my pain (and all these guys whom I loved) I am who I am - a mature and strong human being, not just a small, helpless leaf flying in the air..."&lt;br /&gt;Amelia breathed deeply and looked around in the classroom, the group of pupils were staring at her with astonishment and admiration... They liked her as a nice, demanding teacher, and as a young woman who was able to attract the attention of some boys and make them learn English quite well... &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/7921851653953377627-7121867736636508983?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7121867736636508983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7121867736636508983&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7121867736636508983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7121867736636508983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/05/leaving-cracow-starting-new-stage-in.html' title='Leaving Cracow - starting a new stage in life'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-5271786476983384014</id><published>2007-04-26T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T08:28:06.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A slippery road to Heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amelia had to go on living, in spite of the suffering, which poisoned her soul and mind...She seemed to be indifferent with her frozen heart and sarcastic grimace on her face. Her slim and attractive body revealed her inner self expressed by so called "3 P"; pride, pain and prejudice instead of "3 E"; eroticism, energy and empathy.&lt;br /&gt;"The loss of unfulfilled love hurts much more than the loss of fulfilled one," she thought.&lt;br /&gt;"But I can't give up, I must live my life fully as if my loss was a gift, thanks to which I can understand myself and the essence of true love", Amelia said to herself.&lt;br /&gt;It was pretty difficult to exist, study and work as if nothing special had happened. As if Bogdan was a ghost or a vampire, who must be removed from all her dreams and memories in order that Amelia could take a fresh, deep breath of new ideas. It took her some sleepless nights, but it really worked and she started a new stage in her life - putting her feet on a slippery road to Heaven, called Happiness...&lt;br /&gt;To be continued...&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/7921851653953377627-5271786476983384014?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/5271786476983384014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=5271786476983384014&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5271786476983384014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/5271786476983384014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/04/slippery-road-to-heaven.html' title='A slippery road to Heaven'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-6773260037983498758</id><published>2007-04-17T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T06:41:56.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to say goodbye?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was very late and probably Amelia would have slept her wonderful dreams if she hadn't been listening to her dad's monologue for five hours. In fact, she wasn't able to focus on his words, his harsh voice aroused anger in poor Amelia. But Eddie didn't pay attention to his daughter's reactions and feelings. He simply wanted to make her answer two simple questions: "where were you so long?" and "who was with you?" You may wonder if this guy was really mad talking to her daughter this way. Mind you, Amelia at that time was a 26-year-old, responsible and serious woman (not a kid)...No, he wasn't mad - maybe scared, as two hours before Amelia came home, he had answered the phone. During the conversation - he heard sth like that:&lt;br /&gt;"If your daughter doesn't leave us alone, we will send you a parcel and you will find the dust of your beloved Amelia in it".&lt;br /&gt;It must have been a shock for a man like him, as he began shaking throwing down the phone and crying like a small kid. Eddie realized tha Amelia had problems, and as he knew nothing about cults - he thought,&lt;br /&gt;"My little daughter must meet criminals. That's obvious. But how shall I make her tell me the truth? Maybe if I insist she will tell me, yeah she will!"&lt;br /&gt;But she didn't do it at all-all the time Amelia was sitting as if she was paralyzed. She wasn't able to say a word, all of it seemed to be a nightmare. She hated his father for telling her about the phone call. She hated him for revealing the truth, depriving her of illusions. She had to escape from him in order not to get mad. Her imagination let her disappear very quickly... Once again Amelia was sitting on Bogdan's knees on the sofa, feeling his delicate touch and hearing the words of love... But it didn't work long, after a while an angry voice of Eddie woke her from daydreaming. You can't escape from the real world no matter how much you will try, can you?&lt;br /&gt;Next day Amelia met Bogdan just to tell him about that phone call and her hard night, giving him a choice "if you wanna be with me, leave the cult and go with me abroad". And he chose...the cult, sacrificed their friendship, love for the Moonists. Amelia couldn't believe that she wasn't that important...So she said goodbye to her beloved and no doubt, it has been one of the most painful goodbyes in her lifetime...&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-6773260037983498758?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/6773260037983498758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=6773260037983498758&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6773260037983498758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6773260037983498758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/04/how-to-say-goodbye.html' title='How to say goodbye?'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-8901238357617357278</id><published>2007-04-14T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T06:44:34.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is blind, isn't it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amelia felt the warmth of his tongue on her neck, but when his fingers started marking abstract shapes on her silky skin, it took her breath away for a short while..."Don't stop it, please", she whispered in a low voice and let her body begin a wild love dance with the body of her lover. Amelia appeared to be a perfect love dancer and a wonderful teacher of this exceptional style of dancing. When finally their bodies got united in a mystical, magical communion, Amelia heard a strange voice saying, "Excuse me, but have you ordered strawberry icecreams?" She opened her eyes and.. saw the waitress standing at their table... "What a shame, how could I make love here?", Amelia couldn't help feeling some guilt. She looked around and noticed lots of eyes staring at her. She was sitting at the table petrified, her eyes expressed humiliation. No sign of former excitement could be seen on her face. In a weak voice she answered the question of the waitress and asked for the bill.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, that Bogdan also was looking at her with astonishment. For the last twenty minutes he had been trying to explain Amelia all the dogmas of his faith. At first she seemed to be focused on what he was saying, but then looked strange with her eyes closed and a mysterious smile on her face. No doubt she looked attractive, even to him. He liked her so much but couldn't let himself lose control of his emotions, though he dreamt of having sex with her very often. That's why he kept explaining things to her as if he was just her preacher...until the waitress appeared.