<?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-3649712701782698072</id><updated>2012-02-18T01:55:12.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Complex Minds.</title><subtitle type='html'>A smile can get you anywhere - fast :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>259</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1289494792234648609</id><published>2012-02-18T01:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-18T01:55:12.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatever.</title><content type='html'>I've lost interest in blogging over the past few months. I can't exactly be sure why though, but I'm more into writing in my journal where things are private. And maybe it's also the fact that I've come to think that blogging is for more outgoing people who love telling others about what they've been up to &amp; such. I know blogging has a variety of purposes but my mind's stuck on that particular mindset which makes this blog more and more irrelevant, for the time being. I have a feeling I'll write more in the future. Just not now. Because now I'm too busy with myself. It doesn't necessarily mean that I am busy, but I guess I really like time to myself these days. And when I say time to myself, I mean doing whatever I want to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1289494792234648609?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1289494792234648609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1289494792234648609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1289494792234648609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1289494792234648609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2012/02/whatever.html' title='Whatever.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7629127558883611987</id><published>2012-02-03T01:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T01:46:04.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Contentment &amp; Satisfaction</title><content type='html'>I feel like locking myself in my room, shutting out the outside world and immersing myself into reading and playing guitar. I feel like being alone. Just writing on my journal, creating new masterpieces only for self-satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can say that the urge to be a loner occurs from time to time.I'm just worried the need for alone time will become more frequent and that it will be casting a shadow onto learning new lessons which may only come from being outside, being involved, and being out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's February. Already February. I had a conversation with Jenny not too long ago and I told her of the things I've been up to. It doesn't surprise me anymore that I tend to tell her every detail of everything. She asked why I haven't been out that much, which for some reason offended me the tiniest bit possible for I think I've been quite content with my reading and staying home. Other than that, I've been tutoring juniors and hanging out with friends from time to time, and I've signed up for driving lessons, which to me is already a bit much to fit into my schedule. Which is a bit funny because I think I'm actually schedule-less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't go out much and experience the whole damn freaking world because I guess I have some setbacks - no licence, no car, not much money, all my friends are working. I guess I could arrange something someday, maybe I'd ask the ones who are not working to join me in a new experience. I've been meaning to volunteer somewhere but I haven't picked out a place and I'm trying to find that one thing that could make my time worthwhile. Maybe more than one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprised that I enjoy tutoring. Some need help with homework and such and I think I've been more enthusiastic learning the SPM syllabus now than before. Maybe it's because now I learn or teach for fun and don't have to be pressured by the idea of exams. It is a bit freeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I need more things to do, get out more. I hate to say it but Jenny always seems to be right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7629127558883611987?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7629127558883611987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7629127558883611987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7629127558883611987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7629127558883611987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2012/02/contentment-satisfaction.html' title='Contentment &amp; Satisfaction'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1134605694170334520</id><published>2012-01-13T00:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T00:11:38.017+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tweets.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 27px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;This life seems still &amp;amp; unmoving. Neither going forward nor backwards. Just completely still.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 27px;"&gt;There are some people that I miss everyday. It sucks. But I can't complain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 27px;"&gt;I could feel the distance already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 19px;"&gt;Being jobless &amp;amp; stuck at home makes me feel like I'm quarantined.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 19px;"&gt;Staring outside the window just quietly observing the real world without really being a part of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1134605694170334520?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1134605694170334520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1134605694170334520&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1134605694170334520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1134605694170334520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2012/01/tweets.html' title='Tweets.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8720416845002405486</id><published>2012-01-05T23:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T23:58:19.304+08:00</updated><title type='text'>18.