<?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-11152418</id><updated>2011-10-31T01:52:26.399+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*My Inner Tunes*</title><subtitle type='html'>Me,myself and i. Thats all i got.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>209</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4004410266068281179</id><published>2009-08-12T20:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T20:53:52.362+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cool.</title><content type='html'>it is the 12th of august, a year later from my last depressing and cynical post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is 10.48pm, only 12 minutes from the internet being cut off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is the 5th week of being in term 3 of year 11, 2009. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is 12 days until my 9th month of being together with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is 19 days until the anniversary of me getting together with you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is nearly over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is almost the end of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is not there anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was never there to begin with. because i still remember you. a picture of you triggers everything from top to bottom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is wrong and unfair to him. how did you do this to me. why is it still engraved in my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is unfaithful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is disloyal. and yet he won't let me go. what's wrong with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is a war between you, me and him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is never-ending. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is corrupting my soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4004410266068281179?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4004410266068281179/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4004410266068281179&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4004410266068281179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4004410266068281179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2009/08/cool.html' title='Cool.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-3876721098004574599</id><published>2008-05-13T10:53:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:16.035+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing to Aspire; I quit</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCkDpALBcQI/AAAAAAAAANI/LqNVoIqS7Us/s1600-h/i+miss+the+way.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199691247731699970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCkDpALBcQI/AAAAAAAAANI/LqNVoIqS7Us/s400/i+miss+the+way.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I've ran out of space. Time. Life&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Be a brainiac and go to &lt;a href="http://peachykeenaddictions.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://peachykeenaddictions.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; instead. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;My vintage circus of a blog has reached it's peak. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;That's it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-3876721098004574599?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/3876721098004574599/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=3876721098004574599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3876721098004574599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3876721098004574599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/05/nothing-to-aspire-i-quit.html' title='Nothing to Aspire; I quit'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCkDpALBcQI/AAAAAAAAANI/LqNVoIqS7Us/s72-c/i+miss+the+way.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-9119094558043868341</id><published>2008-05-12T09:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:16.195+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Within the Shifting time; Why didn't you Disappear?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCem8gLBcPI/AAAAAAAAANA/MV-Vvv84Sbs/s1600-h/your+fuel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199307853181055218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCem8gLBcPI/AAAAAAAAANA/MV-Vvv84Sbs/s400/your+fuel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Everthing you painted is now fading in the waters' of my tears. Realize something- the rain and thunder are here to stay.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;That's it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&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/11152418-9119094558043868341?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/9119094558043868341/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=9119094558043868341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/9119094558043868341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/9119094558043868341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/05/within-shifting-time-why-didnt-you.html' title='Within the Shifting time; Why didn&apos;t you Disappear?'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCem8gLBcPI/AAAAAAAAANA/MV-Vvv84Sbs/s72-c/your+fuel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5981597481214266065</id><published>2008-05-10T23:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:16.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bribing me to Doubt myself; It's time</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCW_uz78xNI/AAAAAAAAAM4/oHfXIB1FNuY/s1600-h/happy+ending.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198772155805648082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCW_uz78xNI/AAAAAAAAAM4/oHfXIB1FNuY/s400/happy+ending.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5981597481214266065?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5981597481214266065/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5981597481214266065&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5981597481214266065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5981597481214266065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/05/bribing-me-to-doubt-myself-its-time.html' title='Bribing me to Doubt myself; It&apos;s time'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCW_uz78xNI/AAAAAAAAAM4/oHfXIB1FNuY/s72-c/happy+ending.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6548667146490147369</id><published>2008-05-08T13:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T13:41:49.065+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle Harry.</title><content type='html'>Hey. Some bad news. My uncle Zahari a.k.a. Harry passed away yesterday at 11.45pm. Takziah to Kak G and family. Wish i was back home.&lt;br /&gt;Al-fatihah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6548667146490147369?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6548667146490147369/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6548667146490147369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6548667146490147369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6548667146490147369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/05/uncle-harry.html' title='Uncle Harry.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8609595988497626360</id><published>2008-05-07T05:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:16.582+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive me, first Love; I'm too Tired</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCDOn_TVbFI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8gbhQa_TN_I/s1600-h/bed.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197381156388301906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCDOn_TVbFI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8gbhQa_TN_I/s400/bed.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This place is my hell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;That's it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8609595988497626360?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8609595988497626360/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8609595988497626360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8609595988497626360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8609595988497626360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/05/feels-ike-bedtime-i-know.html' title='Forgive me, first Love; I&apos;m too Tired'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SCDOn_TVbFI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8gbhQa_TN_I/s72-c/bed.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1081853969821172734</id><published>2008-05-02T06:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:16.835+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll do Anything spontaneously; You know that I would</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBpCQvTVbEI/AAAAAAAAAMY/pOKY_osYLIc/s1600-h/photo+album.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195537975468190786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBpCQvTVbEI/AAAAAAAAAMY/pOKY_osYLIc/s400/photo+album.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;That's all i can do. Just look at photos and go back in time to days that have gone by. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I hate slow days. They go on forever. Foreeevvvveeerrrr&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;That's it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1081853969821172734?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1081853969821172734/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1081853969821172734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1081853969821172734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1081853969821172734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/05/ill-do-anything-spontaneously-you-know.html' title='I&apos;ll do Anything spontaneously; You know that I would'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBpCQvTVbEI/AAAAAAAAAMY/pOKY_osYLIc/s72-c/photo+album.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2863317252094822211</id><published>2008-05-01T05:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:17.097+08:00</updated><title type='text'>As we Walk along; Just you and Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBjlnvTVbDI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dS2uTNfNXJs/s1600-h/fun+prohibited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195154641047088178" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBjlnvTVbDI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dS2uTNfNXJs/s400/fun+prohibited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey Sayang,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy birthday, yea? Have fun.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;That's it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2863317252094822211?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2863317252094822211/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2863317252094822211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2863317252094822211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2863317252094822211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/05/as-we-walk-along-just-you-and-me.html' title='As we Walk along; Just you and Me'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBjlnvTVbDI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dS2uTNfNXJs/s72-c/fun+prohibited.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-54028821648060857</id><published>2008-04-27T07:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:17.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Share some Cover; Shade some Skin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBO0v_TVbCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Gj1ptBeWZ0Q/s1600-h/The+Way+I+Was.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193693531827694626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBO0v_TVbCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Gj1ptBeWZ0Q/s400/The+Way+I+Was.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-54028821648060857?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/54028821648060857/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=54028821648060857&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/54028821648060857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/54028821648060857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/04/share-some-cover-shade-some-skin.html' title='Share some Cover; Shade some Skin'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SBO0v_TVbCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Gj1ptBeWZ0Q/s72-c/The+Way+I+Was.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7329638427110396165</id><published>2008-04-19T20:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:17.405+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doodles; Many more</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAnpzm-elNI/AAAAAAAAAMA/V-lUrT67Elg/s1600-h/doodles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190937118366405842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAnpzm-elNI/AAAAAAAAAMA/V-lUrT67Elg/s400/doodles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Everyday,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With every worthless word, we get so far away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The distance between us makes it hard to stay,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nothing lasts forever but be honest, babe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7329638427110396165?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7329638427110396165/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7329638427110396165&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7329638427110396165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7329638427110396165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/04/doodles-many-more.html' title='Doodles; Many more'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAnpzm-elNI/AAAAAAAAAMA/V-lUrT67Elg/s72-c/doodles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2748567557415690015</id><published>2008-04-18T23:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:17.525+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Suffocate; I'll do Anything</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAi-l6PV2CI/AAAAAAAAAL4/_tjcmGzN8l4/s1600-h/Evolve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190608129042536482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAi-l6PV2CI/AAAAAAAAAL4/_tjcmGzN8l4/s400/Evolve.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2748567557415690015?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2748567557415690015/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2748567557415690015&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2748567557415690015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2748567557415690015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/04/suffocate-ill-do-anything.html' title='Suffocate; I&apos;ll do Anything'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAi-l6PV2CI/AAAAAAAAAL4/_tjcmGzN8l4/s72-c/Evolve.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-504456227257541095</id><published>2008-04-17T22:28:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:17.814+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't make me cry; Be Honest, babe</title><content type='html'>This goes out to the 'you' in my life. Though that skinny lazy bum doesn't read my blog but if anyday, sometime in this millenium, he decides to find me on google, he'll definately have to come across this blog of mine. Well- back to my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190229501905590290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAdmO6PV2BI/AAAAAAAAALw/wqpGxrSBQjs/s400/z78856018.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To you, sweets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I had a dream of you yesterday. Lets just say the day before yesterday seeing that it's midnight/Friday morning. That dream of mine made me wake up from 3.30am and i stayed up until 6.02am. Yes, i checked the clock. Anyway. In that dream, i saw you. You, there standing tall. With the light just streaming at you and i thought- wow, that's you. It was until my view, a girl walked towards you. She was p.h.a.t.. Yes, pretty hot and tempting. Sounds so cliche i know but bear with me here, okay? She was skinny. And beautiful. Like any other girl just trying to get their hands on you. And there she was. She was kissing you. Kissing.you.. In a public area, on a sunny day. You and her. Both. Together. Kissing. It was to my horror that i actually witnessed such an event. You saw me after. You didn't do anything. You watched my tears fall from my eyes. Drop after drop. I ran. I ran as fast as i could. Just to get away from you. You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I ran and found my sister. She was with her boyfriend. I was crying so hard and all i remembered saying was- can we leave? please, i want to leave. I said that over and over. Those were the only words i said in between my tears of disappointment. We left the vicinity and arrived at another public area. Somewhere less crowded but bigger. All i remember was that i was crying too hard to even notice that it took only minutes to get to our next destination. Thanks to my sister's boyfriend, he drove and didn't say a thing. My sister, to her dismay, was on my knees trying to squeeze an explaination out of me. I couldn't. I just couldn't. And then i woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I tossed and i turned. I was awake in bed. For how many hours? I was awake. I couldn't close my eyes. I was mortified. And embarrased. And ashamed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hated myself for ever seeing him in my eyes as 'the' guy. I hated him. I hated me. I hated everything that had to do with him and me. I just hated it all. I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now-i feel okay. But that thought will always send shivers down my spine and shake me until i'm weak at the knees. You can't blame me can you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm back in Melb again. No i'm not in Geelong. I had a respiratory infection. O correction- I have. Anyway. I was given antibiotics and was put in Kennedy (the Medical Centre at GGS). I wasn't allowed to go on the Year 10 camps and so i'm back in Melb. End of story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Wish me health. Good health. Please.i'm begging you.please &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-504456227257541095?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/504456227257541095/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=504456227257541095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/504456227257541095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/504456227257541095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/04/dont-make-me-cry-be-honest-babe.html' title='Don&apos;t make me cry; Be Honest, babe'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAdmO6PV2BI/AAAAAAAAALw/wqpGxrSBQjs/s72-c/z78856018.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2624294988321638097</id><published>2008-04-15T08:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:18.012+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hide my face; Don't look at me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAP13KPV1_I/AAAAAAAAALg/bzACLEFQKPY/s1600-h/balloon.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189261523651254258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAP13KPV1_I/AAAAAAAAALg/bzACLEFQKPY/s400/balloon.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find me freedom; Find me joy.&lt;br /&gt;Bring me salvation and peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2624294988321638097?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2624294988321638097/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2624294988321638097&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2624294988321638097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2624294988321638097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/04/hide-my-face-dont-look-at-me.html' title='Hide my face; Don&apos;t look at me'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/SAP13KPV1_I/AAAAAAAAALg/bzACLEFQKPY/s72-c/balloon.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7443987091034749264</id><published>2008-04-10T16:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:18.265+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry me a River.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_3SWywpuWI/AAAAAAAAALY/WZLWHbFMbao/s1600-h/river.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187533634825468258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_3SWywpuWI/AAAAAAAAALY/WZLWHbFMbao/s400/river.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get me out of here.please.please.please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7443987091034749264?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7443987091034749264/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7443987091034749264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7443987091034749264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7443987091034749264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/04/cry-me-river.html' title='Cry me a River.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_3SWywpuWI/AAAAAAAAALY/WZLWHbFMbao/s72-c/river.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5503115460595945901</id><published>2008-04-08T16:06:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:19.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Almost and Late Birthday.</title><content type='html'>I'm in Melb again. Back to GGS. Back to School. Ergh. It's wintertime. Good thing it's not snowing. I'm freezing my ass off here. Growing fatter as always and my brain decomposes by the second. Geez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My last day before my departure to Melb, i went to Bangsar and went Puma crazy. Bought a fedora, a bag and a pair of volleys from puma. I would take pictures but nevermind. Haha. Anyway, went to Planet Hollywood that night. It was funny. We had dinner, chatted the whole night long. Ended up at Lecka-Lecka with a tonne of gelato and watching 'people' dance in the middle of the place. Lol. Well, during dinner, Roslyn and Aween went up to the waiter and said it was Andre's 22nd birthday. They only did that so we could get free dessert. When we finished eating, the waiter came to our table and asked for Zayaana. Of course i answered yes. The waiter told me to get on the chair and stand. Oh em gee. I was laughing my ass off. The girls said it was my birthday instead. So the whole of Planet Hollywood sang me happy birthday and we got free brownies with Ice-cream. Lol. Pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186791889486355666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_svviC2HNI/AAAAAAAAALQ/ZUoggLnUct8/s400/PO20080408_0047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186790936003615906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_su4CC2HKI/AAAAAAAAAK4/MrxKbi6D-fw/s400/PO20080408_0007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186785008948747378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_spfCC2HHI/AAAAAAAAAKc/Q0Me23LcuNo/s400/PO20080408_0008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186790588111264914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_sujyC2HJI/AAAAAAAAAKw/uYmb6A2X_ww/s400/PO20080408_0040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5503115460595945901?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5503115460595945901/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5503115460595945901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5503115460595945901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5503115460595945901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-almost-and-late-birthday.html' title='My Almost and Late Birthday.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R_svviC2HNI/AAAAAAAAALQ/ZUoggLnUct8/s72-c/PO20080408_0047.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7759155548870704256</id><published>2008-03-31T00:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:19.508+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep whispering to me; Are we..You okay?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R--5vCC2HFI/AAAAAAAAAKM/pLZE_5rLUVQ/s1600-h/Fire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183565913780526162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R--5vCC2HFI/AAAAAAAAAKM/pLZE_5rLUVQ/s400/Fire.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7759155548870704256?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7759155548870704256/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7759155548870704256&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7759155548870704256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7759155548870704256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/keep-whispering-to-me-are-weyou-okay.html' title='Keep whispering to me; Are we..You okay?'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R--5vCC2HFI/AAAAAAAAAKM/pLZE_5rLUVQ/s72-c/Fire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-351793726694994030</id><published>2008-03-30T14:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:19.761+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On my Way.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-8s4yC2HEI/AAAAAAAAAKE/Y-Yiz23rJr0/s1600-h/reflection.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183411050144734274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-8s4yC2HEI/AAAAAAAAAKE/Y-Yiz23rJr0/s400/reflection.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm tired of typing. So pictures should be enough kan? Besides, on average, all homo-sapiens rather look at pictures than read ramblings on one person's shitty life. Love me; Date me; Leave me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-351793726694994030?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/351793726694994030/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=351793726694994030&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/351793726694994030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/351793726694994030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/on-my-way.html' title='On my Way.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-8s4yC2HEI/AAAAAAAAAKE/Y-Yiz23rJr0/s72-c/reflection.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4309834967522752301</id><published>2008-03-30T00:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:19.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Cats and Dogs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-5spyC2HDI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/PoxgROEFFfI/s1600-h/making+out.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183199686214163506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-5spyC2HDI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/PoxgROEFFfI/s400/making+out.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sliced my finger open, btw. Was trying to be a helpful daughter by cleaning the glasses but one broke and i cut sliced my finger on the broken glass. I'm naturally smart, as you can see. It hurts the hell outta me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went to KLCC today with Aween, Roslyn, Andre and Aqif. Went to the art gallery like twice. Haha. It was that good i guess. With it's perks of dark lighting. ;p KIDDING.~ Anyway. I've got violin/piano class tomorrow. I don't know how i'm going to play like this. I can't feel my whole left hand. 4 cuts altogether, everybody. Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4309834967522752301?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4309834967522752301/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4309834967522752301&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4309834967522752301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4309834967522752301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/like-cats-and-dogs.html' title='Like Cats and Dogs.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-5spyC2HDI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/PoxgROEFFfI/s72-c/making+out.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8724051676299611007</id><published>2008-03-28T21:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:20.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy for You.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-zvnyC2HCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/nmeqsW44MiI/s1600-h/railway+tracks.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182780737924242466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-zvnyC2HCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/nmeqsW44MiI/s400/railway+tracks.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8724051676299611007?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8724051676299611007/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8724051676299611007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8724051676299611007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8724051676299611007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/crazy-for-you.html' title='Crazy for You.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-zvnyC2HCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/nmeqsW44MiI/s72-c/railway+tracks.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6513261232551984421</id><published>2008-03-26T17:54:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:20.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Forecast.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-odbiC2HBI/AAAAAAAAAJs/fGGehMbUpnE/s1600-h/Police+tapes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181986680075590674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-odbiC2HBI/AAAAAAAAAJs/fGGehMbUpnE/s400/Police+tapes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The temperature's changed. As the light of day, straight into a cave, to show me the way. I'm turning a new page. Definately not what i want, but what i need. It's getting warmer as we put on our stride. Thing's will be different now as we turn back the hands of time to way back when.  Let's just take this madness and throw it far away. Easy does it. In this time. Drives me crazy; drives me wild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6513261232551984421?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6513261232551984421/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6513261232551984421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6513261232551984421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6513261232551984421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/forecast.html' title='The Forecast.