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as Bogdan paid the bill, they left "Jama Michalika", said goodbye to each other and came back to their homes. It was about midnight, when Amelia opened the door and said hello to her mum and dad... She thought it would be nice to have a relaxing bath and go to bed. She could analyze the whole meeting with Bogdan, their strange sexual encounter in the coffee house, all her emotions, feelings and thoughts. Unfortunately, Eddie (as you remember- it is Amelia's dad) made her forget about all her excitement after he asked his daughter (in an angry voice) to sit down and talk to him about her date...But before Eddie let Amelia say anything, he had started shouting at her..his voice was full of pain, anger and fear...&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/7921851653953377627-8901238357617357278?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/8901238357617357278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=8901238357617357278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8901238357617357278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8901238357617357278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/04/love-is-blind-isnt-it-part-1.html' title='Love is blind, isn&apos;t it?'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-723004860636309508</id><published>2007-03-30T03:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T03:44:40.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love - living in Heaven and Hell (cont.)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was the beginning of fall 1991, (this season of the year is called in Poland "the gold fall") - the days were still warm enough to feel encouraged to go for long walks. The colorful leaves were rustling under Amelia's feet while she was wandering with Bogdan in the park. All the time she couldn't stop thinking how to make him leave the cult. She realized that he was enslaved by other Moonists, but she hoped that as an atrractive and smart woman she would find the way...Looking at them one couldn't deny they behaved like a normal couple joined by a strong mutual attraction, which was physical, intellectual and spiritual. After a long, tiresome walk they went to their favorite coffee house ("Jama Michalika" - in English "Michalik's Cave") situated in Floriańska street. As usual it was crowded with tourists from the States, Japan and Germany - as Amelia noticed people from abroad treated this place as unique, and they were right it was the best Polish coffee house in Cracow at those times.&lt;br /&gt;"What would you like to drink?" asked Bogdan as if he forgot that they always ordered the same white coffee and French semi-dry wine.&lt;br /&gt;Amelia smiled and answered, "You know what I like, you needn't ask me - my dear."&lt;br /&gt;After a while they were sitting on the sofa, listening to jazz ballads and talking about everything but their common future... Bogdan did his best to avoid the subject, as for Amelia - she insisted on revealing their feelings truly and openly. Soon she realized that her beloved simply can't take any responsibility for her and isn't able to solve the problem, at all. Maybe the best idea would be to give up and break off this relationship without future, but Amelia was so deeply in love that she even became blind to the possible consequences of her feelings...&lt;br /&gt;Thinking and acting as a typical young woman full of love and unfulfilled desire, she sat closer to Bogdan, put her hand on his thigh and started whispering the passionate words right into his ear. She knew he was a bit embarrassed when he began feeling the first symptoms of sexual excitement, but it only made her act in a more provocative way... Amelia seemed to forget about the whole world, the people from the coffee house evaporated, the feeling of shame ran away together with them ...&lt;br /&gt;Amelia felt free as a bird, she gave him a long kiss and touched the most precious treasure of man with delicacy. To her surprise, Bogdan who always seemed to be cold, reacted emotionally and also revealed the passionate part of his self...&lt;br /&gt;To be continued soon...&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/7921851653953377627-723004860636309508?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/723004860636309508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=723004860636309508&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/723004860636309508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/723004860636309508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/love-living-in-heaven-and-hell-cont.html' title='Love - living in Heaven and Hell (cont.)'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-8550275238783291645</id><published>2007-03-29T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T04:41:08.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love- living in Heaven and Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As I have promised, I'm gonna show you that Amelia as a young woman was pretty enough to arouse interest, excitement and desire... In Paris she paid attention to the young man who seemed to her a dream partner, she got so obsessed that she didn't notice that this handsome guy (tall, slim, with a very sexual voice and blue eyes) was a very important person among the Moonists. Bogdan, that was his name (there is no English equivalent, unfortunately), also seemed to like her a lot. He was looking at her in a way far from his spiritual phobias, in his eyes she noticed an unfulfilled sexual desire. After coming back to Cracow, Amelia - as I mentioned in the previous post - made up her mind not to meet anyone belonging to the cult, even him ( whom he started falling in love quite passionately)...&lt;br /&gt;However, Cracow isn't big enough to hide, so no wonder some months later Amelia happened to meet some Japanese "friends" of hers just outside Collegium Novum (the site of the Jagiellonian University). To her surprise, they greeted her and invited to the meetings, though she underlined clearly "I am pretty busy and have no time for hobbies". But they insisted so much that my poor Amelia made another stupid mistake and agreed to go there just once, only once. Why didn't she want to listen to her inner voice which kept saying, "Don't you ever go there!"? Tell me, if you understand her a little...Because when I heard this conversation, I was shocked and lost my temper!!!&lt;br /&gt;The reason why she did it, appeared to be quite simple - Amelia thought that this way she would meet Bogdan and would see if she meant anything to him. I must explain that at that time she had no boyfriend, as a sensitive and passionate young woman she needed affection and no doubt, she desired sex. And Amelia as a typical woman wanted to have everything - love and physical pleasure... in her dreams she was talking with him about literature and making love all nights with in an extremely passionate way... She loved the touch of his delicate hands, his warm breath on her beautiful breasts and his subtle tongue on her sensitive skin...I would like to add, that in fact she appeared to be more passionate in real life than in those hot dreams, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;Now the only thing she wanted was to make the dreams come true...&lt;br /&gt;I wonder, if some of you can guess how this relationship between Amelia and Bogdan was developing???