</title><content type='html'>I turn eighteen today. Alhamdulillah. Especially with the tons of texts, tweets &amp;amp; wall posts coming in at one time. And a lot of people remembered my birthday without having to refer to Facebook. Haha, cool! I got the most wishes this year which was pretty chaotic &amp;amp; lovely at the same time. I laughed when Mely texted me 'HB', serious kelakar! And I'm glad Tia liked her birthday videos, hers was yesterday. Dia suka gila. I've yet to reply some texts &amp;amp; wall posts I haven't gotten the chance to. Hana &amp;amp; Izni recorded a birthday song for me, my girls are so sweet! I'm listening to it right now :) Thank you family, friends and everyone&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px;"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8720416845002405486?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8720416845002405486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8720416845002405486&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8720416845002405486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8720416845002405486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2012/01/18.html' title='18.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1716076632559031904</id><published>2011-12-19T02:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T02:39:03.164+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To the ungrateful side of ourselves,</title><content type='html'>There are times when we become blinded by the worldly things. So concentrated on the things we don't have rather than the things we do. I could say that this happens most of the time. Just be thankful that during the other times, we are reminded that we actually have more than enough. How dare we ask for more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If we were the children of poverty, the victims of natural disasters or those who have suffered any form of lost, we would have no time to think about getting those new pair of expensive shoes, the latest technology hype or basically anything that we don't truly need. I think it's perfectly fine for those who have the extra cash to indulge themselves once in a while, but it's not fine when it occurs too frequently. Worse, when they become ignorant to those who are suffering &amp;amp; could really need financial aid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anything I write down is mostly done to remind myself. I hope so much that I would never forget that I do play a role in providing aid, of any kind, to the community. Kinda sounds blah, don't you think? This is what you get when you can't sleep. You think too much during the tossing &amp;amp; turning. Well, I guess I envision myself being a certain way. It would feel amazing to be who I've always wanted to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1716076632559031904?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1716076632559031904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1716076632559031904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1716076632559031904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1716076632559031904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/12/to-ungrateful-side-of-ourselves.html' title='To the ungrateful side of ourselves,'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6355568199198114989</id><published>2011-12-07T13:15:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T23:34:35.335+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life with no order</title><content type='html'>I really cannot imagine myself working, having a job somewhere at a fast food joint or retail store. It just didn't hit me as something I wanted to do - working after my SPM. I guess I did consider it before but now, since I changed my plans on what I wanted to do, I don't think I could do those things if I had a job. I have my own plans but for the meantime, I'm just gonna see how life is without a schedule, without knowing what exactly I'm getting myself into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gotta clean up my room, my old school books, get my driver's licence, read books, start writing again, learn some new songs on guitar &amp;amp; piano, volunteer somewhere, maybe pick up a new language. I dunno. I don't wanna have to fit in a job in there. I haven't played the piano in a long, long time. But I played with Hana when she came over last Monday. Baru sedar rupanya rindu main. Wanna know how a "tak jadi" cover sounds like? Here's me singing &amp;amp; Hana playing the piano to Jar of Hearts. Tak jadi because Hana played the wrong chord plus I blew the last note, I usually sing a bit lower than this, so I guess it's both our faults. You'll hear us laughing at the end. Enjoy :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="157" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CKrXbB_FEyc" width="250"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6355568199198114989?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6355568199198114989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6355568199198114989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6355568199198114989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6355568199198114989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/12/life-with-no-order.html' title='Life with no order'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/CKrXbB_FEyc/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4129571219750607261</id><published>2011-12-02T00:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T12:27:40.382+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Charlie &amp; Lily.</title><content type='html'>I remember sitting on the sofa across from her. No make-up, a pair of sweatpants, and her hair in a messy bun - a typical Sunday morning. She was reading the newspaper. She squinted her eyes every now and then which made me the tiniest bit amused. I chuckled briefly. Her eyes, from being fixated on the newspaper, quickly found their way to mine. "What are you laughing about?" she said with one lifted eyebrow. "Oh, nothing," I said while grinning from ear to ear. She continued immersing her thoughts into the words she read as though I had not said a thing. Then a sudden ray of light from outside the window hit her face and unveiled her utmost beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became silent for awhile, observing the outlines of her face, her pointy nose, her soft pouted thin lips, her combed-like eyebrows and lastly my favourite part - her glass-like brown eyes. The most breathtaking pair of eyes I have ever seen. The eyes of whom I love most. I am one lucky man. "Hey," I said in a loving tone. "Yes, sweetie?", she asked. Isn't it lovely being someone's 'sweetie'? She did not make a move nor blink as she waited for me to say something. "You're beautiful, you know that?" Her cheeks turned pale pink. She tried to fight back a smile but she couldn't. Even though she could, I knew she would be blushing on the inside - if that is even possible. "Is this because your birthday is coming soon?", she asked while playfully touching her hair. She always does that when she feels embarrassed. "No, no. I just... love you. No such ulterior motives," I said with a smile. She giggled and said, "I love you, too, dear."