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-odbiC2HBI/AAAAAAAAAJs/fGGehMbUpnE/s72-c/Police+tapes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6795104649099082357</id><published>2008-03-25T00:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:20.611+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Does my Desperation count?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-fVdyC2G_I/AAAAAAAAAJc/kd1mpnE6Zdc/s1600-h/edge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181344603939675122" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-fVdyC2G_I/AAAAAAAAAJc/kd1mpnE6Zdc/s400/edge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6795104649099082357?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6795104649099082357/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6795104649099082357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6795104649099082357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6795104649099082357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/does-my-desperation-count.html' title='Does my Desperation count?'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-fVdyC2G_I/AAAAAAAAAJc/kd1mpnE6Zdc/s72-c/edge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7093336662437458843</id><published>2008-03-23T22:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:20.802+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Destroy and Conquer.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-ZusCC2G-I/AAAAAAAAAJU/qlbCTUbKzQM/s1600-h/destroy.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180950124078439394" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-ZusCC2G-I/AAAAAAAAAJU/qlbCTUbKzQM/s400/destroy.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Not something i'd dream of doing but somehow what i feel like doing. I'm tired and exhausted. Emotionally and physically not in good a state right now. Gawd. So much for having a nice holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever feel like you're holding back on something? Ever feel like you just want to let go? Yes. Sounds luxurious right now. But no. I've been grown up this way and thus, i will hold back for the goodness of my repetoire. Right. Sarcasm straight ahead. Bleh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7093336662437458843?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7093336662437458843/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7093336662437458843&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7093336662437458843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7093336662437458843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/destroy-and-conquer.html' title='Destroy and Conquer.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-ZusCC2G-I/AAAAAAAAAJU/qlbCTUbKzQM/s72-c/destroy.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7287559724628198741</id><published>2008-03-22T21:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:21.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not right. Not okay.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-UNSCC2G9I/AAAAAAAAAJM/QikNLKE0XQg/s1600-h/road.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180561549797235666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-UNSCC2G9I/AAAAAAAAAJM/QikNLKE0XQg/s400/road.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Need i say more? It'll never stop. I hate this. Fuck&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Thats it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7287559724628198741?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7287559724628198741/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7287559724628198741&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7287559724628198741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7287559724628198741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-not-right-not-okay.html' title='It&apos;s not right. Not okay.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-UNSCC2G9I/AAAAAAAAAJM/QikNLKE0XQg/s72-c/road.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4767254274566554622</id><published>2008-03-21T20:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:21.162+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Strawberry and Mango Margaritas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-Ow1SC2G8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/s0bdxiZbR-0/s1600-h/beach+1.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180178425829530562" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-Ow1SC2G8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/s0bdxiZbR-0/s400/beach+1.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I hate this feeling. This feeling of wanting to throw up all the time. It sucks big time. It's so festy. Argh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to school today. Haha. Got back 2 days ago. At 5am. Lol. Went to school the day before and had a holiday yesterday. Went to have dinner that night with Roslyn, Ashley and Aween. Sadly Nissa couldn't come but she'll come next time. And that's a promise. *hint hint ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. Had fun. Laughter, flashbacks of when we were younger in Inai. Good times. Had a bit of drama here and there but nothing that Lecka Lecka can't be resisted. Haha. Well tomorrow's Faliha's birthday bash. She's going tohave this huge party of bunnies and rabbits. She's 6. Her b'day was on the 18th but the party's tomorrow purposely so i can help out once i get back. Pictures later eyh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in charge of percussion band for Junior. Although i won't be able to watch their performance, i should get credit. O well. Loads of homework that i haven't finished which should've been due. Lol. I'm gonna be dead once i get back to Geelong again. Geez. It's going to be winter. Means no more tempreatures at around 40 degrees. The heat-waves are brutal. Worse than Malaysia. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else? Urm. Haha. Just a few.. things. Small. Controllable ones. I think. I hope. I guess. Yea..&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and Gentlemen, let the holidays begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4767254274566554622?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4767254274566554622/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4767254274566554622&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4767254274566554622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4767254274566554622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-strawberry-and-mango-margaritas.html' title='Of Strawberry and Mango Margaritas.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R-Ow1SC2G8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/s0bdxiZbR-0/s72-c/beach+1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5039313256735573155</id><published>2008-03-18T05:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T05:21:54.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag.</title><content type='html'>Real name:&lt;br /&gt;Zayaana Shazlene bte Ahmad Husni bin Dato' Ahmad Zainal Abidin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nickname:&lt;br /&gt;Zay. (I hate that name) RosZayaana LynShazlene 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Male/Female:&lt;br /&gt;Female.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Married:&lt;br /&gt;One day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High school:&lt;br /&gt;Geelong Grammar School, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College:&lt;br /&gt;No college shit, going straight to Uni. ;p (as if.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short or long hair:&lt;br /&gt;Long, sweets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are u a healthy freak:&lt;br /&gt;I wish. But not a freaky one. Just a good freak. Like my sister. (Ahahaha..!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Height:&lt;br /&gt;Does being called Kenit answer that question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do u have a crush on someone?:&lt;br /&gt;Yup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do u like yourself:&lt;br /&gt;At some point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piercings:&lt;br /&gt;Ears ONLY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Righty or Lefty:&lt;br /&gt;Righty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIRST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surgery:&lt;br /&gt;As of Roslyn, I've dissected frogs and mice. Does that actually count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piercing:&lt;br /&gt;When I was 4. (*tear)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person you see in the morning:&lt;br /&gt;My roommates. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Award:&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember. Haha. Latest one was for Forensics and HSM and some subjects in Inai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sport you join:&lt;br /&gt;Badminton. One of the best of GGS yet no one knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pet:&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Sushi- Garnett's blue fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vacation:&lt;br /&gt;Going back home should be vacation right? Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concert:&lt;br /&gt;Gwen Stefani. Awesome-ness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First crush:&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Everyone knows this. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CURRENTLY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating:&lt;br /&gt;Nothing. I'm starving. Becoming an ano when i'm in the Fat house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drinking:&lt;br /&gt;Nothing. Soon water as i have to pop pills. I'm a druggie, everybody. Anything else new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to:&lt;br /&gt;Pack last-minute things. Last day of term. Going home tomorrow, peeps! :DDD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOUR FUTURE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want kids:&lt;br /&gt;Haha. 5 max. Like my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to get married:&lt;br /&gt;Sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Careers in mind:&lt;br /&gt;Music teacher, performer. Anything around that area&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is better? Lips or eyes?:&lt;br /&gt;Eyes. Lips. Eyes. Lips. Eyess. Definately Eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugs or kisses:&lt;br /&gt;Hugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romantic or spontaneous:&lt;br /&gt;Spontaneous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sensitive or loud:&lt;br /&gt;Loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Troublemaker or hesitant?:&lt;br /&gt;I don't mind a bit of bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE YOU EVER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kissed a stranger?:&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drank bubbles:&lt;br /&gt;Meaning..?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost glasses/contacts:&lt;br /&gt;No. Bent them, sat on them, kicked them, stepped on them- YES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ran away from home:&lt;br /&gt;No. Sucks to those who do. They're all shit-heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liked someone younger:&lt;br /&gt;Yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liked someone older:&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broke someone's heart:&lt;br /&gt;Yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been arrested:&lt;br /&gt;Nah. I'm an angel. x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cried when someone died:&lt;br /&gt;Urm. Not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU BELIEVE IN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yourself:&lt;br /&gt;Lol. No. Pessimism's my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miracles:&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Santa Claus:&lt;br /&gt;No. Screw him, he's fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magic:&lt;br /&gt;Hogwarts or Edward Cullen? I'd pick both. :DD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True Love/Love at first sight:&lt;br /&gt;Yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER TRUTHFULLY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there someone you want to be with right now?:&lt;br /&gt;Yea. (runs away*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been TAGGED!&lt;br /&gt;-Shaira&lt;br /&gt;-Allya&lt;br /&gt;-Aini&lt;br /&gt;-Nadhir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who tagged me? The Roslyn.of the Ruslans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5039313256735573155?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5039313256735573155/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5039313256735573155&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5039313256735573155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5039313256735573155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/tag.html' title='Tag.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5732915917691234965</id><published>2008-03-16T07:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T07:31:26.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questionairre.</title><content type='html'>Answer everything. Provide reasons if you feel like it, link lyrics if you feel like it. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite song(s)?&lt;br /&gt;Missy Higgins-They weren't there, Kate Voegele-Kindly Unspoken, Sara Bareilles-Love Song, Stacie Orrico- I'm not Missing you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Least Favourite song(s)?&lt;br /&gt;Soulja Boy-Crank it up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most romantic song?&lt;br /&gt;Ten2Five-I will Fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most wistful song?&lt;br /&gt;Chris Brown-With You, Dayang Nurfaizah-Kasih&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most comforting song?&lt;br /&gt;Nat King Cole-Mona Lisa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most motivational song?&lt;br /&gt;Aly &amp;amp; AJ-Speak for Myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most philosophical song?&lt;br /&gt;Alicia Keys-Unbreakable, Stacie Orrico-Is it me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best lyrics + music mixture&lt;br /&gt;Sara Bareilles-Love Song, Missy Higgins-They weren't there, Samsons-Luluh, Jojo-Let It Rain, Ten2Five-You, Stacie Orrico-More to Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most beautiful lyrics?&lt;br /&gt;Sara Bareilles-Love Song, Dayang Nurfaizah-Hilang, Missy Higgins-Scar, Christina Aguilera-Save me From myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite artiste/band:&lt;br /&gt;Plain White T's, Alicia Keys, Chris Brown, Ten2Five&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most hated artiste/band:&lt;br /&gt;Good Charlotte, Simple Plan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best instrumental solo (in a song or the whole song, state instrument) :&lt;br /&gt;Ten2Five-You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best song for walking:&lt;br /&gt;Jojo-Coming for You, John Mayer-Clarity, Feist-1234, Yael Naim-New Soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiest song:&lt;br /&gt;Frank Sinatra-I've got you under my skin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saddest song:&lt;br /&gt;Ten2Five-You, Dayang Nurfaizah-Hilang, Sean Ghazi-Jauh Jauh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most "cool" song (smooth, steady, that kind of cool) :&lt;br /&gt;Jojo-Let it Rain, Alicia Keys-Diary, Sean Ghazi-Semalam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most "raw" song (sincere, open, leaking emotion and so on) :&lt;br /&gt;Aly &amp;amp; AJ-Potential Breakup song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most "urgent" song (seize the day, time is running out, that sort of thing) :&lt;br /&gt;Aly &amp;amp;AJ-Rush&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song that you associate with:&lt;br /&gt;Rain: Jojo-Let it Rain&lt;br /&gt;Night: Missy Higgins- The Speacial Two&lt;br /&gt;Morning: Lily-Allen-Knock 'em Out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most obscure nice song:&lt;br /&gt;Ten2Five-You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most overplayed song (at any point in time):&lt;br /&gt;Hey There Delilah - Plain White Ts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song that reminds you the most of childhood:&lt;br /&gt;Spoonful or Sugar-Mary Poppins, Sound of Music (the musical)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song most associated with memories (a particular one, a bunch, everything, doesn't matter):&lt;br /&gt;Ungu-Tercipta Untukku, Justin Timberlake-Until the End of Time, Stacie Orrico-I'm not Missing you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite oldies song:&lt;br /&gt;Frank Sinatra-Moon River, Renee Olstead-A love that will last,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite non-English song:&lt;br /&gt;Dayang Nurfaizah-Hilang, Kerispatih-Tapi bukan Aku/ Mengenangmu, Samsons-Kenangan Terindah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your song (one you live by/believe in strongly/defines you, etc) :&lt;br /&gt;Sara Bareilles-Love Song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, any other song (s) that's special to you (with a reason):&lt;br /&gt;Halo (Bethany Joy Lenz), KT Tunstall-Little favours, Alicia Keys-Where do we go From here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tag four people:&lt;br /&gt;-Shaira&lt;br /&gt;-Nadhir&lt;br /&gt;-Israk&lt;br /&gt;-Allya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5732915917691234965?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5732915917691234965/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5732915917691234965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5732915917691234965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5732915917691234965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/questionairre.html' title='Questionairre.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5165248838823597063</id><published>2008-03-15T13:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:21.606+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindly Unspoken.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9tgpIoFYEI/AAAAAAAAAI8/nIdMGdcBQ3M/s1600-h/pretty+boring.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177838456399028290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9tgpIoFYEI/AAAAAAAAAI8/nIdMGdcBQ3M/s400/pretty+boring.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I just got back from music school and i'm bored out of my mind. I can't even begin to describe how bored i am. I wish i had a friend to go out with coz mine apparently happens to be taking an afternoon 'nap'. Geez. Lol.&lt;/p&gt;Going back to M'sia next week. How awesome is that? I can't wait until i get back and breathe the congested polluted air of M'sia. I miss Sri Inai and the girls. My mum and dad. :D Faliha's going to turn 6everybody. She's in the [hase of liking cute bunnies right now. She has good timing seeing that it's Easter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a whole lot of work to catch up on. But good thing the teachers here are not so attentive and lets me take my own sweet time to finish everything. I get to go out of class coz i'm 'dizzy'. Haha. But anyhow. It's been really hot the past few days so fainting wasn't really in my agenda of a normal weekday at GGS. I won my badminton game again this morning. I played doubles. There'll be a dinner for all badminton players on Monday night. Hopefully good food instead of just now's lunch. Eckk. Well. I'd really like some company right about now coz i'm bored out of my mind. O wait, i already said that didn't i? Haha. Pish posh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School ends on Tuesday which also is casual wear day. So, we don't have to wear our uniform. Lol. Cool eyh? Anyway. What else? Hrm. Wish i had some food right about now. I'm totally hungry. I didn't skip lunch. I went. I just didn't eat as much. Not as much as i use to. Sue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5165248838823597063?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5165248838823597063/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5165248838823597063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5165248838823597063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5165248838823597063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/kindly-unspoken.html' title='Kindly Unspoken.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9tgpIoFYEI/AAAAAAAAAI8/nIdMGdcBQ3M/s72-c/pretty+boring.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7565868379626430382</id><published>2008-03-08T18:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:21.918+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate Milk.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9JqLYoFYDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/RCoK4W4Li0w/s1600-h/bad+self.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175315665623801906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9JqLYoFYDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/RCoK4W4Li0w/s400/bad+self.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I saw this quote which tore me to bits in laughter. Honestly. It was good. It goes a bit like this..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"She could no longer pretend that he wasn't an idiot."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Don't you just want to laugh? Haha. Anyway. I've been getting better. Very slowly. My nose is still blocked. I'm not coughing as much but it's there. Friggin' annoying. Bought a shirt at Chadstone. Wanted to buy more but it was just too pricey. ;( Anyhow. Going back to Geelong tomorrow by 5. Still have to go for chapel. Pfft! Next week is going to be my last full week of school. Week after that is just a few days and i'll be going home. Yes! Lol. Only after i get out of GGS, next day, i have to follow my auntie and drive all the way to Timbertop to pick up madame Alysha. Honestly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to school, back to school. To show my father i'm not a fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7565868379626430382?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7565868379626430382/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7565868379626430382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7565868379626430382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7565868379626430382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/chocolate-milk.html' title='Chocolate Milk.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9JqLYoFYDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/RCoK4W4Li0w/s72-c/bad+self.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5960451683781193258</id><published>2008-03-07T10:28:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:22.085+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Song.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9Co38t3MLI/AAAAAAAAAIs/FPokl9it8yY/s1600-h/polka+dots.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174821650993459378" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9Co38t3MLI/AAAAAAAAAIs/FPokl9it8yY/s400/polka+dots.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Head under water&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And they tell me to breathe easy for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The breathing gets harder, even I know that&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You made room for me but it's too soon to see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I'm happy in your hands&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm unusually hard to hold on to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Blank stares at blank pages&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No easy way to say this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You mean well, but you make this hard on me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you a love song'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;cause you asked for it'cause you need one, you see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you a love song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you tell me it's&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Make or break in this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you're on your way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you to stay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If all you have is leaving I'm gonna need a better&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Reason to write you a love song today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I learned the hard way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That they all say things you want to hear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And my heavy heart sinks deep down under you and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your twisted words,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your help just hurts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You are not what I thought you were&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hello to high and dry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Convinced me to please you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Made me think that I need this too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm trying to let you hear me as I am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you a love song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you asked for it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you need one, you see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you a love song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you tell me it's&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Make or break in this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you're on your way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you to stay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If all you have is leaving I'm gonna need a better&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Reason to write you a love song today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Promise me that you'll leave the light on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To help me see with daylight, my guide, gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause I believe there's a way you can love me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Because I say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I won't write you a love song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you asked for it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you need one, you see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you a love song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you tell me it's make or break in this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is that why you wanted a love song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you asked for it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you need one, you see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you a love song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause you tell me it's make or break in this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you're on your way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna write you to stay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If your heart is nowhere in it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't want it for a minute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Babe, I'll walk the seven seas when I believe that&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There's a reason to&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Write you a love song today..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Thats it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5960451683781193258?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5960451683781193258/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5960451683781193258&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5960451683781193258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5960451683781193258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/love-song.html' title='Love Song.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R9Co38t3MLI/AAAAAAAAAIs/FPokl9it8yY/s72-c/polka+dots.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-245473294459252742</id><published>2008-03-06T15:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:22.405+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom, baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R8-fMst3MKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Fi2JhR308FU/s1600-h/Piano.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174529537382756514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R8-fMst3MKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Fi2JhR308FU/s400/Piano.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; Okay. Aside from the fact that i've been sick and coughing my head off, i feel perfectly fine. Emotionally. I am. Really. So not convincing, eyh? ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;House music just finished. Wish i participate. Next year, i'm making a mark that Zayaana Shazlene can do something than play a sheet of music. House music is by the way, a competition between houses at GGS. Each house has to present a song sang by the whole house, an ensemble and either a solo or duet. Of course, me being in the most awesome Garnett, we won. Again. For the 3rd time in a row. Keep it coming, guys. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything else? Hrm. I've been coughing a lot. Ironically this happened after i came back from Timbertop. Yea, i went up one of the mountains at around 5 degrees but i hope that has nothing to do with what state i'm in right now. I've been coughing since Friday and my nose has been blocked since.. i can't remember when. I'm just really sick. Yet i have no temperature. I know, what the hell's wrong with me? Lol. Well, the result of that, i get a longer weekend than i expected. I'm back at the apartment with my auntie. I was really looking forward to Badminton this Saturday for unobvious reasons but really. I was looking forward to it. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have anything else to say now. Just 2 more weeks and i'm coming back home, baby. :D But i'll be back for term 2 and it's going to be wintertime. Ooh, boy. Bring on the heat..!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-245473294459252742?