&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/7921851653953377627-8550275238783291645?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/8550275238783291645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=8550275238783291645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8550275238783291645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8550275238783291645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/love-living-in-heaven-and-hell.html' title='Love- living in Heaven and Hell'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-2901645028072297812</id><published>2007-03-27T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T10:40:58.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knocking on the Hell's Door (2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I must admit that I like my Amelia so much that I regret that even, when I know something really bad is going to happen, I can't prevent it or protect her in any way. I wish I could be her Guardian Angel, who might be able to tell her the words of wisdom in his subtle voice. I am pretty sure that she would listen to me, thinking that's the voice of her intuition. Yea, women, especially young, like to think that they have this gift. Maybe they have it, but I can't understand why, only few of them take use of this precious gift in their lives??? Maybe some readers of this post answer this rhetorical question.&lt;br /&gt;Let us come back to Amelia and the Unification Church. Can you believe that my sweet girl became so much fascinated with her new friends and so deeply involved in their activities that she didn't notice anything ???...And it is said that only love is blind,as you will see - the blindness also concerns other emotions and other relationships, interactions with people.&lt;br /&gt;It was a wonderful summer 1990, Amelia got an invitation to the trip to Paris, where the International Meeting of Students (belonging to CARP - Collegiate Association for the Research of Principles) was going to be organized. Of course, she went there together with her friend from the studies named Jagoda. Both of them were unaware that CARP was just a branch of the Unification Church. But soon they got enlightened. It appeared that maybe 5% of the whole group from Poland were the students like Amelia (ignorants), the rest, as you see, the majority consisted of the members of the cult. Most of them behaved towards one another in so called spiritual way, which seemed to Amelia funny, superficial and artificial... She felt quite different, she felt normal. Of course, as an ignorant she wasn't able to participate in the meetings for the moonists, meanwhile Amelia and other ordinary Poles visited one of the most fascinating cities in Europe - with most of the historical buildings, Moulin Rouge (with this wonderful square full of sex shops, porn cinemas etc.) Amelia visited this square with Jagoda at night, as they hadn't been to such places before, both of them felt the thrill, sexual excitement - typical of young people who felt so free, so far from homes, so far from Catholic principles...they were happy to be in Paris, a magical, fascinating, mysterious city.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately or fortunately, during their stay Amelia could learn quite a lot about Moonists, their sick beliefs and principles. Moreover she knew that they are considered to be a religious mafia, the organization which manipulates their members to make them "slaves" without free will, but with a sick determination to live for Mr Moon (their leader who claims that he is Jesus Christ himself, what a nonsense - but people believe it!). This mafia is responsible for murders, traffic of drugs, and trade of guns etc, (but who cares - nobody-democratic states let them do what they wish...)&lt;br /&gt;After coming back to Poland, Amelia made up her mind to leave this shit and live her own normal life. It seemed to be easy for her, she didn't realize that her Moonist "friends" won't let her go... It would be a simple story, if it were like that.&lt;br /&gt;If some of you would like to know, what they did to Amelia and why, read the next post. You will find in it sth more about Amelia' love, and her sexual love too....&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/7921851653953377627-2901645028072297812?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/2901645028072297812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=2901645028072297812&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2901645028072297812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2901645028072297812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/knocking-on-hells-door-2.html' title='Knocking on the Hell&apos;s Door (2)'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7355505893905433459</id><published>2007-03-21T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T08:01:36.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knocking on the Hell's Door...(1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As soon as Amelia knocked the front door, a nice and good looking man opened it and invited the girl inside. She found herself in quite a large house crowded with young people, Polish and Japanese. After a while Amelia was given a cup of coffee and some sandwiches, she sat down among the others and started looking around. The place and the people looked really great, so she soon felt relaxed and easy while talking with complete strangers.&lt;br /&gt;During the meeting Amelia was invited by Agnes (a student of English Philology) to work with her staff, she was supposed to write articles for a new students' magazine. No wonder that the girl was delighted - it was the fulfillment of her dreams..., so she presented her ideas, her vision of such a magazine. And she was understood and accepted! Meanwile Amelia realized that the people present at the meeting were not only students but also young scientists. Some of them were keen on martial arts, others in helping children in orphanages - Amelia, a person full of positive energy and enthusiasm, got interested in both activities and decided to participate in them.&lt;br /&gt;It was 2 a.m., when Amelia came back home, tired but happy. She seemed to discover a sense of life. I am not astonished at all, that she didn't have the slightest idea that the place she visited and all the people she met there had a lot to do with the religious cult called the Unification Church. Who could imagine that knocking on the door to that house was in fact, knocking on the Hell's door? I couldn't, as at those times in Poland people knew nothing about dangerous religious cults...&lt;br /&gt;What happened later? If you really wanna know, read the next post!See you.&lt;br /&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/7921851653953377627-7355505893905433459?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7355505893905433459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7355505893905433459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7355505893905433459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7355505893905433459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/knocking-on-hells-door1.html' title='Knocking on the Hell&apos;s Door...(1)'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7653737380562986170</id><published>2007-03-20T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T09:01:34.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradise lost...