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me, sir." I suddenly heard the hoarse voice of a man. "Sir?" Now who could that be? "I'm sorry to wake you up, sir, but we're almost arriving. You need to sort out your things. I'll be glad to help you," the man said. I finally opened my eyes and found myself looking at the ceiling. 'Ah, I fell asleep on the train again,' I thought to myself. I tried to clear my throat. "It's okay. You don't need to," I mumbled. "Oh non-sense! It's my duty, sir," he muttered. "Well, alright then, thank you. Thank you very much," I said. He began pulling my luggage out of the cabin. "You're going for a holiday trip, sir?", he asked while placing my bags on the seat beside me one by one. "Not really. I'm going to visit my wife's grave." My voice cracked at the word 'grave'. "I'm so terribly sorry, sir," he said, now with a sympathetic voice. I quickly recovered and continued, "You don't have to call me sir. Just call me Charlie." He chuckled and said, "Very well then, &lt;i&gt;Charlie&lt;/i&gt;," he said - emphasizing my name. At least that made me laugh - something I have not done in quite a while. I continued, "What should I call you then? It's not fair for you to know my name while I don't know yours." "Call me Jonathan," he said as he stretched his arm out to give me a handshake. I was taken by surprise. I shook his hand with my jaw slightly dropped. Jonathan was the name my wife, Lily, and I wanted to name our son if we came to have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jonathan then sat on the seat opposite of mine as though I had just invited him for tea. I honestly don't think that any part of my face screamed 'Come sit and have a chat with me!' but Jonathan sure seemed comfortable enough to do so. There was something appealing about him, I couldn't quite put my finger on it but he was so enthusiastic about things. He had a very youthful face despite his manly voice. My very own sense of youthfulness had seemingly been sucked away after the death of my beautiful Lily. Jonathan seemed charming like one of those guys that are endlessly chased by girls. I suddenly had the urge to say something. I slowly opened my mouth then left it hanging as I was still indecisive. Then impulsively I asked, "Would you like come with me to visit my wife's grave?" My eyes widened in horror and a few moments of silence crept in. He put on a peculiar face while tilting his head to the side. "What time is it now?", he asked. I took a glance at my wrist watch and said, "A quarter to five." He smiled a crooked smile and said, "Sure. I get off work at 5."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There we were - in front of Lily's grave. I felt a chill from the cold breeze while Jonathan read the engraving aloud, "Here lies Lily Aldrin. Loving wife &amp;amp; brave humanitarian." "The bravest, kindest woman I've ever known," I said, fighting back tears. "What was she like, sir?", Jonathan asked with his hands behind his back and his eyes shimmering. I began my story, "Well, the way she died says it all. I still remember that day so vividly. Lily and I were volunteering in Japan to help the earthquake victims there. We were helping to find lost or trapped people. Near one of the affected houses, we heard a baby boy's cry. The house was about to collapse but Lily started tearing up and insisted we tried to save the baby. The rescue team kept saying it wasn't safe enough. When we weren't looking, she crawled inside the hole where she heard the cry and got a hold of the baby. She screamed for the rescue team and we managed to save the baby. By the time Lily gave the baby to the rescue team, she was still inside the house. And well...you know the rest of the story." "The house collapsed," Jonathan said without hesitation. "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home after an evening of talking about Lily to Jonathan. I was not one to open up to people, only Lily was the one I told anything and everything to, but Jonathan was an exception today. I couldn't deny that it had something to do with his name being Jonathan. I felt like a piece of Lily was there with me. I told Jonathan I would ask him to come with me if I wanted to visit my wife's grave again. How I miss her so dearly. With her, I felt complete. But now, it seems like I have to live through life without her. Sometimes when the lights are off and I am curled up in my bed staring into pure darkness, I whisper to myself, 'I'm all alone. I'm all alone.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(In case you're wondering, this is more or less the essay I wrote for SPM)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4129571219750607261?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4129571219750607261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4129571219750607261&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4129571219750607261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4129571219750607261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/12/charlie-lily.html' title='Charlie &amp; Lily.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8164181108931581075</id><published>2011-10-01T21:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T21:53:38.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is.