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/245473294459252742/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=245473294459252742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/245473294459252742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/245473294459252742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/freedom-baby.html' title='Freedom, baby!'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R8-fMst3MKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Fi2JhR308FU/s72-c/Piano.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8198568293845326781</id><published>2008-03-02T15:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T15:17:53.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spread my wings and Fly</title><content type='html'>"Successfully tore my heart. Now it's only pieces. Nothing left but pieces of You.."&lt;br /&gt;I just like the song. Don't blame me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm using the school's network. I never thought i could get it but since i'm super smart, i can. Muahaha. I hate not having to update my blog. I miss writing in it. Anyway. I'm a newer me. If that's what i'm gonna describe now. But anyway, restarting how i started. Everyone deserves second chances and that's it i guess. I'm getting hungry. I missed dinner i think. O well. I've got a sore throat and cold. And since it's autumn, it's not really in sync and my immune systems shows how weak i am. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's been okay. I'm still not getting around as much as i had hoped but i guess since it's just first term, i'll give it time. No rush. Anyway. What else should i say? 2 more weeks until i'm back. Oh so sweett. Haha. I don't have the Aussie accent really. Been trying to not go in tune with it. I'll try to get the furry animals Roslyn wants since i love you so much. Haha. Been spending most of my time at the music school. I'm trying anyway. Only place where i get to sing and no one has to look at me like i'm an alien from outerspace. I can play the piano and my violin without having to put a quiet sign on or something. But because i'm sick, i don't really have the energy to have that much effort into walking all the way to the music school. So sue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, i may sound better now. But there will always be moments and i don't intend to fall back and run away from it. Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8198568293845326781?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8198568293845326781/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8198568293845326781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8198568293845326781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8198568293845326781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/03/spread-my-wings-and-fly.html' title='Spread my wings and Fly'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4935575642315495515</id><published>2008-02-17T06:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:22.527+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Garnett House.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R7dpgkc0geI/AAAAAAAAAIc/BkJijCOm3WM/s1600-h/IMG_0770.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167715105692221922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R7dpgkc0geI/AAAAAAAAAIc/BkJijCOm3WM/s400/IMG_0770.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The entrance of Garnett house, Senior School, Geelong Grammar. I'm in it. My next best place to be. I'm so stuck at a cross-road that i can't even be able to figure out how i got there in the first place. It sickens me to think that i may never be able to survive this.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I was looking at an ex-inaian's facebook profile, Tengku Nadira. Al-fatihah. May she rest in peace. Everyone knows how hard she fought. She did well. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I'm not really in a  good mood. Like i've always been ever since i got here but anyhow, just... 4 weeks til i go back to KL? Pfft. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Thats it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4935575642315495515?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4935575642315495515/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4935575642315495515&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4935575642315495515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4935575642315495515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/02/garnett-house.html' title='Garnett House.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R7dpgkc0geI/AAAAAAAAAIc/BkJijCOm3WM/s72-c/IMG_0770.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8785812690497441986</id><published>2008-02-16T20:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T21:05:11.934+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wreckless.</title><content type='html'>I hate Valentine's day. Always had, always will. -.-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, am in Melb for the weekend. Kinda not in the mood but i'm trying to blog whenever i get the chance. My laptop can't connect so it's being a real jackass to me right now. Other than that, i'm extremely depressed. Period. Ah fuck this shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had lunch with Auntie Rozah and the boys. Then i went to watch a movie with mama yom. 'Definately, Maybe'. Ryan Reynolds, Isla Fisher, Abigail Breslin. A cute one i'd say. Maybe most would find it a wee bit long. Other than that, had a shower and here i am just checking up on mail and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying i hate the life of being a Geelong Grammar Student. I'm just not prefering it at the moment. Or maybe it's just my highly imaginative pessimistic thoughts that's putting me down lower than the floor. It's really nothing when you look at it closely coz it's all on the table and i just have to DEAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do miss everyone, by the way. I miss him, i miss the girls, i miss my family etc. You get my drift. I wish Skype would fucking work on my laptop and wireless too as it is pissing me off. You don't want to see me in a pissy mood when i'm already pissy myself. Ahhhhh fuck thiiisssss... Xp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8785812690497441986?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8785812690497441986/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8785812690497441986&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8785812690497441986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8785812690497441986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/02/wreckless.html' title='Wreckless.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1875964594341849620</id><published>2008-02-07T21:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T21:16:19.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My One Day Off.</title><content type='html'>Lol. Yea. Apparently, my mum got permission for me to stay in Melb before i go back to Geelong tomorrow morning. Yes, i still have to go for Chapel. Sucks to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. School's been hectic. I still get confused at where all my classes are. It's cold and it rains often here. It's awful. My dress is always flying. I'm always running, either to change or to get my stuff for sports or going to the bus stop before they leave without me. There's always roll-call and since my last name starts with an A, they call me first and if i miss 3 times, i get detention. That's fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had dinner tonite with my seniors and their parents. Their parents know my auntie and uncle. So we had a day off from school. CNY la. I can't really be bothered right now coz boarding school is literally killing me. Don't ask why. I'll start rambling and that's just no point. So. Here i am. Trying to do research when i couldn't resist checking my mail, my blog, other's blogs, facebook, myspace etc. I only get my laptop on the 13th but i'm only allowed to skype and nothing else. School policy. I understand why la of course.I'm not so much in a happy mood. I'm usually very pissy and cranky but i hide it so the whole world doesn't have to see me break down bit by bit. It hurts. It burns. It's agony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss everyone. I do. Love to all. Eheh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1875964594341849620?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1875964594341849620/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1875964594341849620&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1875964594341849620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1875964594341849620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-one-day-off.html' title='My One Day Off.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-878694366284975179</id><published>2008-02-01T17:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:23.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights.</title><content type='html'>First off..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Australian open. Watched Djokovic and Federer. I love Djokovic now. I've never watched that much tennis in my life though. Lol. Also watched Sharapova and Ivanovic. Gilerrr..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6LhP_fmZtI/AAAAAAAAAH0/yKfYJ0R9J9o/s1600-h/IMG_0649.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161935787778270930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6LhP_fmZtI/AAAAAAAAAH0/yKfYJ0R9J9o/s400/IMG_0649.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6Lhs_fmZuI/AAAAAAAAAH8/uqcuRhY2USI/s1600-h/IMG_0691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161936285994477282" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6Lhs_fmZuI/AAAAAAAAAH8/uqcuRhY2USI/s400/IMG_0691.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Max Brenner's. It's sinful. It's this place where all you can get is chocolate. Chocolate latte's and pizza pies with chocolate etc. Below is what i've tried to eat. Chocoholics would call this place their sanctum really. It's unbelieveable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161937479995385618" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6LiyffmZxI/AAAAAAAAAIU/K_0paoQBfvw/s400/IMG_0726.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6Lie_fmZwI/AAAAAAAAAIM/aCd4XUIQxks/s1600-h/IMG_0725.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161937144987936514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6Lie_fmZwI/AAAAAAAAAIM/aCd4XUIQxks/s400/IMG_0725.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And yes. Cam-whoring with Alysha. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6LiFvfmZvI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tlpRF7Kb4AM/s1600-h/IMG_0709.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161936711196239602" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6LiFvfmZvI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tlpRF7Kb4AM/s400/IMG_0709.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I just got back from orientation. Campus is huge. Need really good shoes since i only get 5 minutes to change classes. My house, Garnett is awesome. I'm gonna like it there i hope. It's so close to Manifold, a guys house. Eheh. Kidding. Anyway. I got my subjects in order. Taking Music, Visual Communication and Design, Business Management, Literature, Health Education, Religious Studies, English, Maths and Science. The last 5 subjects i mentioned are compulsory in both semesters. It was raining yesterday and was extremely cold. Today is just sooo windy. Got my uniforms. Will take more pictures. Haha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&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/11152418-878694366284975179?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/878694366284975179/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=878694366284975179&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/878694366284975179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/878694366284975179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/02/highlights.html' title='Highlights.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R6LhP_fmZtI/AAAAAAAAAH0/yKfYJ0R9J9o/s72-c/IMG_0649.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5835756722413422606</id><published>2008-01-28T06:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:23.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R50DxvfmZsI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_q41xbY0yqs/s1600-h/sun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160284901133936322" style="CURSOR: hand" height="116" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R50DxvfmZsI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_q41xbY0yqs/s400/sun.jpg" width="116" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Well. Today is apparently, lil Aqeem's birthday pulak. Lol. Aqif's youngest brother. Happy birthday, sweets. 8 years old and counting. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's a Monday. Hopefully we'll be going out again. Gotta get my Aussie number fixed. Sigh. I wanna hear the voices of my girls. Lol. It's not been a week and i already miss them. Anyway. It looks like it's gonna be another bright and sunny day today. I'm just writing in coz tomorrow i will officially become a Geelong Grammar School student and become an Ex-Inaian. I miss Sri Inai. Haha. I do. The teachers and the activities. Geelong's gonna be one heck of a challenge for me. Mama's coming tomorrow too with Faliha. Haha. But i'll only get to see them on Friday once the orientation is done. I think i've finally gotten my sleeping pattern in order. Muahaha~ I'm the only one awake at this hour. Woke up at 8.30am. Which is about 5.30am Malaysian time. Yayness!~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. I'm not sure what else to write. Just hoping i'll get a bit of shopping done again today. Hehe. x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5835756722413422606?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5835756722413422606/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5835756722413422606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5835756722413422606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5835756722413422606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/01/monday.html' title='Monday.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R50DxvfmZsI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_q41xbY0yqs/s72-c/sun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4573775164800221369</id><published>2008-01-27T15:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:26.171+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet 16th.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wvTffmZpI/AAAAAAAAAHU/QqHOsg8jfzQ/s1600-h/roslyn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160051284977804946" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wvTffmZpI/AAAAAAAAAHU/QqHOsg8jfzQ/s400/roslyn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Thank you, Roslyn for the lovely wish. If you wanna know what i'm talking about, go to: &lt;a href="http://roseline1411.blogdrive.com/"&gt;http://roseline1411.blogdrive.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss everyone back home. Having a sweet 16th with everyone is the ultimate but when i'm missing my girls, the family and him, it sorta sucks. Thank God, there's always shopping. Shopped my ass off today. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Bought 3 tops, a pair of shoes and i got a bag from miss Alysha Azrin. Other than that, bumped into Riyana. Had a drink. Had cake. Chatted like we haven't seen each other in ages. Mum called. Got messages from Kak Cor and Aqif. Aqif did call but he got busy after a while. -.-" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I miss youu...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wuCPfmZnI/AAAAAAAAAHE/VK6OYPzHCwo/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160049889113433714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wuCPfmZnI/AAAAAAAAAHE/VK6OYPzHCwo/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wuXvfmZoI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HZnEwekYbXw/s1600-h/fam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160050258480621186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wuXvfmZoI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HZnEwekYbXw/s400/fam.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wwLffmZqI/AAAAAAAAAHc/4-iTZdu0lsE/s1600-h/a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160052247050479266" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wwLffmZqI/AAAAAAAAAHc/4-iTZdu0lsE/s400/a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;And thank you...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wxDffmZrI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Pik1nCqgn_E/s1600-h/aly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160053209123153586" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wxDffmZrI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Pik1nCqgn_E/s400/aly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;She bought me a Country Road bag. Eheh. And yea, she was the first to wish me since we're still jet lagged. Lol. Anyway. Orientation's on Tuesday until Friday. School starts next week. I'm terrified and excited. Ah, these adrenaline rushes. Well. Happy Birthday to me. Zayaana Shazlene of 2008. She...i mean, I am finally 16. Wanna take me out? Come to Melbourne, pleasee. ;')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4573775164800221369?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4573775164800221369/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4573775164800221369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4573775164800221369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4573775164800221369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/01/sweet-16th.html' title='Sweet 16th.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5wvTffmZpI/AAAAAAAAAHU/QqHOsg8jfzQ/s72-c/roslyn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-3527964844583609864</id><published>2008-01-25T09:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:26.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aussie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5lAVvfmZmI/AAAAAAAAAG8/AGnDFKhI9YI/s1600-h/aween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159225590400050786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5lAVvfmZmI/AAAAAAAAAG8/AGnDFKhI9YI/s400/aween.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've landed. Lol. You should hear how i got a seat on the plane with Alysha. We had a blast and we also met another girl who was super friendly. She's in Trinity. Berlin. That's her name. I don't mean Germany. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. As i said my goodbyes, waved, pouring my eyeballs out, hugging everyone like crazy, Alysha, Mama Yom and i ran to the gate. As we got to our seats, a couple was occupying mine and Alysha's seat. Double-booking, i suppose. So, we had to wait for a couple of minutes. Lastly, we both got UPGRADED to Buisness Class. Muahahaha!~ My auntie was stuck in Economy. Lol. That was totally my first time. Alysha's i-don't-know-how-many-times.I met Berlin. We ended up talking. Watched the Nanny Diaries. The one with Scarlett Johanson. Yes, it was pretty good. She's pretty. Tried to watch December Boys but my eyes got heavy. I went to sleep. Woke up and listened to some music. Apparently, i could pick songs from any album available and queue it up like a cd. I chose all songs that reminded me of everyone back home. Yes, i got emo durIng breakfast. Lol. I chose the ones that reminded me of Him, the girls, my family and anything that had to do with being emo. Pfft. I'm terrible. ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather's quite hot here. But it's windy as well. Going to watch the Australian Open later today and tomorrow afternoon, i think. Other than that, i'm just trying to keep calm and go as everything comes along. Will be writing emails soon enough. I miss everyone already. I miss &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-3527964844583609864?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/3527964844583609864/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=3527964844583609864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3527964844583609864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3527964844583609864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/01/aussie.html' title='Aussie.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5lAVvfmZmI/AAAAAAAAAG8/AGnDFKhI9YI/s72-c/aween.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2477090505134690747</id><published>2008-01-23T23:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:26.713+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5djbPfmZlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/K8DMmJtAyeg/s1600-h/don%27t+think.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158701217842882130" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5djbPfmZlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/K8DMmJtAyeg/s400/don%27t+think.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, i'm trying so hard not to cry. To say goodbyes are the least things on my mind. Leaving them, leaving you. Sigh. It hurts. But i'm gonna have to be a big girl coz everyone knows- &lt;em&gt;big girls don't cry.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared shitless. Did i tell ya'll that? Bwahaha. I'm excited too. Ala, those usual feelings of going away and starting anew shit. I'm not much to be a happy one. I hate goodbyes. Honestly, who does? I'm gonna miss my girls and mi familia. Sri Inai too. I'm so gonna miss Sri Inai. I'm an inaian at heart. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, i'm gonna say a few goodbyes to a few certain people and if i leave out anyone, i'm sorry. x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashley, Nissa, Aween, Roslyn: God. My girls. My beautiful girls. I love you guys. Yea, i've put you through shit and vice versa eyh? Haha. I'm gonna miss the late night chatting and the sleepovers. Plus, the pranks and stuff we'd do or even the stupid stuff in class while teacher's not in. Keep Pn. Mazni and Pn. Mas laughing, guys. I know ya'll will. Keep Sri Inai alive while i'm gone. God knows, Forensics will die once ya'll leave. Haha. I love you all. Always. :')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nadhir, Israk: Guys, the late-night outs have been loads of fun. Thanks, Nadhir for the other night. And Israk, it's been nice catching up with you. Hope to see you both soon, hrm? Drop by, Melbourne when you're free. Alysha and i will be there, as always. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aini, Allya, Dayang: Gosh, you girls. So adorable, witty and talented. I'm wishing you all the best. Take care of Sri Inai, okay? I'll be back, don't worry. Lol. Good luck in PMR to Aini and Allya. Dayang- Don't worry, lamer lagi. ;p Well, you girls have been great support and will be dearly missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faiz: Geez, this ding-dong doesn't even read my blog. Pfft. But ima write something anyway. I'm gonna miss you, sweets. You've been awesome company throughout 'that' time and during New Year's. Only you knew how sucky i felt. Haha. I'm sorry we couldn't go out. I wanted to, believe me, love. But maybe next time la, okay? I owe you bigtime, carebear. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putrina, Ezra: Ahh, my PEZ women. Yea, i couldn't go out with you two either. I totally suck, don't i? Haha. Well, as you both don't read my blog, i'll still write since i love you both so much. Puts, take care of Ez, okay? And Ez, be strong for Puts. You know i love you both. &lt;33&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abang Johan: Haha. Abang, i'm gonna miss the times we had during the christmas show. I know, it brings up the fact that RTM was totally tacky and cheap. Lol. Anyway. Have fun with your mum and the other kids. Send me a copy of all your performances in the year's to come. And hey, who knowss. If i'm lucky, i might perform with you guys again. Love ya, big brotha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aizat, Andre, Hadi: You guys. Eventhough you don't read this thingie, just thought i'd type it out. You guys better take care of the girls, okay? Please. You've been the girls next best thing. I hope you don't ruin it with your wacky behaviour. Lol. Have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Martina: Gawd, i love this one too. Haha. You be good, okay? Yes, i'll always remember you. Don't worry, i'll email you when i'm there. Hope to see you soon, okay? Missing you always, honeybunch. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, but not least...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqif: Yes. This one doesn't read my blog either. But it's alright. Well. Where do i start? We've been through shit loads together. Everyone knows that, i assume. So. I hope everything goes well with you. Do good in PMR. Do good in your football. I know, Iyas needs another Liverpool fan to back him up during the rise and falls against other teams. So. Aqif, it's been a pleasure 'knowing' you. I hope we meet again soon. I know, it may not be the right words at the moment, knowing at our state, we shouldn't even be talking. But you know how it is. Just be yourself. Don't listen to me anymore. Eheh. I hope your life hasn't been hell ever since i showed up. And since i'm outta it, i hope you're at peace. Be good, okay? I wish so many good things for you. I wish so hard. Honestly speaking, i'll miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Hopefully, i've summarized all my special people. I'm thinking i'm leaving a few people out but i'm hoping that i've spoken to you before i board the plane. Thanks again, and goodnight. I'll blog once i'm in Melbourne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2477090505134690747?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2477090505134690747/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2477090505134690747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2477090505134690747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2477090505134690747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/01/last-day.html' title='Last Day.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5djbPfmZlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/K8DMmJtAyeg/s72-c/don%27t+think.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1939364883957612266</id><published>2008-01-20T08:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:26.845+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5KUT0s0IVI/AAAAAAAAAGk/3_rz7WZre2A/s1600-h/Nissa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5KUT0s0IVI/AAAAAAAAAGk/3_rz7WZre2A/s400/Nissa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157347591577674066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. Had quite a bit of fun that night. Yes, it's a Sunday morning at 8.12 am. I woke up at 7.30 for God knows what reason and decided to check out all my mail since my internet's been restored. Muahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. We all went to school yesterday. The girls had add-maths class while i was painting a mural. It didn't look that interesting but it was something. So, after, we went to Pavillion and stayed there the whole time. Had lunch. Walked around a little. Watched Sweeney Todd which i can say, is extremely gory. Bleh. Then we went to the Gelato place outside Pavillion. Me, Aween, Nissa, Andre, Hadi, Aizat and Aqif. Ashley had to go home and Alysha had to go to some wedding. Although after pleading with my mum so i can hitch a ride home later in the night, we had a blast. Lots of laughs with them. Tried new things. I'm gonna miss them. I'll be back in March for 2 weeks, i think. Then balik until June or July. I know March may not seem that far but when it comes to being away by yourself alone, it's a million times more frustrating. Geelong may be a wish come true for me, but honestly, i'm scared shitless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate having to think i've only got 4 more days until i leave this country. I love the people in it but somehow i just want to get away as fast as i can. Interestingly enough, i'm just wanting to see what kind of life i'll lead once i'm in Geelong. I'm gonna miss him and the girls, of course. O, i'm gonna miss them so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had loads of fun for the last 2 weeks. Coming home late. Walking around Bukit Bintang with Shaira, Nadhir, Israk, Zalea and Aston. Then with Aween and Nissa and the guys. Yes, i've had tonnes of fun. I wish time wouldn't have to be so short. I won't be able to see them again unless we go out on Wednesday-public holiday. Lol. Sighh. Love me. Miss me? I think not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1939364883957612266?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1939364883957612266/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1939364883957612266&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1939364883957612266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1939364883957612266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/01/saturday.html' title='Saturday.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R5KUT0s0IVI/AAAAAAAAAGk/3_rz7WZre2A/s72-c/Nissa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5078960165666409817</id><published>2008-01-01T20:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:27.012+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's 2008.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3ovSks0IUI/AAAAAAAAAGc/zj0lGiK10hg/s400/new+years+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150481119987376450" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year, everybody. May the past be the past and may the future be the future. Haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with my sisters and we walked down Heritage Row. Since we couldn't 'curi-curi' get in, we decided to go to Pavillion. By the time we knew it, it was already 12. So, yea. Happy new year la. Got stuck in the rain and all the mat rempits getting at you and stuff. Argh. So. We decided to find somewhere to sit down, at least,besides the fact that we were ALL hungry, since all restaurants were full, we went to Starhill. We found a spot and we sat there. My feet were killing me. I couldn't walk anymore. Literally. We took a few photos and then met up with my other sister. It was already 2 and since we were hungry, we went to Mamak. Haha. How sad. So, we ate and we chit-chatted. Shaira, Aston, Nelly, Zalea and me. Nelly dropped us home at around 3.30am. My mum didn't care what time we got home. This morning, she didn't even ask and she looked like she didn't care. We didn't want to push them buttons, so we told it like it was when she asked. Aside the fact that we were at Heritage Row. Haha. Police were everywhere really and the queue to get in was soo long. My feet couldn't take it. Neither could Shaira's and Nelly's. This year's new year's celebration was dead and boring. Hah. So much for having a good one before i go. Well, 23 more days to go before i leave. Sighh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture, credits to Nissa. I was high that time and told Shaira to take it. Nissa took it and edited it. I'm guessing she really loves me or she has no life. Haha. Kidding. Thankiieee. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5078960165666409817?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5078960165666409817/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5078960165666409817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5078960165666409817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5078960165666409817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-years-2008.html' title='New Year&apos;s 2008.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3ovSks0IUI/AAAAAAAAAGc/zj0lGiK10hg/s72-c/new+years+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6761023517004716889</id><published>2007-12-31T11:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:27.215+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Official.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3hluUBplGI/AAAAAAAAAGU/hmI-6lD7Mgk/s1600-h/walk+away.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3hluUBplGI/AAAAAAAAAGU/hmI-6lD7Mgk/s400/walk+away.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149978020222178402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the new year starts, might i just say that i will miss everyone terribly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be going to Year 10 of Geelong Grammar School, Australia. I'll be there for 3 years then i'll go to Sydney to finish my University. Boarding school was the last thing on my mind until i got that oppurtunity. Since i wanna further my studies in music, no matter how many times i say i'm gonna quit and how much i suck, i'm still going for it. Alysha will be there but in another campus just for next year. What else? I'll be leaving on the 24th. Got loads to pack and to check on. Will attend Sri Inai for the first 2 weeks then i'll be done coz i really gotta pack. Winter there is effin' cold. I'll be going with my Auntie and Alysha. My sisters only go back in February. Yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, no tears are allowed until the 24th. Hah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6761023517004716889?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6761023517004716889/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6761023517004716889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6761023517004716889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6761023517004716889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-official.html' title='It&apos;s Official.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3hluUBplGI/AAAAAAAAAGU/hmI-6lD7Mgk/s72-c/walk+away.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-3752078874386040695</id><published>2007-12-27T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:27.447+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hear me Cry.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3PFMzEMouI/AAAAAAAAAGM/bLVc_peq_vo/s1600-h/nightlights.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148675622671524578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3PFMzEMouI/AAAAAAAAAGM/bLVc_peq_vo/s400/nightlights.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I'd never thought RTM would be that terrible until they did the christmas show i was in. Thanks to those who watched. -.-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Anyway. I did maths and accounts at school. Yesterday was accounts and today was maths. I had to re-sit the exams. My beloved mother's idea. Pift. So, i did it. And guess who was there? Yup. Him. I won't elaborate. I felt like a total idiot really. But what else is new with that?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I'm pretty tired. My brains have not been attentive enough to my surroundings. In the end, i'll just be stoning and thinking negative thoughts. I woke up this morning crying. Just a bit. I dreamt that i was hugging my grandparents and saying my final goodbye before moving. Weird ain't it? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Yea. I will be moving. Geez. All these dreams. So. Yes, i'm moving. I won't put all the details just yet. The closer to the date of my departure, then i shall put an entry officially. Didn't i say i wanted to go party? I'm such a sad soul.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Thats it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-3752078874386040695?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/3752078874386040695/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=3752078874386040695&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3752078874386040695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3752078874386040695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/12/hear-me-cry.html' title='Hear me Cry.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R3PFMzEMouI/AAAAAAAAAGM/bLVc_peq_vo/s72-c/nightlights.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4415966265161077665</id><published>2007-12-24T00:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:27.689+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R26LMGyyTBI/AAAAAAAAAGE/H5srIaQpSWQ/s1600-h/heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147204464229370898" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R26LMGyyTBI/AAAAAAAAAGE/H5srIaQpSWQ/s400/heart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I never thought i'd have the same dream all over again. I mean, c'mon. I had it 2 years ago and now it came back a few nights ago. How do i remember? Coz it was one of my closest friends, i'm talking about here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never thought he'd say what he said but that utterly shocked me. Again. And yet i woke up at the same time. I didn't react to it. The only way i reacted was to wake up. Pfft. How frustrating that was. I know. How random this may seem. I would've blogged bout it a few nights ago but it slipped my mind until i text him to see how he was doing. He's just a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet. This dream. Twice?! Honestly. What sign are you giving me? God, please. Point to the nearest window so i can escape this monstrosity of confusion. Baahhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4415966265161077665?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4415966265161077665/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4415966265161077665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4415966265161077665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4415966265161077665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/12/wake-up.html' title='Wake up.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R26LMGyyTBI/AAAAAAAAAGE/H5srIaQpSWQ/s72-c/heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-604336436300341115</id><published>2007-12-23T13:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:27.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fresh out of Jail.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R231jmyyTAI/AAAAAAAAAF8/CvhoAXcbpDU/s1600-h/out+the+window.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147039941212130306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R231jmyyTAI/AAAAAAAAAF8/CvhoAXcbpDU/s400/out+the+window.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna go out. I need something to do. I wanna go out dancing. I want to sing my heart out. Have a few laughs. Meet some new people. I need a new perspective. I need.. an escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds off. Pfft. I've done enough damage, i know. But honestly. I need it. Literally. And urgently. Sucks really. When i have nowhere to run. Nowhere to go. Friends are all busy leading their lives. I'm gonna be left behind once everything settles in. For good. I'll be a newbie again. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As i said. Anyone want to see a 16 year old get crazy? Or maybe drunk. Give me a call. I'll be waiting. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-604336436300341115?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/604336436300341115/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=604336436300341115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/604336436300341115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/604336436300341115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/12/fresh-out-of-jail.html' title='Fresh out of Jail.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R231jmyyTAI/AAAAAAAAAF8/CvhoAXcbpDU/s72-c/out+the+window.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8410655216720784227</id><published>2007-12-20T20:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T20:22:17.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Trying to analyze every angle, situation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Trying to find an explanation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cause it's getting aggrivating&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Why my relationships never seem to work out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Beginnin' to worry and doubt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;If I'm even able to detect he's the one&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When to stay or when to run&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Why I haven't seen the sun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Shine his light on my heart and help me ease the pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cause I'm getting tired of the rain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Falling on my heartbreak and I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Get my hopes up when I'm in love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Until we break up then I'm back to the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Same spot, I've been lonely, drowning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cause every guy turns out to be the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So now I'm questionin' is it me to blame&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;[CHORUS:]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Is It Me? am I so complicated?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Is It Me? or is love over-rated?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Is It Me? cause I don't quite understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Why it never turns out how I thought I planned it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Is It Me? am I too independent?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Is It Me? not ready for commitment?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Is It Me? cause it doesn't seem to last&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And it's the only question that I never asked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Maybe I'm longin' for it more than I should be expecting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;All the standards that I'm setting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Unrealistically I'm getting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Possibly in the way of what is left to have in store&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Because I'm so confused and insecure&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cause when i know for certain everything is going wrong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I permitted to prolong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tried my best to hold on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My Mister Right's probably hanging round my window pane&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;While I look through only watching the rain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Falling on my heartbreak and I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Get my hopes up when I'm in love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Until we break up then I'm back to the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Same spot, I've been lonely, drowning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cause every guy turns out to be the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So now I'm questionin' is it me to blame&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;[CHORUS]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Never thought it could be that its me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Till i realized I`m the only&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Common factor and played a big part&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In letting people break my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Never noticin' I was wasting time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Asking the same thing every time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Who were you with? and where were you at?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Until I took the time to turn and look back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8410655216720784227?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8410655216720784227/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8410655216720784227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8410655216720784227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8410655216720784227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/12/is-it-me.html' title='Is it Me?'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2752777569842627696</id><published>2007-12-16T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T01:43:16.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>After the Storm.</title><content type='html'>10-minute breakdowns are just lovely, aren't they? Don't ask. I don't wanna talk about nonsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. It's 1.23am. I'm not asleep yet. I happened to be in my own world. In a world where i'm alone. And it's all dark. No one around. To look for or to be looked for. Does that make sense? Nevermind. I need a dose of craziness. I'm rotting at home. I can't take it anymore. I'm going insane. I am literally going insane. Just thought i wouldn't have broken down, you know? I thought i could make it to more than 10 days but apparently, i couldn't. Well, defeated my purpose of pulling the plug, in the first place. I'm such an idiot. I'm a total idiot. Maybe i'm jinxed. O gawd. Yes, i'm definately jinxed. Won't last long for anything. That's why i fail. I try again and i fail again. The cycle keeps going. The jinxed up cycle of Zayaana Shazlene's pathetic life in every area imaginable. Imagine. Being me. You'd be begging to leave this utter horrific body to go back to your own. It's ugly inside and out. It's like there's not good thing except for being healthy. I'm not sure if i'm even healthy, in the first place. Who knows, i might have somthing growing in my body. Or maybe something about to grow or about to start breeding in my body. Wow. Wouldn't that be delightful? Like anyone will care. I wonder. Will anyone notice if i'm gone? For good. I always think to myself. No one will miss you, Zayaana. No one. Who would want to miss a pathetic jinxed up Zayaana? What's the point? It'll be a complete waste of time. It'll be something that would just be so random, that you won't even think of it at all. Geez. Zayaana Shazlene, going to be missed? In your dreams, young woman. Please. Who would ever want to miss you? Enough. Enough. I can't do this anymore. I'm a weak idiot who over-estimates her ownself. She thinks she can but she knows deep inside, there's no way. There's no way out for anything. Her responsibilities, her dreams. All down the drain. Why? Coz she's too pathetic to make it all happen in the first place. No one to love. No one to care for. What's the point? There's no point. There's no point to live in this world anymore. I want to get away. I need to get away. I have to get away. But how? There's no way in the world that i could possibly get away from it all. I have to face it. Day by day. Plastering a happy face on this horrific body so no one would notice. I'm crumbling. Bit by bit. I doubt there's any bit left. I'm crushing down. Like a wall being bombed down so they can put a new one. Unfortunately, in my case, my wall is irreplaceable. Why am i here? Why am i talking about walls? What's wrong with me? What's so wrong with me? Why do things turn out how i never plan in my mind? Why? Why? Why? Is it me? Is it me that's been just preventing it? Or maybe avoiding it? Am i that bad? What's wrong with me? Is it me? Am i the one to blame for every wrong that's happen? It's aggrivating. Because i'm so confused and insecure. Am i too judgemental? I don't understand. Why? What's wrong with me? What's so fucking wrong with fucking me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2752777569842627696?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2752777569842627696/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2752777569842627696&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2752777569842627696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2752777569842627696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/12/after-storm.html' title='After the Storm.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2208469465851417903</id><published>2007-12-13T01:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:28.771+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A High School Christmas Musical !?</title><content type='html'>I'm part of the cast. Been rehearsing for nearly a month. Just finished shooting today. Or should i say yesterday since it's already 1am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a lot of waiting. I'm in quite a number of scenes. I look ugly on camera though. Trust me, i know. Anyway. RTM 2, 2.30 PM. Watch it, please. Not for me but for the other kiddies as well. A number of 22 people altogether to put up this show. Of course, choreographed and directed by auntie Farah Sulaiman herself. I got my pay. More than the usual. But the usual for RTM, has always been done live, for me. This was my first time doing a shoot. Was an educational experience. Pardon the Cliche-ness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S.&lt;br /&gt;Check the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sayang Dancers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; blog for pictures. They spelt my name wrong, unfortunately but somehow, make-up did look good on camera. ;p &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R2QZHWyyS-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/MQdrS5glfao/s1600-h/Johan+and+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144264288532319202" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R2QZHWyyS-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/MQdrS5glfao/s400/Johan+and+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R2QY0WyyS9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/1truJ2Vm1cE/s1600-h/Anis+and+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144263962114804690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R2QY0WyyS9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/1truJ2Vm1cE/s400/Anis+and+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R2QZkGyyS_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/KxHGz-WIzKk/s1600-h/johan+and+me+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144264782453558258" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R2QZkGyyS_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/KxHGz-WIzKk/s400/johan+and+me+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. Been typically tense and stressed over measly things. Been disturbing a few certain people. And they've been utterly nice to layan me. Other than that. Am totally worn out by all the drama and chaos i've been through and is still going through. Fuck this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2208469465851417903?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2208469465851417903/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2208469465851417903&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2208469465851417903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2208469465851417903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/12/high-school-christmas-musical.html' title='A High School Christmas Musical !?'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/R2QZHWyyS-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/MQdrS5glfao/s72-c/Johan+and+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-410920230695934603</id><published>2007-11-26T13:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T13:58:25.072+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama 101.</title><content type='html'>Living in my house has been dramatic. Thus, the title 'Drama 101'. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate everything that i've become. I'm going really hard on myself. Just goes to show how regretful i am after all the shit i've put other people through and all. I'm sorry. I'll be better. I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die. Literally. Well. A new day has come and here i am. Starting over. Writing many, many apology letters. Many. I wrote 10. Beat that. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. Hot. And tired. I'm in a christmas show for RTM. I'm not sure when it will be aired but yea. I'm in. So, rehearsals have been going on. Back and forth to Hartamas every now and then. Nothing much. Trip to KB and Terengganu was just the ice-breaker of the drama i've been through. Just try living in my house and you'll get what i mean. I won't elaborate as i don't want to spill all the 'lovely' details. I don't really want to communicate with anyone right now. I've got too much to deal with seeing as the situation i'm in now. But honestly, i don't mean anything bad. I just don't want to talk right now. O well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-410920230695934603?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/410920230695934603/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=410920230695934603&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/410920230695934603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/410920230695934603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/11/drama-101.html' title='Drama 101.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-3469898594287269444</id><published>2007-11-10T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:29.762+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cam-whoring.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSIpn0Cd0I/AAAAAAAAAFc/WrzG6KQCeWM/s1600-h/bite.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130876124125099842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSIpn0Cd0I/AAAAAAAAAFc/WrzG6KQCeWM/s400/bite.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSIUX0CdzI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qDaKI7J8edg/s1600-h/roite.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130875759052879666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSIUX0CdzI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qDaKI7J8edg/s400/roite.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSH9H0CdyI/AAAAAAAAAFM/MQypeufgsFY/s1600-h/hot+mess.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130875359620921122" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSH9H0CdyI/AAAAAAAAAFM/MQypeufgsFY/s400/hot+mess.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSHdn0CdxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/e-Q3I9C71Wk/s1600-h/hee.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130874818455041810" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSHdn0CdxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/e-Q3I9C71Wk/s400/hee.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obsessed with Black and White. Now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-3469898594287269444?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/3469898594287269444/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=3469898594287269444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3469898594287269444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3469898594287269444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/11/cam-whoring.html' title='Cam-whoring.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RzSIpn0Cd0I/AAAAAAAAAFc/WrzG6KQCeWM/s72-c/bite.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-9168917875809836063</id><published>2007-11-03T20:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T20:23:27.529+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiru Macam Saya.</title><content type='html'>Pandang lah, lihat lah&lt;br /&gt;Pinggangku yang ramping&lt;br /&gt;Dan dada ku yang bidang&lt;br /&gt;Marilah,&lt;br /&gt;Tuan-tuan dan nyonya&lt;br /&gt;Sama-sama lah pandang&lt;br /&gt;Perempuan yang cantik&lt;br /&gt;Bikin hati goyang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pandang lah, lihat lah&lt;br /&gt;Rambut ku yang ikal&lt;br /&gt;Dan mata ku yang hitam&lt;br /&gt;Inilah selalu menjadikan&lt;br /&gt;Orang hilanglah akal&lt;br /&gt;Rumah tangga tak kekal&lt;br /&gt;Gilakan bayangan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perempuan yang tak pandai menjaga badan&lt;br /&gt;Suaminya tentu lekas menjadi bosan&lt;br /&gt;Mengerbang rambut macam hantu dalam hutan&lt;br /&gt;Suami memandang hampir pengsan&lt;br /&gt;Perempuan kalau sayangkan suaminya&lt;br /&gt;Pandang sini dan tirulah seperti saya&lt;br /&gt;Jaga bentuk, jaga kulit dan jaga rupa&lt;br /&gt;Senyum sayang kau berikan dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pandanglah, lihat lah&lt;br /&gt;Tiru macam saya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-9168917875809836063?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/9168917875809836063/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=9168917875809836063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/9168917875809836063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/9168917875809836063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/11/tiru-macam-saya.html' title='Tiru Macam Saya.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-3331348064959746209</id><published>2007-11-02T17:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T18:02:45.904+08:00</updated><title type='text'>But i Will learn to Breathe.</title><content type='html'>I don't really like where i am right now. But i don't want it to stop either. Argh. I hate going through this pain and sorrow. This feeling. Everybody looks at me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my fault. I made such a scene. This is a roller coaster ride. A ride where there are no stops. None. I can't really say how much they've helped me and how they've said that i was so close. And yea, i thank them ever so much. I don't know if my absence will ever have an effect on them. I'm lost. I'm at a crossroad. I don't know where to go. So many things happening at once. It burns. It burns. My world is crushing. Coming down bit by bit. There are so few reasons to stay alive but many to just die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highs make me wanna fly and the lows makes me want to die. But i will learn to breathe. This ugliness may seem extreme. I don't know how much i can handle. I'm at a limit. Of having no more Oxygen. No more. I'm sad. Depressed. Lost. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not been eating lately. I didn't eat anything yesterday. Does that consider as starvation? Forget i asked. I don't know what's wrong with me. What's wrong with my world. My hope of becoming the brightest light has been shunned and turned to total and utter darkness. But i will learn to breathe. One way or another. I'm just tired. I've got nowhere to run. Did i mention i was lost? I'm already going insane. Incredibly insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is drama. Not the ones you see in a movie. Reality. This is messy shite. I'm the main character. Duh. My co-star is the cherry on top of a sundae. He's making me scream. Aaaahhhh..&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying it in a bad way. I just. Bah, why bother?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third exam started. I'm moving into a new house in Setiawangsa. Majlis Perpisahan in on Sunday. Kelantan/Terengganu trip's on the 17th. Roslyn's b'day is on the 14, Aizat's is on the 13th. Yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-3331348064959746209?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/3331348064959746209/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=3331348064959746209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3331348064959746209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3331348064959746209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/11/but-i-will-learn-to-breathe.html' title='But i Will learn to Breathe.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2392460341485417575</id><published>2007-10-14T22:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T23:18:53.478+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Raya 07.</title><content type='html'>It's been a quiet one down here in the Shamsuddin household in Tropicana, Petaling Jaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, i do not have a kampung. If you wanna call Tropicana as a kampung, be my guest. Mama Yom and Alysha are not here. They're in Melbourne. Alysha has school. Abang Yeop and Kak Ema are not here. They're in Bristol. Kak Ema has Uni. Ayah Da and Auntie Lina are not here. They're in Holland. No comment on them. Abang Ngah and Kak Jie are here. Finally. Abang Ngah, after not spending raya here in 5 years, finally spends it here but everyone else is away. Lol. Poor him. But he's got so many Neneks to see. Kak Jie has to visit or else habis ler. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been really quiet la. That's all i can say. Not been to  many houses. Went to Auntie Mai and Uncle Hisham's, my dad's brother btw, and that's it. My grandma is with them now. So, yea. Nothing much. Not going to Seremban or whatever. Thank God. Lol. Evil.~ Anyway. Many of my friends balik kampung too, so, haven't heard from them as much. Sorry, no pictures right now. Am at Tropicana where the whole computer is practically empty. Haha. My grandpaa. xp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been eating a lot. Like everything. I'm fat. Bwahaha. I've got no credit. So sad. But okay, that has nothing to do with being fat. Been eating a lot of them cookies. What can i say, they're gooodddd. x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selamat hari Raya, Maaf Zahir dan Batin. Sorry if i've done anything to hurt anyone. Happy raya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2392460341485417575?