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was October 1989, the third year of studies... Amelia was still fascinated with reading the world literature in English, watching great films in an original version (at that time it wasn't possible on TV - but students could go to the American Consulate to see them), studying history. Menwhile, one of her best friends (Liz) went to England to work and marry an Englishman (whom she met some time ago in Poland). They didn't get married - as it appeared that she couldn't love him as much as he deserved. Liz left him and moved from a small town to London. There she had a foreign affair with a Pole,to Amelia's surprise, this man was their lecturer from the Jagiellonian University (married, with a child). As a result of this long romance, Liz has her own child with him, though they aren't a couple, they are still friends. I must admit, that I know, Amelia didn't accept the situation, though she liked Liz. She simply couldn't stop thinking of this man's wife and their child..., their quiet suffering.&lt;br /&gt;Amelia decided to enrich the circle of her friends and colleagues. She didn't want to spend her free time only with the students of English Philology. She needed fresh air, new possibilities to develop her self. One day Amelia noticed a poster on the front doors of her Institute, it was saying: "Young, ambitious people full of positive energy are invited to the meeting organized by the editors of a new magazine for students". What Amelia felt reading this text was a thrill, as she really wanted to be a journalist in the future. So in the evening she went to the meeting, which took place in the house situated not far from the centre of Cracow. Nobody (even me) could suppose, that this event will influence Amelia so much and change her and her life for worse... &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/7921851653953377627-7653737380562986170?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7653737380562986170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7653737380562986170&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7653737380562986170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7653737380562986170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/paradise-lost.html' title='Paradise lost...'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-2644316258638755934</id><published>2007-03-14T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T05:41:53.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amelia's quest for the treasury of wisdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;To tell you the truth, Amelia felt quite good as a student - though she wasn't the best one, I admit. Studying English Philology appeared to be hard, but fascinating at the same time. If you haven't the slightest idea, how these studies looked like in Poland, I will give you some prompts. You study : English grammar, aural comprehension, reading comprehension, writing (precis, compositions, essays), conversations, translations, descriptive grammar, historical grammar, pronunciation, intonation, history of English literature, history of American literature, history of Great Britain, history of the USA, methodology, psychology, sociology and so on.(The list of obligatory subjects is much longer). The studies lasted 5 years and then you could get your M.A. Now, the system of education in Poland is a bit similar to the one in the USA (two degrees: B.A. and M.A.).&lt;br /&gt;While studying, Amelia learnt quite a lot, also about herself. At the beginning she didn't even want to become a teacher of English, but soon she got this job - and became a good teacher, as far as I know. Thanks to the studies, she started loving Edgar Allan Poe, Ernest Hemingway, Sylvia Plath. She also liked English Romanticism and modern drama. Moreover, Amelia was keen on history of the world, journalism and making films...&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/7921851653953377627-2644316258638755934?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/2644316258638755934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=2644316258638755934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2644316258638755934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2644316258638755934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/amelias-quest-for-treasury-of-wisdom.html' title='Amelia&apos;s quest for the treasury of wisdom'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-56339419464402363</id><published>2007-03-13T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T09:16:58.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of love and communism, the beginning of studies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Maybe some of you, who have never experienced true love yet, won't believe me, but I know that Amelia (despite her boyfriend's betrayal) has always loved him very much. And Przemek also couldn't stop loving her, that's why he used to visit Amelia and her parents as often as possible. They met as friends respecting the fact that he was married, as if they hadn't realized that it wasn't the solution to this strange and painful situation.&lt;br /&gt;After 2 years Amelia's parents made her break up the relationship with her ex-boyfriend. And she broke up with him, though he couldn't understand why??? He felt unhappy in the marriage without love, but was too young, too immature to divorce with his wife at that time. He wanted to wait until his child (Alexander) was older and then leave his wife and marry Amelia...But Amelia couldn't wait, though she wanted him so much. I wonder what would have happened to her, if she hadn't left Przemek. No doubt, this blog would be quite different.&lt;br /&gt;After final exams, my Amelia went to Business College, meanwhile she began earning her first money working in the Historical Museum of Cracow and then the Academy of Agriculture (she loved both jobs). At those times she was preparing for her studies at the Jagiellonian University, and in 1987 Amelia became a student of English Philology. She was still young, attractive, happy and full of hope... she was thinking about studies and a career.To tell you the truth, Amelia didn't pay much attention to her new boyfriends, whom she wasn't able to love...&lt;br /&gt;Two years later, when she came back from her vacations in Slovakia - Amelia found herself in a different Poland. Her country was no longer a socialist (or communist) state. It happened as a result of "the Meetings at the Round Table" (the talks between the members of socialist government and the leaders of Solidarity). Poland was going to be free and democratic. All of it took place without any fights - it was a kind of peaceful revolution. In this way in 1989 the Spring of Europe started for good.&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/7921851653953377627-56339419464402363?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/56339419464402363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=56339419464402363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/56339419464402363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/56339419464402363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/end-of-love-and-communism-beginning-of.html' title='The end of love and communism, the beginning of studies'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-1031990119554387463</id><published>2007-03-08T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T12:37:58.