</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Afa4WdPZsUk/TocMNr1V7bI/AAAAAAAAAag/ZoD22IeTF6U/s1600/33726_1202377915558_1711899415_391044_7720612_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Afa4WdPZsUk/TocMNr1V7bI/AAAAAAAAAag/ZoD22IeTF6U/s1600/33726_1202377915558_1711899415_391044_7720612_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mely &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B6koksUa3wg/TocMOEMePUI/AAAAAAAAAak/2bULr4MxwjA/s1600/262687_131591113590167_100002178383716_232662_5299966_n+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B6koksUa3wg/TocMOEMePUI/AAAAAAAAAak/2bULr4MxwjA/s320/262687_131591113590167_100002178383716_232662_5299966_n+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tia &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9k1zRYIq32k/TocUmf7M_mI/AAAAAAAAAao/ypn0P6re9PE/s1600/242610_218396018184316_100000417587227_752044_943549_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9k1zRYIq32k/TocUmf7M_mI/AAAAAAAAAao/ypn0P6re9PE/s320/242610_218396018184316_100000417587227_752044_943549_o.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mira &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oU4e_ipBjr8/TocZAUdvt_I/AAAAAAAAAas/RlmRrtUPIRk/s1600/AZj2AxQCQAEiJ4w.jpg-large" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oU4e_ipBjr8/TocZAUdvt_I/AAAAAAAAAas/RlmRrtUPIRk/s320/AZj2AxQCQAEiJ4w.jpg-large" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hana &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7UdD0TwKAM8/TocZv7woRMI/AAAAAAAAAaw/G_q396BHMtc/s1600/268978_1449726339114_1711899415_725549_6748407_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7UdD0TwKAM8/TocZv7woRMI/AAAAAAAAAaw/G_q396BHMtc/s320/268978_1449726339114_1711899415_725549_6748407_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Izni &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y1obrOuPeTY/TocaTq4AMjI/AAAAAAAAAa0/IA8_szapDas/s1600/368716_1369209018_1990576119_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y1obrOuPeTY/TocaTq4AMjI/AAAAAAAAAa0/IA8_szapDas/s320/368716_1369209018_1990576119_n.jpg" width="241" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ain &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ABKFeE5KYTU/TocMNFBYprI/AAAAAAAAAac/1FIi72cO64M/s1600/288412_201911066532460_100001407050308_560371_7604847_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ABKFeE5KYTU/TocMNFBYprI/AAAAAAAAAac/1FIi72cO64M/s320/288412_201911066532460_100001407050308_560371_7604847_o.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fatin &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;This is what I have right here, right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8164181108931581075?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8164181108931581075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8164181108931581075&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8164181108931581075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8164181108931581075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-is.html' title='This is.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Afa4WdPZsUk/TocMNr1V7bI/AAAAAAAAAag/ZoD22IeTF6U/s72-c/33726_1202377915558_1711899415_391044_7720612_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-157594850094597364</id><published>2011-09-30T23:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T23:28:53.524+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One.</title><content type='html'>Guess what? Tomorrow is the 1st of October, which means, November is coming soon. Very soon. One month till school ends. One month till SPM. Just ONE. I feel heartbroken &amp;amp; nervous due to this one fact.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-157594850094597364?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/157594850094597364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=157594850094597364&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/157594850094597364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/157594850094597364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/09/one.html' title='One.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8403999335363800776</id><published>2011-09-15T19:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T19:45:28.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't draw, so I sing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C1g8f31zMiA/TnHeRmQa6ZI/AAAAAAAAAaU/JAFtkedgrpk/s1600/CD1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C1g8f31zMiA/TnHeRmQa6ZI/AAAAAAAAAaU/JAFtkedgrpk/s320/CD1.jpg" width="318" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Hey everyone, this is Bo and I love his album. Izni lent it to me so I played it non-stop during balik kampung. Izni minat gila Bo, I pulak macam tak ada perasaan je tapi suara dia sedap! Lagu dia sedap! I like 'Lagu', 'Ten Again', &amp;nbsp;'I Like Red' and 'Gadis'. I really really like this kind of music. I always try to find local acts I like, and Bedroom Sanctuary is one of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jBGjzGmtLAU/TnHjDJR39qI/AAAAAAAAAaY/it3aRSV4mzo/s1600/IMG_0957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jBGjzGmtLAU/TnHjDJR39qI/AAAAAAAAAaY/it3aRSV4mzo/s320/IMG_0957.JPG" width="236" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;By the way, Nada drew a picture of me. I love her. You know what, she's sort of an "ambidextrous" which means she can write with both hands. She draws with her left, and writes with her right. I asked her, "Kalau awak nak tumbuk orang awak guna tangan mana?". She answered, "Tangan kanan." Dalam bas balik dari Genting hari tu, kitorang nyanyi lagu Colbie Caillat sama-sama pasang earphone iPod saya. Sweet kan kami? Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Okay bye. By the way, I can't draw, so I sing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8403999335363800776?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8403999335363800776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8403999335363800776&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8403999335363800776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8403999335363800776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-cant-draw-so-i-sing.html' title='I can&apos;t draw, so I sing.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C1g8f31zMiA/TnHeRmQa6ZI/AAAAAAAAAaU/JAFtkedgrpk/s72-c/CD1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4313826738403524006</id><published>2011-09-12T01:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T01:06:53.552+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chosen.</title><content type='html'>I just had my trip to Genting for a seminar. It's for PMR and SPM students. For the next few months, I believe I won't stop blabbering about SPM. It will appear in almost every sentence I make. SPM! See? Didn't believe me did you?