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2392460341485417575/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2392460341485417575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2392460341485417575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2392460341485417575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/10/raya-07.html' title='Raya 07.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4167610085939413858</id><published>2007-10-07T13:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T14:05:28.511+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In pain.</title><content type='html'>As the title. I am in so much pain. Physically and emotionally. I've been bruised up and scratched and i've been having massive headaches which will only heal once i sleep with a cold-pack. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bruise is purple. Not your average normal blue black bruise but mine's actually bloody purple. Martina finished PMR and i was there to hug her and scream and yell yay. She sorta flung me and hugged me. And during that process, our knees banged each other. Yet her knee is fine and dandy while mine is purple. Bah. It's not her fault. I don't blame her. My knee just hurts. My headaches have been bugging me lately but it's actually not that bad. It wasn't as bad but i still have them off and on. What else? Yea. Okay. That's physically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emotionally, i've been pretty down and off. I may not show it but i am. I guess i'm trying too hard to hide it which resulted me in changing in ways i don't even realize. &lt;em&gt;The only way to really see yourself sometimes is through somebody else's eyes. &lt;/em&gt;And that sucks.  Literally. I don't really know what to do. I'm just sorta thinking it'll wear off in time. But how long will it take? Me failing really took a blow to my soul. I don't even know if i can be me again. It crushed me. I know how i'll always say i'll be fine and since i'm taking the exam again, i guess i do have a second chance. But somehow, i feel i've given up totally. Just practically gave up without thinking. Just goes to show how i'm tired. Just pretty damn tired of everything. Well, there i go ranting again about how i'm ass at everything. Nyeh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping that all, i mean ALL of this will wear off in time so i can go through a day without measly decisions and shitty situations that just break me down. I hate having somebody telling me that i'm not the same as i was before. It hurts. Terribly. I need the urge and push to get me fighting again. Fighting again since i've given up on music. My life. Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4167610085939413858?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4167610085939413858/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4167610085939413858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4167610085939413858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4167610085939413858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/10/in-pain.html' title='In pain.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4190516045906993866</id><published>2007-10-02T23:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T00:13:14.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken.</title><content type='html'>I've failed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Argh. I'm an ass to think i could get a merit. I mean, c'mon la. Realistically speaking, everyone knows Zayaana Shazlene Ahmad Husni can't get a bloody merit for her stupid friggin' music exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've no more tears left me in me. Or have i? Throughout the whole of class, i played with tears streaming down my face. I couldn't even stop them. Stupid tears. I hate this feeling. This feeling of being destroyed. This feeling of being knocked down by a tonne of concrete slabs. Just this odd ass feeling inside of me really puts me in a mood you don't want to imagine. Ya'll thank God i'm not cutting myself. Okay, bad joke. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I expected it but i just wanted to close my eyes and receive something that maybe God thought i deserved. Or maybe this just some bad ass karma right there. Whatever it is. I think i should just give up music and do something else that i'm bad at. Like Accounts or something. I'm friggin awful at that. Maybe my bad ass karma will inflict worse wounds than my karma with music. If that made any friggin' sense. Geez. Well, one thing's for sure. I'm just not cut out for this shit no more. I should just give up. My teacher kept on stroking my hair saying how one failure can't be the end of it all. That really doesn't help the way i feel or think right now. I just felt like being alone. And here i am. Alone. On the computer. I just had my dose of chocolate just now and i guess that's the only thing i could count on to make me happy. And of course the Boyf. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, i thought i stopped crying. Until i received texts from my sisters saying how they're here for me and how i shouldn't be too hard on me self. That really made me pour out rain all over the place. It's not their fault. I know they're here for me. They're just not entirely here which made me feel even more alone in my room. Bah, Hambug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know i don't sound like some distraught mad ass cow but i am. You just may not see in what state i am. Frizzy hair. Eye bags are to the max. Blood-shot red eyes. The full works. Lol. Yea. I'm trying to keep a straight face before i break-down again. Sue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what else there is left to say. O yea, the fact that i'll be taking the exam again in April, next year. And this time, if i don't get a friggin' distinction, I'll friggin' kill myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4190516045906993866?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4190516045906993866/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4190516045906993866&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4190516045906993866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4190516045906993866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/10/broken.html' title='Broken.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1436859257551308225</id><published>2007-09-16T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T23:18:02.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Puasa.</title><content type='html'>I just finished watching Gol and Gincu. It was so sweet. Reza made like a hundred Origami thingies for Putri. And as she opens each one, Reza reveals his secrets. It was so cute. *Sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my first day of puaser. Now i have to ganti like 3 days. Argh. How annoying. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Anyway. I don't have much homework. I finished them mostly at school. Goody-two-shoes. Haha. This week has been one heck of a week. Filled with all sorts of challenges. Literally. I guess i got through them alright. I mean, i wasn't alone, that's for sure. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hrm. What else? I played my diploma pieces this afternoon. Violin. I felt like my fingertips were not aprt of my hand anymore. I couldn't feel anything. Yea, i felt satisfied coz i played so loud and with full force but numbness rushed all over me. And of course, at that time, my dear Roslyn gave me a call. O well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Ashley, even if that ding-dong doesn't read my blog. Sorry about Charlie Brown. Need anything, just gimme a call. We're all here, baybeh. Don't worry. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, my braces, i think one of the wires went loose. Bah. I hate these stupid things. They're so annoying. I only realized during sahur time, or was it buker time, yesterday. Whatever it is, it's loose. Gawd. Why now? And the meds i've been taking? Argh. Another useless thing. I can feel the effect on me. Coz my meds gets me dehydrated, especially since tengah puaser, my lips are constantly dry, no matter how much vaseline i put, i get tired easily and i'm not so focused. Argh. Embrace my tragedies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1436859257551308225?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1436859257551308225/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1436859257551308225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1436859257551308225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1436859257551308225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/09/puasa.html' title='Puasa.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7411420034962155649</id><published>2007-09-13T17:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T17:35:41.368+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blown.</title><content type='html'>I'm tired. Everyone's asking. Work's a mess. Emotions running everywhere. I gotta flush out my system. Start anew, you know? Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to post up in this shitty thing. My feelings are a mixed up. Anger, fury, sadness. All that crappy things. Yea. Not someone you wanna deal with right now. I hate. I don't know what i hate anymore. I'm tired. I've been had. I need. Fuck. O great, i shouldn't even be swearing since it's puasa month. Argh. I friggin' don't know what to write. Nyeh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a terrible disastrous thing when you wanna be yourself but no one, and i mean, NO ONE will allow it. Why? Coz it's been through generations of being the same way and change is bad. At some point. Not that it's not good to have some change in life but when people start to question your actions is when i go bongkers. I literally go crazy. I'm like a bottle about to crack. Holding as hard as i can not to. I can't afford to crack, or else i'll lose everything. But if i don't crack, by the time i do, it's gonna be a big one. I don't think that made any sense. Well, screw that. Anyway. People questioning your actions, right? Don't you just love people telling you something you already know? Fuck it. I hate that. I know what i'm doing. I may seem like i'm a stupid ass jerk running wild like some asshole but honestly, i know. I've thought about it countless of times. I've thought the consequences of my actions. And yes, i feel that it's nice to do what i've been doing but no. That's wrong. Everything's wrong. Everything's sooo effin' wrong. Why? I don't know why. Why don't i know why? Gawd, those questions will never ever end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's obvious. If it is, then shut up about it. Don't kecoh about something you already know. Yea, it's not your fault. It's mine. It's definately mine. Ours. Bah. We're wrong to be who we are sometimes. I can't be myself. I gotta be some role-model. If i do a mistake, i'm a goner. I have to be picture perfect. Like some robot who is not able to malfunction or something. I can't afford to not do mistakes. I do them all the time. Just when it's repetitive, is when people start coming to me with questions and i get sick of answering them. I do. But, you're. It's not your fault. We just gotta control ourselves more. In a way where it's welcoming to everyone. I know that cliche phrase where 'i'll do whatever i want and i don't give a damn'? Yea. Been there, done that. It sucks. Get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This 'budaya' as she said. It's been through generations and as being a part of this 'budaya' i have to follow. And yet i don't want to. What i want is to break-down and cry. Yea, i've done that too but i just can't keep this closure of saying everything's effin right when it's not. It's just not alright? And screw you for saying everything will be alright coz at where i am, right now, it's never fine unless you get out of this country. Get away from it all. But yet, getting away from it all might be the number one thing not to do and just deal. Just deal. Argh. Never. Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been suck a roller-coaster ride. I'm loving every second of it and hating every moment of it. I'm not gonna start with the 'why's'. It's hard. Especially when we're just in different worlds. And when you just wanna combine them, it's a wreck. A total wreck. You feel like you just wanna have a chance and go for the big guns but somehow karma always lets you down unless you're just totally jinxed. Bah. I think i've let out everything so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have more. But i'm saving it. Just so that when i crack, it'll be a grand event for the whole world to see. Plus, the bitch who's been saying things about Sri Inai on my youtube just adds more effect on my anger. Gawd, you so don't wanna mess. I can strangle you here and now and i'll feel fine. Cheers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7411420034962155649?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7411420034962155649/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7411420034962155649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7411420034962155649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7411420034962155649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/09/blown.html' title='Blown.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4731604148543889976</id><published>2007-09-05T19:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:30.004+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dangerously in Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rt6cErux2JI/AAAAAAAAAE0/EkN9i2mPKJI/s1600-h/cuddle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106690631757060242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rt6cErux2JI/AAAAAAAAAE0/EkN9i2mPKJI/s400/cuddle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So. Many people have been curious. With what's happening. It's been pretty risky but i guess it's not really a life if no risks have been taken.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend, we'll be going camping. Kat Gombak. Not far. A Pengakap and Pandu/Tunas Puteri thing. It's suppose to boost our Koko scores. I'm just going coz it'll be fun. *snigger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Homeworks been everywhere really. Been catching up but there's always something missing. Prefect's duties are everywhere. So not good. But i don't really give a damn anymore. Bwahaha. Other than that, been emailing Alysha like normal. And just been going through everyday life. With a twist. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4731604148543889976?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4731604148543889976/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4731604148543889976&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4731604148543889976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4731604148543889976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/09/dangerously-in-love.html' title='Dangerously in Love.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rt6cErux2JI/AAAAAAAAAE0/EkN9i2mPKJI/s72-c/cuddle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-869874235530362572</id><published>2007-09-02T09:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:30.441+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Audacity of Hope.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;                                                                             &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105418647127578738" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RtoXNbux2HI/AAAAAAAAAEk/HGabOA4cGKc/s400/statement.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Liverpool scored 6-0 against Derby, my brother and father are too giddy to watch anything else but football. I'm happy about the results though. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew that anything i've done in my life had any hope of coming to a stage where i could parade it to anyone. I am the person who likes doing all sorts of things and then gets stuck in them. Knowing that there could be never hope of me taking up Ballet, turned out pretty damn effed up after yesterday. Faliha had baby ballet yesterday morning. My mum and i watched her class. Then, after. My mum asked if they have a grade 8 class. And said that most of them would go to intermediate. And guess what, that's where i'm going. Either on Friday night or Saturday afternoon. I wish the times would be better. I'd rather have them in the morning. The thought of me in a leotard really brought back memories of when i was younger. Out of my siblings, my eldest sister only finished everything. Shaira didn't coz she had to go off. And well, i guess doing intermediate would just give me a thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what's happening next year. So many things will be happening. &lt;strong&gt;I hate it that some people do not share my audacity of hope to go for something so unexpected and yet i can relate to what they're feeling.&lt;/strong&gt; Just that of it being such a great oppurtunity made me realize my wanting to excel in something not many people from this country would do. I'm not pointing out anything, i'm just stating the fact that i would like to go for it and see how far i can go. I'm trying to push myself to the limit like i've never done before. I'm friggin lazy and hate the fact that i am, but maybe with a chance, i could. Just maybe, i could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe knowing that i have all this ability to do all of this does get me thinking of what i want to do in life. I was wondering that if one doesn't work out, what would be my back-up plan? My mum keeps on saying what if that doesn't work out, what am i gonna do? That is the golden question in my daily life of everything teeny weeny thing and every big, large thing. What am i gonna do? It's hard especially when you're in a country where the expectations are a tad bit more than expected. Yea, most people would say, take over Sri Inai. Bwahaha. I would love to really. I like what my mum does currently. Just that what i achieve or accomplish might not satisfy that mark of being my own mother. You know those corny cliche's, i am my mother's daughter, it somehow makes sense in a way i never really knew. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just blog-hopping. Their posts gets me thinking. As always. Thinking, and thinking. And thinking. I hate thinking too much. But i can't help it. Bah. Yesterday was my cousin's birthday. Had a celebration and just hung out with family members. I'm tired and all worked out. My arms from all the hours of practising before exam made my muscles bulge out. I know it sounds weird but i'll show you my arm one day and you'll see. There was no other description. I guess this post really was one of those blablabla, yadda yadda yadda shitty things that somehow stays in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what am i gonna do? I'm going to go grab a bite. That's what i'm gonna do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-869874235530362572?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/869874235530362572/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=869874235530362572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/869874235530362572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/869874235530362572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/09/audacity-of-hope.html' title='My Audacity of Hope.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RtoXNbux2HI/AAAAAAAAAEk/HGabOA4cGKc/s72-c/statement.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6493122398463019998</id><published>2007-08-25T22:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:30.619+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RtA4-Lux2GI/AAAAAAAAAEc/gyLfibilSKg/s1600-h/go+out.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102641018762811490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RtA4-Lux2GI/AAAAAAAAAEc/gyLfibilSKg/s400/go+out.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Went to KDE. Had to teman Faliha for her baby ballet. Was so cute. I felt like wanting to take it up again. *Sigh. Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to school. Mum had a meeting. I had to do my akauns paper. In which i still haven't finished coz the office was closing and i was so sleepy. Haha. Had lunch. Then went home to grab Iyas' tennis stuff and mum dropped me off at KLCC again. I met up with Ka Tat, Kok, Jia Yew and Aqif. Watched Rush-Hour 3. It was so funny. Couldn't stop laughing. The bloopers were even funnier. Bwahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went home at 8pm. Mum picked me up. Chatted with Roslyn for an hour. Nothing big happened today. Just decided to write something. Coz once school starts, i might not write anything at all. Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6493122398463019998?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6493122398463019998/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6493122398463019998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6493122398463019998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6493122398463019998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/08/today.html' title='Today.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RtA4-Lux2GI/AAAAAAAAAEc/gyLfibilSKg/s72-c/go+out.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8683937904156858760</id><published>2007-08-25T02:19:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T02:25:02.025+08:00</updated><title type='text'>La Musique.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="fetish"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;embed name="myflashfetish" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" align="middle" src="http://www.mp3asset.com/swf/mp3/mff-mixtape.swf" width="300" height="185" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="myid=4133019&amp;path=2007/08/24&amp;amp;mycolor=0x000000&amp;mycolor2=0x000000&amp;amp;mycolor3=0xFFFFFF&amp;autoplay=true&amp;amp;rand=0&amp;amp;f=3" wmode="transparent" quality="high"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made this &lt;a href="http://www.myflashfetish.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Flash Music Player&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://www.myflashfetish.com/" target="_blank"&gt;MyFlashFetish&lt;/a&gt;.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="VISIBILITY: hidden" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/counters/dBFII5RbVxUc8nBdc3bMDTvNxh8YPCZT0EgEosybDqqG0C6DxEaPckFwU9JrgyRYpRi4XgyFClIh_3QJ5_u9S-UifY0suDyaOqBJvEYo8gE=.tif" width="0" /&gt;Roslyn and I are obsessed with this song. Don't know why. Haha. We'll be singing it in class everyday. Whee~!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thats it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8683937904156858760?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8683937904156858760/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8683937904156858760&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8683937904156858760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8683937904156858760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/08/div.html' title='La Musique.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5320073915239172457</id><published>2007-08-24T00:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:30.815+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*Winks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rs2__Lux2FI/AAAAAAAAAEU/etLUA47cW8o/s1600-h/Blue.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101945045082298450" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rs2__Lux2FI/AAAAAAAAAEU/etLUA47cW8o/s400/Blue.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've finished my violin exam. GRADE 8 VIOLIN EXAM. DONE. I can rest now. For a while. Until i get to preparing for my diploma. Yikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I changed the skin of my blog as you can see. Shaira helped of course. Thanks again. Urm. Went to watch Tunku-The Musical at KLPac with Aween. Since i'm part of the Sinfonietta, i got 2 complimentary tickets. Righteous. It was good. I liked how they put it and everything. Recognized a few people i've worked with but as always they don't recognize me. Except for one girl, whom i have performed with during Tengku Naqiyuddin's birthday and anniversary to Engku Nurul Hayati a.k.a. Negeri Sembilan Royalty. Hehe. Watching the musical makes me want to perform again. I miss it. I even recognized the orchestra playing for the musical and yea, they don't recognize me. But anyhow, i wouldn't mind being backstage or onstage. I'd rather be onstage, of course coz that's where i'm comfortable. Aween said she wanted to work for me and settle up my performances and all. Be my crew. Roslyn said the same thing when we went to Istana Budaya as a school lawatan. Haha. Them two are totally crazy. I just said to wait until i get famous. Which is like never. Bah. x))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Was speaking to Roslyn. She's in Lumut. Haha. Spoke like we haven't seen each other in years. She's indulging herself and telling me how she loves her dose of Cullen goodness. Shaira, heard that? I introduced it to her. I gotta give her the sequel and Shaira, you gotta give me the next sequel. Lol. What a cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be sleeping. Gotta wake up early since Iyas has his Piano exam tomorrow morning. Mum wants to drop me off at KLCC and get a few things. I'm trying to drag someone since i don't really want to go by myself. I know. I'm just taking advantage of a situation which will never happen to me again. It's okay. I'll be good. I guess. Bwahaha. Bite me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5320073915239172457?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5320073915239172457/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5320073915239172457&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5320073915239172457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5320073915239172457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/08/winks.html' title='*Winks.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rs2__Lux2FI/AAAAAAAAAEU/etLUA47cW8o/s72-c/Blue.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8258206861887367835</id><published>2007-08-22T10:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:31.672+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gwen Stefani concert 07.</title><content type='html'>So, yea. What a trick my mum played on me. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had music class from 2-4pm. Then my mum said, on the way home, we'll go to KLCC at around 6.30pm to buy Raissa's present. So, i just said, yea okay. I was reading a book and fell asleep. My mum woke me up at around 6 saying, 'Wake up, We're going to Gwen Stefani's concert'. I screamed. What the hell? My cousin bought the tickets. I went with Abang Yeop, Kak Ema, and my mum. Yea, not exactly the crowd i wanted to go with but what the heck? As long as i go, i'm fine. Met Kak Sabrina and she's pregnant. Haha. Aween was there. Only saw her from afar. She sat with her sister and Medina. Anyway. Gawd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concert was amazing. I screamed like nobody's buisness. Her clothes and the dancers..Omgawdddd.&lt;br /&gt;shnseykhnlonhxcvhwtweywlhw45oyoib.&lt;br /&gt;There were no words to describe. She even made one round and went near the fans. She sang all the songs. Throughout the whole concert, i stood up and just screamed my heart out. I nearly lost my voice. But i haven't so, yay for me. Bwahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God, PAS didn't cancel the concert, i'd be more miserable since that day, Fara called me and said CBN one was representing KL for the My School Rocks-competition.&lt;br /&gt;*Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusion : I love Gwen. x))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsv-Erux2AI/AAAAAAAAADs/xVY2OYgc_nk/s1600-h/IMG_0827.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101450359339079682" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsv-Erux2AI/AAAAAAAAADs/xVY2OYgc_nk/s320/IMG_0827.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsv-ybux2BI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OimFilPK7FQ/s1600-h/IMG_0856.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101451145318094866" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsv-ybux2BI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OimFilPK7FQ/s320/IMG_0856.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsv_rbux2CI/AAAAAAAAAD8/PWLbihHTZaw/s1600-h/IMG_0866.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101452124570638370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsv_rbux2CI/AAAAAAAAAD8/PWLbihHTZaw/s320/IMG_0866.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RswAILux2DI/AAAAAAAAAEE/dCIo2eCW9F4/s1600-h/IMG_0871.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101452618491877426" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RswAILux2DI/AAAAAAAAAEE/dCIo2eCW9F4/s320/IMG_0871.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To get that t-shirt, such a queue. But in return, my cousin lost his phone. Someone was around to just grab it from his pocket and run. So 'Oliver Twist'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8258206861887367835?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8258206861887367835/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8258206861887367835&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8258206861887367835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8258206861887367835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/08/gwen-stefani-concert-07.html' title='Gwen Stefani concert 07.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsv-Erux2AI/AAAAAAAAADs/xVY2OYgc_nk/s72-c/IMG_0827.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6160743796782137054</id><published>2007-08-19T19:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:32.412+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My School Rocks-Competition.</title><content type='html'>O-my-gawd. We. KICKED. ASS. Big time! Sri Inai was the bomb. Gawd. I'm sorry for sounding so ignorant and shit but screw that, we were good. Compared to the other schools, we were better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CBN was good. I didn't see it. The others did. Our supporters rawked. They screamed like nobody's buisness. I made a mistake. A HUGE mistake. But the others said, it wasn't obvious. I want to do it again. As you might not know, 7 students entered the My School Rocks Competition. 6 girls and 1 boy. 6 girls are Faralyna, Aini Yazurin, Anis Yazmin, Allya Syafiqah, Tiara Goodier and Zayaana Shazlene, ;). Our hero, is of course, Mohd. Aqif.