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love, sex and politics</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was 13th December, 1981 - Sunday, 7 a.m. - Amelia was lying in her bed and dreaming, when suddenly she heard the harsh voice of her neighbour screaming to her daughter, "Damn, switch the radio on - you know, I'm gonna listen to the mass!". To her mother's surprise, the girl wasn't able to fulfil her request... you may ask, why? What happened to the radio of this lady? In fact, nothing happenened. It was simply the beginning of the exceptional "state of war" in Poland introduced by General W.Jaruzelski...&lt;br /&gt;Amelia and her parents were shocked, when they noticed that there are no programmes on TV, on radio etc., it was not possible to make phone calls... Soon it appeared that all the leaders and more important members of Solidarity were "imprisoned", but not in jails, but in special places, which looked like guesthouses. The streets of Cracow and other cities were "guarded" by the police (called at that time "milicja") and the army. Nobody could leave his house after 11 p.m. There was no free press, no right to organize gatherings - but underground, there was a true life of Poland, thanks to help from the USA and some European coutries, people had hope and did their best to survive. So there was illegal, but free press and the illegal demonstrations were organized outside churches. People were often beaten and arrested by the police, but nobody gave up!!!&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Amelia, who was deeply involved in politics thanks to her dad and boyfriend, fell in love again... This time she had an unfulfilled object of her feeling called Arthur (a tall young man with black hair and brown eyes) - at whom she could stare for hours...Apart from Arthur, who did not pay much attention to her, there was another boy called Przemek. He was her true friend, in fact the best friend - they trusted each other and liked so much that after some time they felt sth more important. Przemek and Amelia spent together most of their free time - talking about school, music, politics and friendship. Amelia understood that this tall boy with long hair and dark complexion is extremely intelligent and sensitive, too. When he was caught by the police (ZOMO), arrested, beaten so much - she really sufferred together with him.&lt;br /&gt;When the state of war was finished, Amelia was preparing for her final exams. Meanwhile her mum bore another child - whom Amelia called Dagmara (it was her first and the only sister). Amelia seemed to be so happy, but soon she lost her love, or rather a part of it. It was June - Przemek came to Amelia for her nameday, they were eating cakes, drinking champagne. Sudddenly the boy told her that he must marry a girl, whom he had met some time ago at the party. There was a lot of alcohol there, he got drunk and slept with her. After the event he didn't remember anything, but after a few months this girl together with her mum came to his home... and demanded the quick wedding!!!&lt;br /&gt;I think, I do not have to tell you, what Amelia was feeling, some of you must have felt it - despair, pain and sadness. She was betrayed and felt deserted by someone, who seemed to be the love of her life....One night between him and a girl broke Amelia's heart... &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/7921851653953377627-1031990119554387463?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/1031990119554387463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=1031990119554387463&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1031990119554387463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1031990119554387463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/love-sex-and-politics.html' title='Love, sex and politics'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-6393426095390100573</id><published>2007-03-06T06:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T07:10:21.801-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teachers and students</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As far as I remember, Amelia (who attended high school at that time- from 1979 to 1983) came back to school in a good mood. She felt relaxed full of positive energy after long vacations. Moreover, the girl was full of hope that some things in her school were going to change for better. Mind you, it was a typical school based on strict principles and the relationships between students and their teachers were very formal. It happened, that some teachers were even agressive towards them. I wouldn't say looking at school at those times that it was a rule, but it happened.&lt;br /&gt;According to Amelia, who seemed to be a subtle creature, the worst of all was abusing based on words. She noticed that some words are more painful than anything else. As using abusive words can ruin someone's psyche and lead him (her) to emotional breakdown or to death...If you are interested in this story, let's move together with me to the 80ies and see this scene...&lt;br /&gt;I am standing near the classrom and I am looking at Amelia's teacher of Maths. She has a funny first name (Władysława), and it is the only funny feature of this woman. If some of you, my dear readers - remember the song by Pink Floyd "Another brick in the wall" - you can imagine, how she looks like. It is the woman at the age of 44 (but she seems to be much older), fat and unattractive. As for her personality and teaching skills, I can evaluate them later, when I am sitting near Amelia in the classroom. I feel relaxed and easy, as nobody can notice me, the narrator of this short novel, but I can see everyone - what's more, I can even hear their thoughts, feel their emotions.&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise, the teacher isn't willing to translate anything. but prefers checking her students' knowledge in an abusive way. Not only does she call them names, but also treats them as if they were idiots. Władysława doesn't care about her students' feelings, the only person who counts during this show is her... as if she were a goddess ruling human souls and minds. Such words as justice (meaning justified notes or grades), respect are strange to her. No wonder, that all her students are scared, when they have Maths classes. No wonder, that some of them break down emotionally. No wonder, that one of them commits a suicide.&lt;br /&gt;No wonder, that Amelia wants to leave the school right now (when her boyfriend - the most important love in her life, has to change it, thanks to their teacher of Maths). But her parents don't agree and she stays there until 1983.&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/7921851653953377627-6393426095390100573?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/6393426095390100573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=6393426095390100573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6393426095390100573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/6393426095390100573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/teachers-and-students.html' title='Teachers and students'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-2012523764237600270</id><published>2007-03-01T06:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T06:55:56.