Endocervical Squamous Metaplastic Cells

First of all I ask forgiveness for style messy, sticky (but error due to the instruments used and not so much the human factor) and hasty that I used for the rapid string of posts August 10 I had a lot of time, the computer was not mine, but I still felt the desire to save the thoughts that came to mind in days, and so ¡I sacrificed quality for quantity, one thing at a snarl. But now he works de Fino. First of all I tell you that I am really happy, and I got the camera, much sought after, and was the real deal, everything works perfectly, yesterday I did some stupid photo, but also studied some more, and I enjoy. It's amazing how easy it is to make a child happy as they put me with some electronic gadgets.
We come now to the title of this post. Italian, Italian, Italy, a love-hate, pride-Vergne. Through these feelings, all are in the past few days. Shame group of Italian tourists, as Chinese viagganti huge buses, sweaty, oily, crackling. These were the moments when my English was better off spontaneous Separami foreign language from this mass of fools!
I hate it when in class I have to exhume the ashes of our policy, because the chat session is on that, and I hate when I have to tell the situation of Italian cities, the most beautiful and the most uncertain in the world.
But pride, pride when a family sitting at the table with Canadian (brother, sister, sister, kid sister), a neighbor sitting next to you turns the English request, with puzzled look: "French?" And your answer " Yo no soy Italian, "his face relax, aware that an Italian player and one thing a lot more than normal for a Frenchman. Me too called at 2 am to see a striptease for her friend, but she was beautiful oldest of me, like 30 years, and then that evening I found that you still have fun.
infinite love for the infinite capacity to communicate, appreciate the opportunity to make their very first impression, I am convinced that, whatever people may say, is not only a characteristic of mine, but is a feature that we alal our land, too full of sunshine and of beautiful things and beautiful women, to stay at home, alone.