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were the only team with one dude. Haha. We use to have 3 but 2 bailed on us. Gave up. Well, i'm glad we had Aqif only. The team did good. Real good. I don't know la. I just felt we did good and it was worth it. If you go to Allya's blog, she'll post some pictures and maybe a video. I'm not sure. Aini's blog might have some pictures up soon. Anyway. Our costume was nice. Last-minute but good enough. The practises were hard and took up a lot of time and effort. It was worth it. Linda, one of the judges, clapped real hard for us. While we were dancing, she was pointing at me and Fara and saying how we're her students and stuff to the other judge. Haha. All in all. We. Were. Good. Okay la. I'll stop. This is a real vanity type of post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well done, team. I love you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Picture time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RshAqbux19I/AAAAAAAAADU/9811Jz8lQ2w/s1600-h/P8190131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100397675739731922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RshAqbux19I/AAAAAAAAADU/9811Jz8lQ2w/s320/P8190131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RshBoLux1-I/AAAAAAAAADc/AZD8zhu8c44/s1600-h/IMG_0793.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100398736596654050" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RshBoLux1-I/AAAAAAAAADc/AZD8zhu8c44/s320/IMG_0793.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RshC4bux1_I/AAAAAAAAADk/Gu0AtwQIO08/s1600-h/IMG_0797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100400115281156082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RshC4bux1_I/AAAAAAAAADk/Gu0AtwQIO08/s320/IMG_0797.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsg6D7ux18I/AAAAAAAAADM/2DUyKP4kl7g/s1600-h/P8190137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100390417245001666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rsg6D7ux18I/AAAAAAAAADM/2DUyKP4kl7g/s320/P8190137.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=f-0GDHvSqEc"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=f-0GDHvSqEc&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Try going there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6160743796782137054?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6160743796782137054/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6160743796782137054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6160743796782137054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6160743796782137054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-school-rocks-competition.html' title='My School Rocks-Competition.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RshAqbux19I/AAAAAAAAADU/9811Jz8lQ2w/s72-c/P8190131.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7130549546817598404</id><published>2007-08-14T20:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T20:55:20.457+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Low self-confidence.</title><content type='html'>I'm warning everyone. This is gonna be one of those depressing posts where everyone's gonna say 'aww, grow up, you fool,' so. Don't bother reading. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low self-confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always had it. Never wanted to show it to the whole world. But i do. Everyone does. I guess. In some ways kot. My violin exams are coming next week. My teachers say i have low self-confidence. I can play the pieces. My rhythm and timing is there. Intonation is weak at most areas. But yet, i sound muffled, weak and uncertain. Seriously. Maybe i am uncertain. Maybe i am weak. No, i AM weak. I hate sounding muffled. I hate my intonation. Yea i know. I don't sound like i'm doing anything about it. I am. I'm just.. &lt;em&gt;tired.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the toilets. No one knows what you're doing except yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong. I didn't do anything stupid or whatever. Honestly. I just had a rough day the other week. Not like i don't have bad days anyway. I've been indulging myself with food. I don't know but i seem to be eating more than i should. Here it goes again. I'll cut back i guess. But my dad was right. When you're down, food comforts you in some ways you didn't think it would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The competition's soon. The My School Rocks thing. Yea, i'm in it. It's really frustrating when you depend on some people and they don't go to your expectations. Call me a hypocrite coz i know i don't exactly go to anyone's expectations. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother's got it hard. Next week is violin AND piano exams. Then the week after is UPSR. I pity him but i'm guessing he needs this kind of push. I had it. I still do. His turn. *whistle*&lt;br /&gt;I know. I'm evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. I got in. To what? That's for me to know and for you to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7130549546817598404?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7130549546817598404/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7130549546817598404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7130549546817598404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7130549546817598404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/08/low-self-confidence.html' title='Low self-confidence.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6011184928030828290</id><published>2007-08-04T00:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:20:52.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daze.</title><content type='html'>I need to form a couple of 8's for HSM auditions. I need to practise my violin for exams (23rd). I need sleep. I need liquids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i'm dehydrating. Boo-boo. Not good. Especially in my condition. O well. Sucks for that. Merdeka celebration is coming. Loads of things to do for that. HSM auditions coming up. Dance is still not finished. Violin. Okay. I'm repeating the same thing. Anyway. Assessment 4 is 2 weeks away. Iyas' birthday too. I haven't gotten him anything. And by that, i mean a card. For that, i'm generous. Enough. Im broke. Gimme a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been fasting this whole week. It's been a bit of a lonely week as to hang out in the library by myself. Even if i do sit with them, they'll attempt to give me a bit and i have to decline. Well. 2 more days to go until i've finished replacing a week. Whee~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been on a downloading frenzy since the songs in my computer got deleted. And so, i've started downloading songs, courtesy of Shaira, giving me who and what to download. I've been downloading a lot of Colbie Caillat and India Arie. No relevance between the two but i guess, that shows how my sense in music is pretty wide? Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been wearing my glasses all the time now. I've made it a habit. And now, when i take 'em off, i can't see a thing. These genes are not something i'm so proud of to have. But my sisters and dad wears glasses too so, i'm not alone. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should sleep soon. I need to be able to wake up in the mornings la. Any ideas how? I'm all ears. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, Roslyn? Our books seems to be getting along quite nicely. Haha. &lt;3~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6011184928030828290?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6011184928030828290/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6011184928030828290&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6011184928030828290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6011184928030828290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/08/daze.html' title='Daze.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6446890439075529862</id><published>2007-07-25T20:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T21:21:50.695+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny.</title><content type='html'>I finished Harry Potter. Was a relief and a sad moment. Haha. I wish there was more. I'm gonna miss my dose of laughter from Ronald Weasley. I love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been kinda slow since everything that was done for last Saturday was as quick as lightning. We had Pesta Ria, a.k.a. School Carnival or whatever. So, we raised a lot and lost a lot too. After paying everyone what we owed and shit, we ended with little and decided to not get anything out of it. Haha. Call us stupid or whatever but we had fun. Just a few mishaps about this and that. That's all. So, i was the one in charge of face-painting. I literally painted about 20 faces. Kids of all ages. My friends, little ones and several big ones too. My face was covered with different coraks and my body with tattoos. I wore a Harry Potter t-shirt (Shaira, burrow yea? x) ) And wore Iyas' wizard hat from Disney land. Everyone thought i was losing my head with the face and the get-up. It was all good fun. Went to the haunted house at Tadika. Gawd, that scared the shit out of me, coz it was extremely scary. Yea, you may say, Tadika jer, but it  definately made my heart jump. I went in with Nazman and Aizat which in the end, ended up hugging each other instead of shielding me. Well. As i said, good fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week. Well, my violin exams are in a month. Gwen Stefani's concert's in a month too. Whoo-boy. Gotta get my fingers cracking. I got 2 violins to choose from. My teacher made me decide which to choose. I don't know as the new one which is rm23000, by the way, is good when i do the high positions but i still like my old one too. And well, just really mind-boggling to think of that. It's really important. Argh. Damn these bloody decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My conclusion is that  I love Ronald Weasley.  Hermione's brilliant and cheers for Harry Potter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6446890439075529862?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6446890439075529862/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6446890439075529862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6446890439075529862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6446890439075529862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/07/funny.html' title='Funny.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1447476032584990064</id><published>2007-07-14T20:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T20:28:19.159+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Basics.</title><content type='html'>Well. I went out today. Wasn't as fun as i thought it would be. Things change. People change. The cycle goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty much not in a good mood. Haven't been for the past week and i'm thinking the weeks to come as i'll be busy with practising for upcoming violin exams. The HSBC'S Classics String festival went good. As the 2nd violinist of the string orchestra, we had a full house and our audience made us do an encore that really boost up our adrenaline. Haha. It was fun and rewarding. Couldn't see the audience much with the seating always being switched around. All in all, it went alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, i will officially be a prefect of Sri Inai. No more on probation. I got my black shoes. All that's left is my long-sleeve shirts which i have yet to find. The one's from school are huge and so, we will be going to Midvalley tomorrow to go and see. Haha. I know. Midvalley for school shirts? Well, it was just for a change of perspective. We're going to Jj's, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to start over my sleeping cycle. It's falling apart ever since i came home late after rehearsals at KLPac. I want to be able to wake up in the mornings. I want to be able to just sleep for a few hours. I'd sometimes rather not sleep and do all that is needed instead of sleeping. But, yes. Sleeping is essential. Nyeh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get into shape again. Next week is also the starting of our gymrama for Pesta Ria/ Parent's and Teachers' meet. And i shall puasa that whole week. Don't tell me not to. I need to start or else i'll never finish. Just hopefully my medication won't take a toll on me and make me faint or whatever. Thus, i need to get into shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My computer's out. Had to be fixed so many times. I haven't even charged my Zen which i desperately want to but because it's always hanging, i'm scared that it might affect the computer once i install my Zen. So much for our technology. O well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alysha left for Melbourne. I'm alone here. My sisters' ain't here. Alysha was all i had left. How depressing. It sucks coz now i won't be able to hang out with her if our mothers' have some lunch gathering or something like that. I know she's coming back in September but it won't be the same as she'll have to go back again. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1447476032584990064?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1447476032584990064/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1447476032584990064&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1447476032584990064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1447476032584990064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/07/back-to-basics.html' title='Back to Basics.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7281472743221970780</id><published>2007-07-04T19:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T19:38:22.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'>emBrace me.</title><content type='html'>Today was one of the worst days a student could have. If you're in my position, well, the characters only will be changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a hell of a scolding from my mom. The whole school kena. Ye la. Today's Wednesday and of course, we have difficulty in making sure every student has his or her scarf, blablabla. So, my mum sorta rampas my classmate's phone, i don't know the hell why and gave us a real piece of her mind. Then she made the people who didn't have the full attire to stand in the sun while us, prefects got a whole scolding from her pulak. After that, i made a scene. I won't elaborate. I looked horrible. That's it. Then, we got back up to class to grab our clothes and change into our Pandu Puteri Baju. When we got up, En. Harmizee was there and he didn't do anything. The whole period, we didn't do anything. He was pissed. We felt his vibe but we didn't wanna push it. We sorta knew how angry he was when we finished Pandu Puteri. The boys hadn't come out yet but white shoes and socks were scattered at the badminton court. We assumed that he had thrown it out of the classroom. The boys were pissed, i bet. As for us, prefects, tomorrow's prefect's meeting and i'm sure we will be given a piece of Pn. Mas' mind pulak. Kill me. Kill me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've braces on. They're torturing me bit by bit. The more days pass by, the more i get reckless and tired and just emotionally unstable. I can't eat, i can't sleep. I constantly have to still eat my pills which now just makes my headaches double the pain. I'm tired. I can't do anything. I've been just swallowing whatever that can be swallowed and to tell you the truth, that's not much. Thank God, exams are done. Just gotta concentrate on my violin. I've been progressing but it's still not enough as usual. It's hard for me to practise coz my jaw hurts so bad. I hate this. I hate all of this. As i said, kill me. Kill me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7281472743221970780?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7281472743221970780/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7281472743221970780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7281472743221970780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7281472743221970780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/07/embrace-me.html' title='emBrace me.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1721566051436177841</id><published>2007-06-21T07:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T07:12:55.171+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bwahahaha.</title><content type='html'>Faliha has done it again. But better this time. I swear, it'll knock your socks off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept around 10.30pm last night thinking i can wake up early in the morning. Then i sorta woke up at 12.30am. And to my surprise, my toilet door was open. That scared me but because i was too sleepy, i couldn't care less then. As i woke up, i got into the shower and came out. Lol. Mama and Daddy were outside knocking on their door to their room. It was so loud coz mama was just screaming 'Faliha! Faliha!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a peek and found my dad asleep on the couch. My mum was wearing my sister's pj's. Apparently, Faliha locked the door last night and slept in my mum's room the whole night. By herself. My parents had to sleep on the couch. Kesian giler. My mum was knocking and knocking, trying to wake her up. Then, dad had a go. And he was sorta banging the door and screaming louder than mama. That was when half-asleep Faliha opened the door. Mama sorta marah'ed her but i just told them to hurry up and get ready for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Funny or not? I guess, it's one of thies you've-got-to-be-there types of moments. Well, it sure put me in a cheery mood since later, after school, i got to go through the agony of pulling 2 out again. The wires are on Monday. I'm friggin' happy. *sarcastic face*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1721566051436177841?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1721566051436177841/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1721566051436177841&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1721566051436177841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1721566051436177841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/06/bwahahaha.html' title='Bwahahaha.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-3597302844381645105</id><published>2007-06-12T22:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T22:55:25.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Outta control.</title><content type='html'>And so. I am about to lose my mind. My insanity just popped in for a 'chat'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loads of homework. Loads. If you wanna see the list, head to Roslyn, although, you switch the Chemistry with Accounts. You know at my links, there's her name. Click it twice. It's easy. Boo. My fingers hurt from the violin. I need to cut my nails. I'm like typing this in the dark. I'm such an idiot. Gawd. Exams are next week and i'm not prepared. Haha. Ain't that a big whoop? Nyeh. I get headaches every 24-7. I think i've officially stopped eating lunch. Yea. It's like a preparation for my braces. I'm pulling 2 out this Thursday. Everyone knows how that's gonna be. I also might miss Prefects' meeting which i so hate. Coz if i do then i'd have to write a letter and that would be my 2nd time not attending. Yes, the first time was also because of an orthodontist appointment. Why do dentists have to arrange appointments on those lovely days where we're swamped with everything and anything? Huh? Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I hate poppin' pills everyday. I'm sick of carrying a pill box everywhere i go. I hate it. I. H.A.T.E. I.T. Why? You seriously wanna know why? I'll tell you why. It's cause it's blinking frustrating to remember to take them every day and night. And if you take it at the right time, then all the better. But since i'm so shitty and i go all emo, i take it at the wrong time. Don't get me started on that. Trust me, you don't wanna friggin' know. I hate pills. I hate them. I hate them to guts. They give me headaches and that feeling of wanting to puke all the time. I even went so crazy i made a song about puking. I don't remember it but i'm sure i made it. Stupid bloody pills. I feel like some sick child walking around. Argh. I'm not sick. I don't want to take them anymore. I don't want them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahgbiewrut gaolughqielhdsuiga beoifhoni4vowitbgvwe3426y7v3 nkdf vzolhstvlzxchb  bighsdi hvhilg yzsidhe sudhbtloaiweh hds dshtloabh zodshst biuewob5435v eih  iweh oidsyh t hgsodih5 gh osh trbiohoidy baoiwj;vg  aehwbgtiu iueawtylbwiueht 439 4b98yuasb 63kw4h 89rue 4biou8 baihbifsekh5 b8rygtba w4h5 i7fvsyl 5be8f7aw9b e5gk.4h v8dyz 5h biu ygdz oh 5b8oz.eta43w5 bpds9z5 vuiydozth big3u4yt0 9dszyh;3wo05ub-a23yhgboihu 98rs5bg o ydf98 ba;359ap[ewtq23 hbiyzss0rvua4t[q290etb=q2gb5896 fa=hb 49 [b`2y ewaioty1[5w5`-b 8e4wy5b ;oid ug09 uzhtstig'trg][ ]aret-89 oiurt\40un6w3 n =6b0 -0586 hoi34t=34q 9436=b934u609234\ 346=tgb0349u6h092j34t \t43ihb -0\ 043uiu \4 -043oqtjew[rt4 b iorhtgo234 i4u63pgb34 6843y5p[o34iuhb 436ihbo4;3otiubhn4i6hp[b= reio6thb[i5hnb5o4-54hifgoeri niotgb3o ouvq6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me started on that. Or else i just might be starting another paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-3597302844381645105?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/3597302844381645105/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=3597302844381645105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3597302844381645105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3597302844381645105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/06/outta-control.html' title='Outta control.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4205555774626757278</id><published>2007-06-08T22:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T22:08:08.014+08:00</updated><title type='text'>End.</title><content type='html'>The holidays are ending. Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get back to practising. I need to get back to exercising. I'm rotting like nobody's buisness. I need some positivity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big exam: ABRSM Grade 8 Violin, 23rd August.&lt;br /&gt;Help. Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh. This sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4205555774626757278?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4205555774626757278/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4205555774626757278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4205555774626757278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4205555774626757278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/06/end.html' title='End.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-2222687328386977920</id><published>2007-05-31T21:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T21:56:37.368+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holidays 2.</title><content type='html'>Frankly speaking, holidays should be fun. But they're not as fun as when your friends go on the school trip and you don't. Boo hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, i've been to a party. Slept over at Aween's. Went to Watch Pirates 3 and Blades of Glory. I've been practising. That's all i can do at the moment. Seeing as the exam is practically 2 months away. I'm scared. But this time, maybe i'll try and find a way to get a merit. I'll be on my knees thanking God if i have a merit. If i get a distinction, i'd beat myself up until i wake up from my sleep. Maybe, this year, i can pass. Maybe. I'm not sure. I'm just trying to be positive. Don't get me all pessimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had my interview. Thank God it's done. Bought a puzzle. That should keep me busy. It's for me and Iyas but seeing that his UPSR is soon, so I'd be doing most of it. Also because it's 1000 pieces. Haha. What else? Hrrm. I watched Marie Antoinette with my mum. I love the costume. I wish i was in one. It's beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That should sum it all up for now. My life is pretty dull since you hear me say practise, practise, practise. Haha. Boo hoo for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-2222687328386977920?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/2222687328386977920/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=2222687328386977920&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2222687328386977920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/2222687328386977920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/05/holidays_31.html' title='Holidays 2.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8084305425006288165</id><published>2007-05-26T09:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T09:52:24.198+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holidays.</title><content type='html'>So, our concert finished. Finally. Boo hoo actually coz i enjoyed the practises. Anyway, holidays just started and i've got a tonne of practising to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Violin exam's in 2 months time. I need to get some serious shit done or else. I'm not going anywhere for the holidays. Not to Sydney, no. I've got this interview on Thursday. It's really important. Everyone else is going on the School trip to Pangkor. If only they changed the dates. But since i'm Pn. Suflina's daughter, they would think it's unfair and so they kept the dates. Yea, what goes around comes back around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched Pirates of the Caribbean 3. It's really good. Watched it with Aween, Martina and Faizal. It wasn't full so we got pretty good seats. It's was cold than usual though. My bad. I do want to go out again soon but i'm not sure if my parents will give me the green light. O, i've decided not to go for LJ's anymore. All my other classmates have become teachers of their own classes and i'm stuck in my dance class with some gay replacement as a teacher. I want a consistent dance school not some bapok mania get-together. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got homework to do. Haha. Accounts and Science. Good thing i like Science. I don't know about Accounts though. I usually fail. What can i say? I'm a terrible student. I need to get into shape. I need exercise. Hopefully my tennis classes increase or something. I need a form of exercise before i rot and become Mr. Potato head in Toy Story. No, Mrs. Potato head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of bad parts happened during our concert. Especially me forgetting the lyrics, Naqiuddin saying into the michrophone and asking as loud as possible if we needed to do again since there were some technical difficulties, Hang Jebat running into a tree (Bah!) , Aqif's tie falling down and Harveen not appearing in my mambo. Harveen owes me big time. I was mostly angry at Naqiuddin for our part. Nobody wanted to go near me that night. Well, a certain few, Ashley and Roslyn. I love them. My South Pacific ladies. Haha. We were good then. It was so much fun. Backstage, tadika, we had black-outs. Twice. Juniors screaming ghost, ghost and just being scared while us Seniors yelling at them to just shut up. We're such a happy school. Fasha Sandha came and Zainal Abidin came to see. We had a cake-cutting ceremony. I felt so happy Sri Inai turned 30. Lol. Bangga Sri Inai. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8084305425006288165?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8084305425006288165/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8084305425006288165&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8084305425006288165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8084305425006288165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/05/holidays.html' title='Holidays.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6576756859005749505</id><published>2007-05-16T21:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T21:28:56.949+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Would that make you love me more?</title><content type='html'>If I wasnt who I was,&lt;br /&gt;If I wasnt me&lt;br /&gt;Would you stand next 2 me in the street?&lt;br /&gt;If I changed my hair,&lt;br /&gt;Would you then be proud?&lt;br /&gt;If I ran round town with a different crowd&lt;br /&gt;Would you be my baby?&lt;br /&gt;If I had more money&lt;br /&gt;Would that make you love me more&lt;br /&gt;Would that make you love me more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I practiced a different religion,&lt;br /&gt;If I spoke my words differently&lt;br /&gt;If I changed my tune to your favorite song&lt;br /&gt;Would u wrap your arms around me?&lt;br /&gt;If I dug down deep to the bottom&lt;br /&gt;Would you love me unconditionally?&lt;br /&gt;If I sound like you and we laugh the same&lt;br /&gt;Would u mind if I hang around?&lt;br /&gt;Would that make you love me more&lt;br /&gt;Would that make you love me more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I came to you from a different place,&lt;br /&gt;Would my message finally be heard?&lt;br /&gt;If its just me and you and there's no one else&lt;br /&gt;Would u see how much we're the same?&lt;br /&gt;Would you be my lover&lt;br /&gt;If I'm a different color&lt;br /&gt;Would you be my brother&lt;br /&gt;Would that make you love me more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6576756859005749505?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6576756859005749505/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6576756859005749505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6576756859005749505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6576756859005749505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/05/would-that-make-you-love-me-more.html' title='Would that make you love me more?'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-6511709016716020720</id><published>2007-05-14T18:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:32.808+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My shoes.</title><content type='html'>I'm so gonna treasure these for the rest of my life. I'm not much of a shopper so when i have things like these, i tend to just stick to them and nothing else. At least, i think so. Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rkg5prEAU5I/AAAAAAAAAC8/qwBqr86lzHI/s1600-h/Guess+shoe+box.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064361169075065746" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rkg5prEAU5I/AAAAAAAAAC8/qwBqr86lzHI/s320/Guess+shoe+box.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shoe box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rkg55LEAU6I/AAAAAAAAADE/6bmP1u200AQ/s1600-h/white+shoes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064361435363038114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rkg55LEAU6I/AAAAAAAAADE/6bmP1u200AQ/s320/white+shoes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The contents of the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-6511709016716020720?