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lech Walesa and the Solidarity Movement (1980)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was August, 1980 - Amelia was an attractive teenager, looking for love and a sense of life. As it was the middle of summer, she was on a vacation with her mum and three cousins. All of them were staying in Krynica (situated in the mountains), one of the most popular spas at that time - the weather was wonderful, so Amelia spent a lot of time climbing the mountains and sunbathing. In the evenings she read one of her favourite American books - it was "Love Story", by the way. The time was passing by, when Amelia heard about the strikes in the north of Poland (in Gdańsk and Szczecin) - to her surprise, they resulted in creating the Independent Labour Union called in Polish "Solidarność" (Solidarity). To understand this "surprise", you must remember, it was the time socialism in Poland - no independent organizations hadn't existed (in a legal sense) before 1980. It was the first victory, the wind of changes for better started blowing.&lt;br /&gt;Amelia, who didn't seem to be interested in politics, began thinking much more, not only about her relationships with family, boyfriends, but also about her country - she became a patriot. &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/7921851653953377627-2012523764237600270?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/2012523764237600270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=2012523764237600270&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2012523764237600270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/2012523764237600270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/03/lech-wasa-and-solidarity-movement-1980.html' title='Lech Walesa and the Solidarity Movement (1980)'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-758442356010395697</id><published>2007-02-28T04:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T04:47:26.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amelia finishes her elementary school</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was June, 1979 - Amelia finished her elementary education (at those times there were 8 forms in such schools) - she had a wonderful certificate (A it was the only note she could get!). During the vacations Amelia went with her friends to the Baltic Sea, then visited her grandparents in Nowy Sącz. Meanwhile, she was dreaming about a new love - to tell you the truth, my dear readers, Amelia was a bit too assertive at that age. She neglected the boy, called Johnny, who fell in love with her, because he seemed to her too trivial and shy!!! What a silly girl Amelia was, much later she learnt how to appreciate the boys. But, unfortunately, it took her several years.&lt;br /&gt;Love - why do we so often reject true feelings? Why can we understand the sense of love after its loss? Why are we (or rather, some of us) so stupid and superficial in love, when we are pretty young? And then, when we are mature, sometimes we are closed in the prisons made of our hearts and minds. We feel so lonely, deserted by the people (but we forget about those whom we rejected, neglected, deserted some years ago...)&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/7921851653953377627-758442356010395697?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/758442356010395697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=758442356010395697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/758442356010395697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/758442356010395697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/amelia-finishes-her-elementary-school.html' title='Amelia finishes her elementary school'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-4465030011259302184</id><published>2007-02-27T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T08:04:54.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and be loved!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My dear Amelia was deeply in love at least three times, when she was a schoolgirl in elementary school. Each time it was still a Platonic feeling, though Amelia's thoughts, emotions were far from being naive, innocent and childish. She was romantic by nature, but at the same time she was becoming a bit passsionate - in her mind. No wonder, love and passion come into being in our brain. Of course, Amelia didn't know about it, but she knew what she needed was affection - and she was looking for it in the eyes of three wonderful boys. The boys:Mark and Darek were simply the most handsome classmates, but didnt pay attention to her. For them Amelia was a friend, just a friend... And there was also Adam, whom she met during vacations in the mountains, when she was 14. It was a real love, Amelia felt his adoration, she liked his delicate hands and listened to his subtle voice saying the most vital words- "I love you". The feeling lasted some months, it was quite long, taking into account that I am talking about youngsters.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Amelia lost her grandma (dad's mother), it was the first touch of death and eternity in her life. At that time, some important things took place in the world. Karol Wojtyła (the Archbishop of Cracow) became Pope JPII. And the people in Poland began to cherish the hope that the things are going to change for better...and they were right. The era of socialism was going to end some years later!!!&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/7921851653953377627-4465030011259302184?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/4465030011259302184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=4465030011259302184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4465030011259302184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/4465030011259302184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/love-and-be-loved.html' title='Love and be loved!!!'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7605128842918915038</id><published>2007-02-26T05:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T08:02:56.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living in the era of socialism</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you have never lived in a communist country, you have no idea, how much you have lost...in a sense, of course. It may sound like a nonsense, though it shouldn't!&lt;br /&gt;Amelia was growing up very quickly, thanks to her parents' care, which protected the kid from the impact of evil...evil existing in human minds, hearts or souls. Souls imprisoned in bodies, as Platon used to say. Souls imprisoned in bodies of sinners, as St. Augustine would say. Souls imprisoned in human limits, as I dare to say...&lt;br /&gt;But coming back to Amelia and her mum (Elizabeth) and dad (Eddie), I wanna explain that during the reign of Edward Gierek (in the 70ies) , all of them lived quite a good life. What do I mean by 'a good life' in Poland? I mean good salaries of Amelia's parents (they didn't belong to the Communist Party-they weren't the collaborators, but they had good positions; Liz was a manager and her husband was a vice-president of a big company). Thanks to their hard work, they enabled Amelia to travel abroad to the USSR - ( now Russia, Georgia), East Germany, Romania, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia and Hungary and to spend all her vacations in an attractive way - at camps (at the Baltic Sea, in the Polish mountains). Moreover, Amelia could get from time to time jeans or jackets bought by her parents in the special shops called PEWEX (where you could buy things from the USA, Japan, other western countries - but you had to pay in dollars or in special banknotes called "bony"). Those shops weren't for everybody, as it wasn't that easy to have dollars from a legal source in Poland at that time.