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/6511709016716020720/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=6511709016716020720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6511709016716020720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/6511709016716020720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-shoes.html' title='My shoes.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rkg5prEAU5I/AAAAAAAAAC8/qwBqr86lzHI/s72-c/Guess+shoe+box.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4493064052022675599</id><published>2007-05-13T23:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:32.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SIngapore.</title><content type='html'>So, i went to Singapore with my whole familia plus my auntie and cousins. We watched The Phantom of the Opera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The costumes were incredible. The vocals were fantastic. The music was spectacular. The setting was amazing. Everything about the whole play was 'phenomenal'. We were on the road from school right after lunch. Had a few pitt-stops. We were late for 5 minutes or so, but we didn't miss much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day we went shopping from 10-6. We walked and walked and walked. Everyone bought something except my mum. Poor her. I got a $9 jacket. It was on sale. I'm such a cheapskate. Anyway. I was trying to find shoes. I tried on about thousands and couldn't find the right one. When i say the right one, it means the right style AND the right price. Of course, in Singapore, everything is times 2. And it's just a slap in the face once you convert it to ringgit Malaysia. Practically all the sales promoters thought we were Indonesian until we started speaking in English like we were Singaporeans ourselves. Mama Yom/Auntie bought 2 sets of jewellery from Tangs. And that's when the guy at the next counter selling jewellery himself said.... 'hi'. Lol. We spoke for a couple of minutes. He was hot, mind you. I noticed him from afar but sajer la. Smile, smile only. Pfft. LAME-ALERT. Anyway, i wanted to go back this morning since we decided to skip orchestra and the whole rushing to get back mumbo-jumbo but couldn't. *Sigh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lol. I got my shoes. I GOT THEM! Muahahaha. I'll upload the picture later. All i can tell you is that they're from Guess by Marciano. *sniggers*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture i took while i was in Selesa with the Ruslan fam. I..WE were cam-whoring that day. We had nothing better to do while waiting for the sauna to be empty. x)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RkcyubEAU4I/AAAAAAAAAC0/9-AfVS_fR_s/s1600-h/selesa+trip.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064072079121339266" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RkcyubEAU4I/AAAAAAAAAC0/9-AfVS_fR_s/s320/selesa+trip.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lol. U.G.LY. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4493064052022675599?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4493064052022675599/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4493064052022675599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4493064052022675599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4493064052022675599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/05/singapore.html' title='SIngapore.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RkcyubEAU4I/AAAAAAAAAC0/9-AfVS_fR_s/s72-c/selesa+trip.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-410395521436934857</id><published>2007-04-30T22:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T22:53:09.082+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Road trip.</title><content type='html'>Well, Tuesday and Wednesday are holidays for us. Wesak day and Labour day. I thought i'd just stay at home and do useless things to keep me busy but my friends made me plan otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roslyn has invited me to spend the night at her house in Pahang. Ashley and Aween are coming too. We've always wanted to do this. We've always planned it but never really carried it out. So, nows our chance. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna drive up. Then, Roslyn wants us to go swimming and hiking and just pig out like we always do. But since there's a gym there, we're gonna be working out too. Just a little bit. And to cool off, we'll be in the sauna. Fun fun. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-410395521436934857?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/410395521436934857/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=410395521436934857&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/410395521436934857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/410395521436934857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/04/road-trip.html' title='Road trip.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4841458425915678009</id><published>2007-04-24T22:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T22:42:22.119+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Takziah to all.</title><content type='html'>A few weeks before, an ex-inaian aside Sing Hing, from Sri Inai Pj  passed away. The family were good friends to my grandparents. And now, on behalf of my family and i plus a few other people, we just wanna ucap takziah to my classmate, Faralyna of her Mother's passing at 2.10am this morning. God loves her as much as you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4841458425915678009?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4841458425915678009/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4841458425915678009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4841458425915678009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4841458425915678009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/04/takziah-to-all.html' title='Takziah to all.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-3787168862732040298</id><published>2007-04-19T23:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T23:34:59.747+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So.</title><content type='html'>So, Here's my update. It's not interesting as i always say but for those crazy brains who go shooting around like at Virginia Tech then yea, maybe it's one hell of an update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished our assessment paper. Time to relax? Never. I've never actually relaxed down. Maybe i'm just lazy. Hell, i don't know what i am. I hate this. My friends. They go saying they don't know what they want to be when they grow up. I just say i'm not sure. And there they go saying, 'but you've got your violin and your dancing and your music.' That's all bullshit, everyone. I'm full of shit saying i wanna do music. Maybe my mum was right. I don't have the passion for it. I can't really go for dancing. It's not right for a Malay woman working as a dancer in Malaysia. What will my grandparents say? Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 15. Just 15. Do i look old? Do i sound old? Am i too matured for my age? Wait, don't answer that. Okay yea, as you can see. This is one of those updates where i just go bah. And that's it. I always say i need more of this and more of that. When i should be saying what i should i do with what i have. And yet, i'm still on my lazy friggin ass not doing anything about it. My brain. I can practically hear it sizzle everytime i do something. When i do my scales or try to coordinate my fingers left and right on the piano, i get mentally tired. I get mentally tired too fast. Too, too fast. And i hate it. Once i'm that tired, i can't think straight. And there i go being all emo. Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been keeping up to date with my medication. Okay. I sound like a sick person. God forbid, of course. I've got 2 pills to take. But one of them has to be taken twice a day. It makes me tired. It gets me dizzy. I get dehydrated. I practically have a cold sore because of it. My body is still not showing signs of abnormalty and that's not such a good thing. If it doesn't show then why am i taking these darn pills? I'm carrying around this pill box which can be seen through my pockets. I hate it. I went to the dentist. I had an x-ray done. I have a big jaw. I'm ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what have we concluded today in this pathetic update? I'm ugly. I'm clueless of my future. I'm mentally tired. And let's just add one more for fun. I'm physically disoriented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-3787168862732040298?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/3787168862732040298/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=3787168862732040298&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3787168862732040298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/3787168862732040298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/04/so.html' title='So.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1600014542197792417</id><published>2007-04-16T20:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:33.125+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Save Me From Myself by Christina Aguilera.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RiNvxDVxmcI/AAAAAAAAACs/rJfvKQvB7-w/s1600-h/lonely.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not so easy loving me&lt;br /&gt;It gets so complicated&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the things you've gotta be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything's changin'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you're the truth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm amazed by all your patience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything I put you through&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I'm about to fall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somehow you're always waitin'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with your open arms to catch me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're gonna save me from myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;from myself, yes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're gonna save me from myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My love is tainted by your touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cuz some guys have shown me aces&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you've got that royal flush&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it's crazy everyday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well tomorrow may be shaky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you never turn away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me why I'm cryin'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cuz when I start to crumble&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know how to keep me smilin'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You always save me from myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;from myself, myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're gonna save me from myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it's hard, it's hard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you've broken all my walls&lt;br /&gt;You've been my strength, so strong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And don't ask me why I love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's obvious your tenderness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is what I need to make me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a better woman to myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to myself, myself&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna save me from myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1600014542197792417?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1600014542197792417/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1600014542197792417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1600014542197792417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1600014542197792417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/04/save-me-from-myself-by-christina.html' title='Save Me From Myself by Christina Aguilera.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-8031520484135320009</id><published>2007-04-14T12:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T12:41:15.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My apologies.</title><content type='html'>Sorry to not have updated for so long to those who do read this shit of a blog. Anyway. Maulidur Rasul celebration was held in school so we were a bit busy ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside that. I'm at Alysha's house today. Her birthday was yesterday so we went for dinner. So, i'm sleeping over her house for the whole weekend. I played tennis today and got my hair done. That's what i get for sleeping over. Haha. Well, all in all, i'm still thankful. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been asked to perform at KLPAC again. The orchestra told me to come for rehearsals on Sunday. Time to head back to the all-chinese orchestra but this time with a twist. My brother's in as well. Whoo-boy. I'm still 2nd violin and apparently Iyas is 3rd. Lol. I guess they wanted as many people. I sure hope that the first violinists aren't that big. Feel so weird being surrounded by better violinists. Feel left-out that's all. I don't really know what we're playing for but all i know, it's this coming Sunday. -_-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm suppose to go and watch AF with Alysha and her friends. but they're not sure if they can get the tickets. I don't mind if i go or not. I'm not so much of a fan of AF. She is so, i'm just going coz i was invited. Her friends have been there the whole morning but they're still trying to get the tickets. Well, we'll just see how it goes i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm taking art too. It's extremely hard seeing that i haven't been drawing for ages. I don't even know if i have the knack for it in the first place. It's during prep time so my school days are all full. I'm a prefect so meaning going home at 5 on Thursdays because of the prefects meeting has to be a usual thing now. Boo. I'm trying to finish this book i bought. It's called Fastings, Feastings by Anita Desai. It's for my literature class. It's quite interesting seeing how it's based on how indians live. There's that and The Heart of Glass by Zoey Dean. Yes, Shaira, i bought it. Muahaha. I'm not sending it until i read it. Boo. ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-8031520484135320009?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/8031520484135320009/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=8031520484135320009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8031520484135320009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/8031520484135320009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-apologies.html' title='My apologies.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5961457214755287715</id><published>2007-04-04T09:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T09:20:22.289+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustrating.</title><content type='html'>Not that i'm gonna be talking good stuff but it's mostly of crap. So. Yea. Lol. Nevermind. Loads been happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Sport's Day, we just sorta had to clean up our acts. I'm on probation as a prefect so it's practically shit from here on out with Pn Mas, Shaira's favourite teacher. *Sniggers* Anyway, i came to school late. Twice. I'll never be able to hear the end of this. Boo. My eyes been really itchy. I don't know why. It hurts so much. I feel like just taking my eyeball out of the socket and washing it until it's scrubbed clean. Literally. So, aside that. I had to take my passport photos yesterday for some stuff and i looked messy because of my hair. And i'm fatter. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to do something. I feel like a sloth. Bring me to a tennis court or bring me to a swimming pool. Anything. I need to exercise. I've not been going to Dance class since Linda's always sending in asshole shit replacements who have no sense of dancing. So, i rather not go. It's frustrating to just go there and hear them being all nice and saying, " I don't do warm-up so kiter dance terus, okay?" Geez. Everyone does warm-up, you moron!!! @#%@#^$%$%@^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna take up tennis soon. Yay. Ayah Ed threw in a tennis racquet with the 'deal' he made. So, hopefully i'll be playing tennis soon. My friends and i plan to go out this Saturday. We're watching some scary movie but me and Ashley just lied saying we're watching Meet the Robinsons instead. Lol. It's gonna be one hell of a night. Iyas has a violin audition this Sunday i think. I don't know how he's gonna make it. I still need to practise my grade 8 pieces. And Auntie Lina's daughter, Irina is in my class now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raissa said the most heart-breaking thing. Well, not to me but to my violin teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. D: How long have you not seen Raissa?&lt;br /&gt;Me: For quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. D: Do you call her?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, Iyas calls her brothers. If we do try to call her, the phone wouldn't answer.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. D: Well, she saw you all last week, and she said it was good to have seen you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, she saw us going into the shop while she was already in the car. And it wasn't exactly that we had a conversation but just from afar and she said that. Kesian giler. T_T I feel so bad now. My teacher told me to call her some time. It would be easier if her mother would pick up the phone. @^@#$%&amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got nothing much to do except practise. And just get my grades up for 'school'. Other than that, if things go well, then i'm good to go. *sighs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5961457214755287715?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5961457214755287715/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5961457214755287715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5961457214755287715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5961457214755287715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/04/frustrating.html' title='Frustrating.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-1305645447283071772</id><published>2007-03-26T13:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:33.595+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hana Yori Dango and Sports 07.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So. I just finished watching this drama. It has season 1 and 2. And it so 'a-must-watch'! I love it. It's so good. It has Matsumoto Jun and Oguri Shun, Inoe Mao and also some other hottie people which i'm sure most would love looking at. Yes, it's japanese but still, *melts*!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RgdiuzWW6LI/AAAAAAAAACc/SZQ7qH3zx7o/s1600-h/Matsumoto+Jun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046110463689418930" style="WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px" height="98" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RgdiuzWW6LI/AAAAAAAAACc/SZQ7qH3zx7o/s320/Matsumoto+Jun.jpg" width="201" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;      &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RgdjjjWW6MI/AAAAAAAAACk/OTrH19ltRPM/s1600-h/Inoue+Mao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046111369927518402" style="WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px" height="127" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RgdjjjWW6MI/AAAAAAAAACk/OTrH19ltRPM/s320/Inoue+Mao.jpg" width="115" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try downloading it. Hana Yori Dango. Season 1 and 2. It's based on a Manga. It's funny and cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just finished Sport's day. Jerai won gymrama. Tahan won overall. Olahragawan is Naqiuddin. Olahragawati is Nisha. Tarik Tali, guys won twice for Jerai. Jerai girls lost to Tahan. Started around 9 and finished at 11. Aki kinda marah-ed us for not singing Negaraku properly. Haha. Well, all's well that end's well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RgdhbzWW6II/AAAAAAAAACE/-6AT6va6dUo/s1600-h/Matsumoto+Jun.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Rgdh9zWW6JI/AAAAAAAAACM/4q-aSIhEEO4/s1600-h/hana+yori+dango.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-1305645447283071772?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/1305645447283071772/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=1305645447283071772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1305645447283071772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/1305645447283071772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/03/hana-yori-dango-and-sports-07.html' title='Hana Yori Dango and Sports 07.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RgdiuzWW6LI/AAAAAAAAACc/SZQ7qH3zx7o/s72-c/Matsumoto+Jun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-793558905604608598</id><published>2007-03-13T20:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:33.768+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My red lips.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RfaY0XnZBDI/AAAAAAAAAB8/FvHNvGV9sdY/s1600-h/red+lips.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041384858347701298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RfaY0XnZBDI/AAAAAAAAAB8/FvHNvGV9sdY/s320/red+lips.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Read my lips. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;N.E.E.D. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E.X.C.I.T.E.M.E.N.T..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm bored out of my mind. I need something to do to make me wanna be alive again. I can go nuts just sitting in my room and practising all day long. I love my violin but i love my life too. How sad am i? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-793558905604608598?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/793558905604608598/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=793558905604608598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/793558905604608598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/793558905604608598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-red-lips.html' title='My red lips.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/RfaY0XnZBDI/AAAAAAAAAB8/FvHNvGV9sdY/s72-c/red+lips.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-4987063030135626336</id><published>2007-03-09T22:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T23:21:13.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged.</title><content type='html'>You see, i got tagged by the darling Allya. So, since it's the holidays and i'm bored out of my mind, i decided to do it. No harm, no foul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rules &amp; Regulations:&lt;br /&gt;Each player of this game starts out by giving 6 weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state the rules clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. After you do that, leave them each a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. See a Penny, pick it up. All day long, you'll have good luck.&lt;br /&gt;Most might know but i've rarely heard anyone do it. I collect one cents. No, not foreign coins but Malaysian One cents. I've got an account full of it. I've been collecting since i was 8. It's not been long but it's a lot of effort. The weird thing is, everytime i see one, i pick it up. No matter where it is. From Stadiums, carparks to drains and between the smallest of cracks. I'll take 'em no matter how long it takes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Just blow.&lt;br /&gt;I can't do it. I'll put my lips together and blow but no sound will come out of it. My sister and dad can do it. I can't. I've tried so many times to whistle. Especially when i was younger. But i just gave up and never bothered again. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Japanese and French culture.&lt;br /&gt;Lol. You may laugh at this one but most of you know it. I have a thing for Japanese dramas. Lol. I'll watch them no matter how late it is or how long it is. Even if i sleep throught it, i'll just watch it from start. I just like the language and their customs. How the express their feelings in such different ways. And i've never been to Japan so, i only know it through these dramas. I'm also into French. I took a course once. I know a few words but that's it. I didn't learn much but i wished i did coz i think the language is like one of the most romantic languages in the world. The usage of the words in their language is incredible. You'll even fall in love with it before knowing the person himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Alternative rock.&lt;br /&gt;No. Not in my book. You wanna reccommend Coldplay or Snow Patrol to me, you better forget it. I'm just not interested in it. I'm more jazzy. Old school music and when i say old school, i mean Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole and Ella Fitzgerald. You wanna talk to me about them, i'll be on my toes. But alternative rock, sorry. Nuh-uh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Red as ketchup.&lt;br /&gt;Ahaks. Yea. I hate it. I've tried so many times and i hate it. Everyone i know eats it. But not me. I just don't. Why? Coz it's not to my liking. I nearly puked after just having a taste of it. That's why i'm quite fussy with food. It's gotta be to my liking or else i won't eat it. Even if my stomach is growling like anything, i wouldn't. It once made noises during a round in the Forensics comp. Gawd. It was embarrassing. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Animals.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not an animal person. If someone comes up to me and says how cute their cat is dog or whatever, i'll just yea, okay. I'm sorry, guys. But i don't like any type of animal whatsoever. I have a fish but i don't look at it. People say that a person who doesn't like animals are not loving. Don't get me wrong, i can be loving. Just not to animals. I do feel sorry for people who have lost their pets. But that's all i can say coz i can't relate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People i have tagged:&lt;br /&gt;SHAIRA/NADHIR/ROSLYN/ISRAK/AMIRUL/JOHAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-4987063030135626336?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/4987063030135626336/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=4987063030135626336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4987063030135626336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/4987063030135626336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/03/tagged.html' title='Tagged.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-5025199433985867855</id><published>2007-03-08T19:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:07:33.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't matter.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Re_3l4qfRaI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Dz5rjkQ4wEE/s1600-h/collage1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039518738288690594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Re_3l4qfRaI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Dz5rjkQ4wEE/s320/collage1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So. Exams. Done. Yay. So. Now. My turn to do some publicity about my next performance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Duta Nusantara Charity Carnival.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;18th March 2007 (Faliha's 5th b'day)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From 9 onwards. Artists Anuar Zain, Deja Moss and Radhi Khalid will be there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please come. It's for charity. Help the less fortunate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay. Done. I so wanna go out right now. I wanna go out and stay out all night long. I wanna meet new people. I wanna do my nails. Do my hair. Get new clothes and shoes. I wanna get money. I want everything i could possibly think of. Sue me for being greedy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These holidays. I want to practise my violin like there's no tomorrow. I'm gonna sleep real late and wake up really early. Which means i wanna do an experiment to not sleep for one night and see if i can go from there. Don't get me wrong but i'll fix the times. It's an experiment, ya'll. I'm sure ya'll do science. So. Yea. No sleep. For one night. Nada. Zilch. Ahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've discovered this lady. Her name's Regina Spektor. Very Lily Allen like but still i like it. Try downloading her. It's very different. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-5025199433985867855?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/5025199433985867855/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=5025199433985867855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5025199433985867855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/5025199433985867855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/03/dont-matter.html' title='Don&apos;t matter.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PJT4h7XGrHg/Re_3l4qfRaI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Dz5rjkQ4wEE/s72-c/collage1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-7801203142504364447</id><published>2007-03-03T23:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T23:46:15.917+08:00</updated><title type='text'>They told me to.</title><content type='html'>Well, after nearly a month, as some say, here i am, updating. Sorry ya'll. Just had no inspiration to update this thing. I wanted to post up something exciting but seeing how my life is not so, i'm just gonna write crap again, yea? Here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been putting a lot of effort into getting my practise sessions done. Yes, in my violin and piano. My studies aren't doing too good neither are they extremely bad. They're just, as everyone says it, so-so. Yea, anyway. My fingertips are nearly gone because of the pieces i have to play. I felt like crying when i got my 2nd piece. It was so hard when i first started playing. I'm scared i won't make it, since i'm quite known to not make it. Stupid me. Usually, in a music exam, one has to play 3 pieces, scales/appregios, aural and sight-reading. I have yet to start on my scales. I'm just doing them as much as i can. Coz everyone's telling me to do something more than an hour. And how many hours are there in a day? How many hours do i spend at school? Of course, if i was at home than that would be different. I have to study. I have to finish my homework. I have to do house chores. I have to practise. It's just hard when people are telling me that i have no time and have to put in as much effort as possible. I'm tired. I feel like a zombie. Maybe that's because i've been waking up at 5 everyday. That's a different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been going back to dance classes now. Continuing LJ. I still haven't finished choreographing the cheer routine. I'm just having some kind of road block in my head. I can't seem to make a nice routine. I don't know anything anymore. I'm just so tired. Depressing. I know. I'm sorry. I'm just really helpless right now. Besides, look on the bright side. I've been trying my best to NOT do stupid things like i've done before. See? That's an okay thing, right? Bah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exams for the semester have just started. Being a form 4, it's totally different. I feel like an alien in my own world. Imagine that. I don't even know what's what and why's why. It's excruciating to feel that way. It's horrendously excruciating. I'm going mad. Literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a light. A sign. Anything. Or maybe, just help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-7801203142504364447?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/7801203142504364447/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=7801203142504364447&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7801203142504364447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/7801203142504364447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/03/they-told-me-to.html' title='They told me to.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-117127935564784281</id><published>2007-02-12T19:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T19:28:40.380+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weddings.</title><content type='html'>So. I haven't been posting. Sorry to those who actually read this piece of junk. Here's what's been happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1-5 of February, 2 weeks ago. Had to go to Kelantan. My Cousin got married there. Since his Father is a major politician there, they made a huge wedding at their house in KB. So, my family drove there. 8 hours in the bloody car. Had to give 'bunga telur' to 5'000 people. Not fun. Anyway. Played cards every night until midnight or so with Abang Ngah, Kak Suzi, mum, dad, Shaira, Kak Cor and Alysha. It was fun. The girls side, Ema's side was done in Renaissance Hotel, KB. The only best hotel there is in Kelantan. That was okay since we didn't have to do anything. Just the bunga telur giving, the next day, was a big bummer. Went back on Monday. Missed school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, last week. Had to go back home early on Thursday and Friday from school as had to help Opah and practise for our Khatam Quran. Finishing the Holy Book. So, on Saturday, which was the day, went badly for me. The people who were there to listen to us read, thought i had so many mistakes and hell yea, that made me upset, dissapointed, distraught and all of the sad-related words you can think of. Felt so shitty. That night, went to the Sime Darby Convention Centre to test the hall and everything else. Such a tiring day. On Sunday, which was yesterday, was the big day. Had to perform Masquerade. Look pretty and what-not. Went okay i guess. The make-up people were bad but other than that, boleh tahan la. I mean, even if i did get caught in my dress during the dance, it wasn't obvious and everyone said we looked fantastic, so, i'm fine with that. Came back at 2am. Watched Hana Yori Danga 2, episode 5. A jap Drama which i have yet to watch the first season. Woke up today at 10 and couldn't get up. Was too tired. Felt a bit under the weather but i just shook it off. Had to go to the doctor's today for my follow-up on a test i had to do. I won't elaborate on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felt bad for not going to school as this Wednesday is Forensics 07 and my partner, Roslyn, and i should practise. But heard they had an excursion, so, i'm sure they were a bit busy themselves. Will go to school tomorrow and make the best of it. I feel like giving up but i have never actually given up on something. There were certain things but i realized that now and it's no use turning back. So. I shall just go all out and see what happens. It's alright if i didn't get into the semi's or whatever, doesn't matter. Never have and doubt ever will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking that i've summarize all that's happened. Will post up pictures soon. Sport's Day is coming. The venue is unknown but the date is set on the 24th of February. All is welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-117127935564784281?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/117127935564784281/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=117127935564784281&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/117127935564784281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/117127935564784281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/02/weddings.html' title='Weddings.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116991135725899579</id><published>2007-01-27T22:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T23:22:37.273+08:00</updated><title type='text'>15th Birthday.</title><content type='html'>So. I just got older today. 15. Not 16. I'm under-aged remember? No, i didn't take PTS, i went in early. Just in case ya'll forgot. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to KLCC with my polka dotted dress and killer heels. Walked around like nobody's buisness and then went to dinner. Ate a whole lot. My sisters told the restaurant that it was my birthday and they gave me a chocolate fudge sundae and an ice-cream sundae with candles. Everyone in the whole restaurant was singing happy birthday and seriously, i've never felt that good in my entire life. I loved the feeling. Thanks a whole lot! Then, woughley decided nak tengok movie. Checked the times, tak suited so tak jadi. In the end, we shopped 'til we dropped. Or well, at least i did. Bought a whole lot not to mention my presents. Thanks again. I got:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. A LOUIS VUITTON handbag from my siblings. (Love you guys!)&lt;br /&gt;b. CURIOUS PERFUME from Nissa. (Much appreciated, x) )&lt;br /&gt;c. Fabulous earrings from Aini, Roslyn and Ashley. (Thanks a billion!)&lt;br /&gt;d. RM 60 credited into my handphone from Nadhir. (Thankie!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the stuff i bought were just cosmetics and hair accesories. No biggie. It's okay that i bought a truck load, right? Okay, i just sounded greedy. Lol. Sorry. So, we walked and walked and walked. And one by one went home. I'm glad that my day was just fantastic. I'm glad everyone came, except certain few and i'm so happy with my prezzies. People who came were:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. Shaira, duh&lt;br /&gt;b. Hazalea, double duh&lt;br /&gt;c. Nissa&lt;br /&gt;d. Ashley&lt;br /&gt;e. Roslyn&lt;br /&gt;f. Aini&lt;br /&gt;g. Freddie&lt;br /&gt;h. Fauzan&lt;br /&gt;i. Aqif&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqif and Fauzan were last-minute since Israk, Nadhir and Aston couldn't make it. Israk and Aston dropped by then they had to go. To those who wished me, thanks again. Love you guys. So yea. I'm really happy. Everyone made me happy. Thanks so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 344px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 261px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="263" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8019/892/320/524724/Zay%27s%20Bday%20Dinner%2027.01.07.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116991135725899579?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116991135725899579/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116991135725899579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116991135725899579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116991135725899579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/01/15th-birthday.html' title='15th Birthday.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116937807608928358</id><published>2007-01-21T19:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T22:15:25.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends.</title><content type='html'>You never know when a friend could be taken away from you. Doesn't really matter if you didn't know him/her that well, but you already consider him/her as a friend then, yea. It sucks the shit out of me. And it scares the shit out of me too. So, seriously, literally, treasure your friends. Truly, deeply. You never know. You &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just received some bad news about a person i know. Apparently, he passed away. I've not been confirmed of the whole story and i so hope it's not true. He was such a nice person. He's only bloody 20. 20!! We use to speak about so much, and then we sorta drifted apart and then we hardly spoke at all. What happened to him? What really happened is what i want to know so badly. It's scary and very sad. Very sad to know about person who's at such a young age could be taken away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although i'm not crying my eyeballs out, i still feel sad and upset about this whole thing. We use to talk a lot. And now, just to know that he passed away, is..God. What happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In memory of Jason Soo Sing Hing. Graduated at Sri Inai Senior PJ, 2004.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116937807608928358?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116937807608928358/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116937807608928358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116937807608928358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116937807608928358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/01/friends.html' title='Friends.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116840502125190965</id><published>2007-01-10T12:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T12:57:01.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay.</title><content type='html'>So. New school year. New books. New friends. New stationary. More responsibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the second week of school. Loads of confusion. Especially with our classes. Yea. Been having some trouble with lack of teachers. Instead of taking Art, i have to take Geografi. How boring is that? At least i got a B on that. Don't ask me about the others. Anyway. Did i say i'm going to perform on the 19th? Yea. At Shangri-La Hotel. I'll be dancing. It's quite a tough one. Have to put a whole lotta effort in that one. I mean, it's more important than RTM. Haven't received my payment for that one. Suppose to get about RM 337, inclusive of that last-minute dance we made. Then, on the 19th, i should be getting about RM 200. I guess that's good. I mean, how much can a dancer get, right? So. Aside that. I think Econ's is better than Akauns. Literally. Despite that it's the same teacher. Econ's is easier to understand. Whereas Akauns is just boring. Tomorrow's Cross-Country. Next Friday is our Literature class. O. Got 4 new classmates. 3 girls. 1 boy. And no, the guy's not cute. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today. In the computer lab. Having free time. Had an interview with Pn. Mas. Yes it was about the prefectorial board. A bit of drama there. Enough about that, homeworks a truck load. Eventhough i'm not in the sciences, it's still a truck load. Yes. I'm not in the sciences. I'm different compared to my 2 sisters. No, i won't be taking some science course in Uni. No, i'm not as smart as them. Does that answer your questions? Next. On the 17th of January is Prize-giving day. February has Forensics, Sport's Day and a freaking huge wedding. Extremely tiring. Extremely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not in a joyful mood right now. Neither was i yesterday. Yesterday, was a bit better than today. You get me? Guess not. Anyway. Gotta get some sort of list of things to do. Must write everyday. I gotta get things organized. It sucks to hear people saying i don't divide my time well. Okay, i don't. Eventhough i have a whole lotta shit to do, i should but i don't. So screw it. I'll just fixed the times. Yea, planned out plans never work for me. They always change. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116840502125190965?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116840502125190965/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116840502125190965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116840502125190965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116840502125190965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2007/01/okay.html' title='Okay.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116739783397268863</id><published>2006-12-29T20:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T21:10:34.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullshit.</title><content type='html'>Can anyone get any grumpier? Guess so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid. How you ask people to help you with something, then they just ramble about something irrelevant to what i asked. Example, my parents. I'm not saying that they're stupid, i'm just saying that after they ramble, they should still come up with a solution. Since they know i'm not capable of picking something for my ownself, which i should do in the end. I'm sick and tired of how people would just say take this or take that coz it's easier or coz it's so boring. Just stupid answers that i don't want to bother hearing. Yea. And the best is when they tell me something i already know. It's so in me than i don't even need to hear what they're about to say coz i already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need someone who can just tell me which is which. That's all i need. Bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116739783397268863?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116739783397268863/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116739783397268863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116739783397268863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116739783397268863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/12/bullshit.html' title='Bullshit.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116731660972238051</id><published>2006-12-28T22:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T22:36:49.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Move along.</title><content type='html'>So. Yea. I got it. I passed. In the exam world. In mine, i failed. You want details? Forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People i know. They got such nice ones. Yea, if i were them, would've felt like them too. But i'm thinking it's totally better than how i feel. Yea. You can tell i'm crummy. I've always been. This wouldn't change anything. I may look cool. Calm. I just have nothing else to think of. I may, but i'm too stupid to. So, why should i? I'm not as smart as my sisters. I didn't get as good as them. I doubt i will. Confidence never suited me. Shouldn't have put confidence in my self, in the first place. I know i'm gonna let myself down in the end. Why bother right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. What am i gonna do? Form 4. 10 subjects. Yes. Music is one of them, if possible. It's for exposure. I'll need it anyway. Gawd. No wonder i picked music. Something i know i have a chance of passing. Even if i do fail, there's always a way out. With my knowledge, it may not pass. But i'm willing to give everything. And that's just for Music. People may be into Engineering or Medicine. But not me. Not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that okay? Thinking about doing Music. Sometimes i think it's the only thing i've got. I don't have another option coz i'm too damn stupid to work through it. Thinking that's all i've got. That's all. Yes. Again i'm thinking like i'm about to start Music School next week. But two years can go in a bloody flash. And i'm not just saying it coz it's true. I'm saying that there won't be enough time for me. No time for me at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. In conclusion. I've failed. End of 2006. Into 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116731660972238051?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116731660972238051/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116731660972238051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116731660972238051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116731660972238051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/12/move-along.html' title='Move along.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116686343831291855</id><published>2006-12-23T16:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-23T16:43:58.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy.</title><content type='html'>Well, my holidays have been all over the place. Not been in sync with everything. Anyone either. Have no idea what my friends are up to. Only been too busy with performances and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's been happening? Well, nothing interesting, that's for sure. Seriously why am i writing this post, i have no idea. I've decided which grade i'll be doing next year though for violin and piano. I'll be skipping grade 7 Piano and doing grade 8 Violin. Then when i'm form 5, i'll be doing grade 8 Piano and preparing for my diploma which hopefully i'll be doing in Aussie. Lol. It's like 2 years away and here i am talking about it like it's only a few months from now. O well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching loads of Jap dramas from my sister's laptop. It's really good. x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116686343831291855?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116686343831291855/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116686343831291855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116686343831291855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116686343831291855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/12/busy.html' title='Busy.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116582247801557134</id><published>2006-12-11T15:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T15:34:38.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Again.</title><content type='html'>Wishes never come true. People always leave. Dreams are never fulfilled. I go left and you go right. What's the point in everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We try. We fail. We try again. And we fail again. What is there more to say? "I give up!" or "I'll try again." And yet, to those unfortunate people which i'm sure there's loads, fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do we do at a dead end? Do we turn back and find a way out? Or just stay there in sorrowful misery? Of course, the right way is to find a way out. But what if you know there's no hope? No future? No faith left or spirit for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dark tunnel that has no light at the end. Just darkness everywhere. Whichever way you turn, there's darkness. You can never see light ever again. You can't see the beautiful colours, pacific paradise or passionate luxury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If everything would be that simple, would everyone still live happily? What it is or what it was or should it be? I'm wondering what there was left at the beginning again. Could it be so simple?&lt;br /&gt;Now it's hardly simple coz it's just too hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avoid confrontation is one. Maybe we could put this armour down and settle down. Can we get it back to the beginning? No. Life goes on faster than you know. You just gotta keep in rhythm. Again and again we would still run away from those mistakes. Those cruel memories of how we got hurt, of how we got left behind, of how we were just too fucked up to care. Of how people never bothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the solution? We just go forward without looking back. Coz if we do, we'll just break down. Once we break down, to get back up again takes decades. Once we reach that time, that moment, we'll know for sure, nothing's gonna stop you now. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116582247801557134?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116582247801557134/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116582247801557134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116582247801557134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116582247801557134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/12/once-again.html' title='Once Again.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116547256435650338</id><published>2006-12-07T14:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T14:22:44.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holidays.</title><content type='html'>I should say i'm having a blast but i think, to be honest, it's the total opposite. Grr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got loads of things going on which makes me just tired nearly everyday. I don't know if i'll ever be able to just hang out with my friends. I mean, being in the hospital and then having one performance after another is tiring. I've got my orchestra performance next week. I'm not so worried about that as i'm not that important and my conductor doesn't really care two hoots if i'm there or not. This weekend, i have to perform another one at Central Market. It's the same showcase for Linda Jasmine Studios. I so hate that dance right now. Then there's the final one which will be on television on New Year's Eve, so i guess that'll be okay since i'll be dancing with people that, i guess you can say that i'm close to 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O well. I've really nothing to say. It's just that i'm tired. Yet, i still have a decision to decide if i want to do Grade 8 Violin next year and skip Grade 7 Piano, then the year after that i do Grade 8 Piano and prepare for Diploma which i hope i'll be doing in Sydney. That plus, choosing which stream i should go to for my Form 4 and 5 year. How great is that? It's superb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116547256435650338?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116547256435650338/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116547256435650338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116547256435650338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116547256435650338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/12/holidays.html' title='Holidays.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116421075352675067</id><published>2006-11-22T23:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T23:52:33.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Candlelight Christmas.</title><content type='html'>Elo's. I'm doing my part for publicity. To those who are interested, do come. It'd be nice to see a friendly face in the audience aside from my family, which ALL should come. ;p Anyway, if anything, just IM me on Messenger or give me a call. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Candlelight Christmas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Debut concert by the KLPac Sinfonietta, conducted by Brian Tan with La Voce Choir.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dates: 14, 15 &amp; 16 Dec @ 8.30pm&lt;br /&gt;            17 Dec @ 3pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tickets: RM 45, RM 35, RM 25 (students, the disabled &amp; snr. citizen)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family Package: RM 120 &amp; RM 100 (for 2 adults and 2 children with student ids)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Venue: Pentas 1, The Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre&lt;br /&gt;             Sentul Park, Jalan Strachan (Off Jln. Ipoh) 51100 KL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Box Office: 03-4047 9000 (KLPac)&lt;br /&gt;                    03-2094 9400 (The Actors Studie @BSC)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Websiter: &lt;a href="http://www.klpac.com"&gt;http://www.klpac.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's that. I'm effin tired because of the rehearsal we had just now. We had to play this one particular song over and over and over again. We did have around a minute and a half of break-time but other than that, we really were drilled lower than the floor. We're getting better, mind you. So, hopefully by the confirmed dates, we'll be as good as anybody. ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was offered a part to dance at One Utama. 3 teenagers were suppose to dance under choreography by Auntie Farah herself. But she's not certain if she wants to go forward with that coz she thinks the payment isn't good enough. Lol. Anyway, i was offered anyway. My holidays are really piling up. If Linda Jasmine has nothing for me to do, then good la. I still haven't recovered from the pain i got from Linda Jasmine's dance. Oooh boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116421075352675067?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116421075352675067/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116421075352675067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116421075352675067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116421075352675067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/11/candlelight-christmas.html' title='Candlelight Christmas.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116394082360306181</id><published>2006-11-19T20:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T21:27:11.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holidays.</title><content type='html'>Tired, stressed out and aching all over the body. Just finished orchestra practise. I'm so tired. My performance was yesterday and that's what got me aching. Yay me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm watching tv while chatting with my sister in a very long time. I've just finished another performance which was held in Great Eastern mall. Well, i've really nothing to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in an orchestra in KLPAC. We just had our photo-session today and a gruesome practise. It's not any different coz every practise is gruesome and tiring. Our concert's in 3 weeks time. Not really sure of the dates but i'll know soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My legs and fingers are aching. So, i'm gonna just sit back and relax for a while. Until i start my next practise, that is. I plan to practise 'til dawn. Wouldn't that be cool yet stupid in a way? I mean, who would do such a thing? But if you're as sucky as i am, then i think you would at least do half of what i would actually do. So, if i make any sense, then i guess i'll stop here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116394082360306181?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116394082360306181/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116394082360306181&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116394082360306181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116394082360306181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/11/holidays.html' title='Holidays.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152418.post-116351791567404857</id><published>2006-11-14T23:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T20:53:27.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chemicals React.</title><content type='html'>You make me feel out of my element&lt;br /&gt;Like I'm walkin' on broken glass&lt;br /&gt;Like my worlds spinnin' in slow motion&lt;br /&gt;And you're movin' too fast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Were you right, was I wrong&lt;br /&gt;Were you weak, was I strong, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Both of us broken&lt;br /&gt;Caught in a moment,&lt;br /&gt;We lived and we loved&lt;br /&gt;And we hurt and we jumped, yeah&lt;br /&gt;But the planets all aligned,&lt;br /&gt;When you looked into my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And just like that&lt;br /&gt;The chemicals react,&lt;br /&gt;The chemicals react.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me feel out of my element,&lt;br /&gt;Like I'm drifting out to the sea&lt;br /&gt;Like the tides pullin' me in deeper,&lt;br /&gt;Makin' it harder to breathe&lt;br /&gt;We cannot deny, how we feel inside&lt;br /&gt;We cannot deny....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Were you right, was I wrong&lt;br /&gt;Were you weak, was I strong, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Both of us broken&lt;br /&gt;Caught in a moment,&lt;br /&gt;We lived and we loved&lt;br /&gt;And we hurt and we jumped, yeah&lt;br /&gt;But the planets all aligned,&lt;br /&gt;When you looked into my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And just like that,&lt;br /&gt;The chemicals react,&lt;br /&gt;The chemicals react.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaleidoscope of colors&lt;br /&gt;Turning hopes on fire, sun is burning&lt;br /&gt;Shining down on both of us&lt;br /&gt;Don't let us lost it (don't let us lose it...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Were you right, was I wrong&lt;br /&gt;Were you weak, was I strong, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Both of us broken,&lt;br /&gt;Caught in a moment&lt;br /&gt;We lived and we loved,&lt;br /&gt;And we hurt and we jumped, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lived,&lt;br /&gt;We loved,&lt;br /&gt;We hurt,&lt;br /&gt;We jumped,&lt;br /&gt;We're right,&lt;br /&gt;We're wrong,&lt;br /&gt;We're weak,&lt;br /&gt;We're strong,&lt;br /&gt;We lived to love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the planets all aligned,&lt;br /&gt;When you looked into my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And just like that,&lt;br /&gt;Watch the chemicals react..&lt;br /&gt;And just like that&lt;br /&gt;The chemicals react,&lt;br /&gt;(The chemicals react)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+Zayaana Shazlene+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11152418-116351791567404857?l=27192.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/feeds/116351791567404857/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11152418&amp;postID=116351791567404857&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116351791567404857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11152418/posts/default/116351791567404857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://27192.blogspot.com/2006/11/chemicals-react.html' title='Chemicals React.'/><author><name>La _Petite_Danseuse</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://www.lymm.net/images/violin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