&lt;br /&gt;Reading about Amelia's life, you can come to a conclusion, that living in the Republic of Poland at those times was pretty simple. Unfortunately, it was like that only for some groups of citizens, but not for the whole society. People, in general, lived a quiet life, had their homes, had their jobs and knew nothing about such phenomena as homelessness or unemployment. But they were not happy, as they were missing freedom - freedom of speech, freedom of press etc. They didn't have the natural feeling of living in a free, democratic state. They lived in the state, which gave the citizens nearly everything except for human rights. It wasn't that bad as in the USSR or China, of course. But Poland wasn't the ideal place to live.&lt;br /&gt;Certainly, Amelia did know something about it, but as a kid she thought much more about school, love and travelling than politics.Foreign affairs, these were the problems important for a teenager like her... &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/7921851653953377627-7605128842918915038?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7605128842918915038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7605128842918915038&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7605128842918915038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7605128842918915038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/foreign-affairs-and-travelling-abroad.html' title='Living in the era of socialism'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-872265418514947305</id><published>2007-02-22T05:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T05:46:27.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Elementary school</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Elementary school&lt;br /&gt;To tell you the truth, I hadn't seen Amelia until 1971 - that year I was walking in the park situated near a big elementary school (no 115) in Cracow. I remember it quite well, the little Angel with blonde hair and blue eyes appeared right in front of me and looked deeply into my eyes. I will never forget her eyes full of tears, her small body shaking with fear and suffering. I couldn't help the kid, I couldn't. But I felt an amazing feeling that I knew what had happened to her. I knew her thoughts, emotions, joys and worries. Once again I saw myself in this creature called Amelia... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The reason why she felt scared and unhapppy was some kind of disappointment with the cruelty of life. For this small, subtle creature - a teacher hitting a kid with a ruler and a youngster bulling her - were the first people who showed her the dark side of their minds. They were so different from Amelia's parents, other relatives, classmates etc. That is why, she reacted in such a way. She didn't know, that all her life she would be experiencing the touch of evil, she didn't realize that it is a life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&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/7921851653953377627-872265418514947305?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/872265418514947305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=872265418514947305&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/872265418514947305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/872265418514947305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/elementary-school.html' title='Elementary school'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7093241694724776963</id><published>2007-02-21T03:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T05:54:54.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It was love at first sight...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was love at first sight...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us like falling in love, but only some of us experienced the feeling of this crazy (or maybe wild) feeling at the very beginning of our lives. Why do I say so? The reason should be rather understandable or predictable - my Amelia felt this at the age of five.&lt;br /&gt;I remember it very well, I was looking at the little, funny girl with blue eyes and blonde hair with a kind of astonishment. This was a bit strange, I felt as though I knew her all my life... Amelia seemed to be so close, so familiar, she seemed to be me. Me from the past. I know I will never forget this impression, which made me scared or maybe thrilled, excited at that time.&lt;br /&gt;It was June, 1969 and the scene took place outside the kindergarten in Nowa Huta.The girl was sitting on the grass, next to her there were two boys (both were staring at Amelia as if they saw an Angel). They were just the kids, but I noticed a special relationship between them based on something pure, innocent, perfect, ideal, divine...It is difficult to find the words now after so many years. The kids were talking, playing and laughing for, more or less, half an hour. And I was simply looking at them and thinking about love, family, all the people I had lost before I saw Amelia and her two friends. The boys loved her and it was that obvious and natural. And she also loved them in an innocent, childish way. Well, if all of us could love so much...&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/7921851653953377627-7093241694724776963?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7093241694724776963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7093241694724776963&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7093241694724776963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7093241694724776963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/it-was-love-at-first-sight.html' title='It was love at first sight...'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-8747559537324798534</id><published>2007-02-20T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T07:44:15.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kindergartens</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Kindergartens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As you remember from my previous post, Amelia suddenly and happily finds herself at real home with her mum and dad. Maybe some of you won't understand that, in spite of her happiness, she misses her grandparents. As in fact, they acted her true parents in the most vital period of Amelia's childhood...I must admit that even now, though her grandparents are dead, they still live in her memories.&lt;br /&gt;So, my Amelia is almost four years old, she lives in, so called the communist district of Cracow, Nowa Huta. Her flat is situated on the sixth floor (ground?) of the block of flats (I hope, you underdstand my English, which looks more British than American, or rather more Polish?!). What does she do? Nothing special, every day her mum takes her to a kindergarten. As far as I know, Amelia attends three preschools, she likes them a lot, as at that time she meets her first friends and her first "boy-friends". You may be astonished, "boyfriends at this age"??? But you shouldn't be, take into account the simple fact- Amelia, even as a small girl, is extremely attractive, and "it" arouses interest among other girls and boys. And she is very happy, as if she was born to be happy all her life. &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/7921851653953377627-8747559537324798534?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/8747559537324798534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=8747559537324798534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8747559537324798534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/8747559537324798534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/kindergartens.html' title='The Kindergartens'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-7621775386483912056</id><published>2007-02-19T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T08:27:04.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood (2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Moving to Cracow&lt;br /&gt;Well, those three happy years passed so quickly for Amelia , but not for her parents. They really loved their first child, but couldn't live with Amelia. If I say, they were suffering for that reason, I will not exaggerate. Moreover, if I say that the little kid missed her parents very much, I hope you will understand, am I right? IF NOT, imagine the situation- young people in Poland (at that time) did not have a chance to raise a family without serious problems. When they moved to a big city, they had to rent a room in the house, it was not possible to live in such a room with a child. That was absolutely impossible. That is why, young parents often asked their mothers and fathers to bring up their child until they find their own house.&lt;br /&gt;So, coming back to Amelia, when she was 3 years old, Elizabeth and Edward got the flat in Cracow and took her daughter to her new home. It was a positive shock for her, but still it was a kind of shocking experience....&lt;br /&gt;If you wanna know, what I mean and what happened with Amelia in Cracow, read the next chapter tomorrow!!!&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/7921851653953377627-7621775386483912056?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/7621775386483912056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=7621775386483912056&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7621775386483912056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/7621775386483912056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/moving-to-cracow-well-those-three-happy.html' title='Childhood (2)'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-1901396257764589629</id><published>2007-02-19T08:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T08:55:04.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood (1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Childhood (1)&lt;br /&gt;Hello, I haven't been writing for some time - the reason is simple-too much work. So forgive me, will you? Now let's come back to Poland and this little girl named Amelia. When she appeared in the world of human beings, she had to realize that life is not pretty simple, at all. Even for such a small creature like her. Amelia's mummy went to Cracow together with her husband, Eddie. They worked and studied there. And Amelia was left alone..., no, no. IT wasn't like that, she had been staying at her grandparents' home for three years. You probably won't believe me, but for Amelia it was a happy time, really. Even now my Amelia (who is at present 40 years old) enjoys talking about that period of her childhood. If she only could, she would make her dead grandma and grandpa live forever on the earth. As you must know, Amelia loved them as much as possible. And has been missing them for too many years. &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/7921851653953377627-1901396257764589629?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/1901396257764589629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=1901396257764589629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1901396257764589629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/1901396257764589629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/childhood-1.html' title='Childhood (1)'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-3723094548855297235</id><published>2007-02-15T05:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T05:53:21.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The very beginning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Very Beginning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When, where and how did my story get started? These are the questions, you may ask and let me answer them quickly but not too precisely. Imagine the time-snowy January 1964, the place - Nowy Sącz, a picturesque town in Poland (the heart of Europe) and Elizabeth-a pretty,young woman bearing her first child in pain in a municipal hospital. The child, who was born, was later called Amelia...a strange name for a Polish girl, don't you think so? That's the very beginning told without any details, as if there hadn't been problems relating to Amelia's appearance among other humans. Of course, it wasn't so easy, but I'm not sure if you really want to know all the details. Well, I will think it over and maybe will reveal the whole story in the next post. &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/7921851653953377627-3723094548855297235?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/3723094548855297235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=3723094548855297235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/3723094548855297235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/3723094548855297235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/very-beginning.html' title='The very beginning'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7921851653953377627.post-940068033524657224</id><published>2007-02-14T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T03:57:02.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>INTRO</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Intro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hi,&lt;br /&gt;My name is Amelia, a strange name, isn't it? My parents have always thought that this first name will bring me good luck, happiness-but now they know they were wrong, they know it very well...&lt;br /&gt;All my life I have been looking for love and self-knowledge, most of us spend time doing it. But for me this quest has been a dramatic experience, which makes me think there is no love for me. Moreover my quest has resulted in total disappointment concerning the human nature. Now I am pretty sure we, as human beings, are not creatures made by God. There is so much evil in our minds, how would God create such an imperfect being? Would He really say about us- "you are similar to Me, you are good by nature, you are the rulers of this world"? No doubt, God wouldn't have made such a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;But coming back to me-I am going to tell you the story of my life. I wonder if you agree with my statement (mentioned above) after reading this story. Maybe some of you, it doesn't matter. What really matters to me is the story as such. I would like to write it very well to make you be interested in it.&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now! See you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yours,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amelia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7921851653953377627-940068033524657224?l=questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/feeds/940068033524657224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7921851653953377627&amp;postID=940068033524657224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/940068033524657224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7921851653953377627/posts/default/940068033524657224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://questforlove-amelia.blogspot.com/2007/02/intro.html' title='INTRO'/><author><name>Amelia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08004852056242382671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Sp5MwQ9LZF8/SeGIGAoH0GI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OTofR-sdNXY/S220/Gosi%C4%85tko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