&amp;nbsp;It was fun, really. I don't really wanna describe every funny incident that happened there, and believe me, there were so many of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just that I have come to realize that we were chosen. That I was chosen. That everyone was putting hopes on us. That everyone was putting hopes on me. It is definitely nerve-wrecking and you feel so pressured by the idea that everyone is expecting nothing but excellence from you. But if you look at it on a brighter note, you were chosen, which means you are completely capable. Why else would people want to see you succeed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what, I &lt;i&gt;am &lt;/i&gt;nervous. I'm nervous to the core. I guess it's because of the words I've been hearing come out of my teachers' mouths. My English teachers said, "You have to score, you're one of our hopeful students." And my Biology teacher said, "Cuba dapatkan markah lebih 90" because she wants me to get an A+. Sometimes, I would just like to roll on the floor and laugh due to the &lt;i&gt;almost&lt;/i&gt; nonsensical expectations that have been put on me. Plus, I feel like I &lt;b&gt;have &lt;/b&gt;to get A+ for Maths and Chemistry because my marks have been good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It almost feels like there is no room for failure. So, I guess what I'm saying is that yes, I would very much like to get straight-A's. I takut nak cakap ini, but my target for SPM is straight-A's with a minimum of four A+'s. My teachers have faith in me. That's already more than enough. But takpelah target tinggi, dapat yang dekat-dekat pun dah hebat kan! I've never gotten an A for Physics. That's my subject to work on. We'll see what happens, shall we?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4313826738403524006?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4313826738403524006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4313826738403524006&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4313826738403524006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4313826738403524006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/09/chosen.html' title='Chosen.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8577519676606498648</id><published>2011-09-06T23:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T23:26:18.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doubtful.</title><content type='html'>I always question the motives behind a person's actions. I always wonder if a person does something out of sincerity, guilt or other reasons. I always think people do certain things just to spare other people's feelings. Or &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; feelings, to be frank.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The truth is, I prefer the truth. The truth is, I sometimes doubt that people are telling me the truth. I've always had that problem ever since I went through tremendous crap with some people throughout my teen years. I despise insincerity so much it makes me sick. Even more, I despite the pretentiousness of a friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I can be pretentious as well. I try to avoid that as much as possible because I don't want people to be fake with me but sometimes, I do so to avoid arguments and I think I hate arguments even more. I'm not sure what point I'm trying to make here but I've been getting so much better. Maybe it's because I've cut out people I cannot tolerate. It's not that I cannot tolerate with certain attitudes, but I choose not to. I choose not to be unhappy.&amp;nbsp;Happiness is a choice.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do have doubts about certain people but I always talk to those who I have the least bit of trust about their intentions. Who I think their friendships are sincere. People should be thankful if I don't ask if they are well because I don't like to pretend like I care. If I do, I will show it. If I don't, I won't. At least I'm not being insincere, that's all I hope for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lately, due to all the stress, I've been getting a lot of support. People are rooting for me even though I don't want to root for myself. I don't ask for it but I am truly grateful because I think this is what I need - my own spectators, if I may say. My backbone. If they believe I can do so much more, then I should believe so too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8577519676606498648?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8577519676606498648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8577519676606498648&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8577519676606498648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8577519676606498648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/09/doubtful.html' title='Doubtful.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4942722099726819537</id><published>2011-08-24T22:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T23:01:10.815+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Future.</title><content type='html'>Currently listening to Paramore songs while typing this. It feels good! Sometimes, I take a break from my favourite albums so that when I hear them back, they still sound fresh. And they always do. Paramore is younger than most other artists I listen to so they express what youths are going through so well. I just realized that I listen to a lot of adult contemporary. I feel so old now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of getting old, almost everyday now I hear people talk about the future &amp;amp; us SPM students' futures especially. Teachers keep asking what we want to do in the future &amp;amp; what we want to achieve and all. The other day, Puan Adura asked me what course I wanted to take after SPM. And I told her I'd take Nutrition &amp;amp; Dietetics but then I added two other things to the list. She asked me how I was coping since SPM trial is so near. Then I realized I didn't even ask her how she is. I feel guilty, it seems so selfish. It was all about me. Ugh, I always try not to talk too much about myself during a conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I don't feel like I'll be a dietitian forever nor I think it's such a cool job. I don't know yet though. I'm just so interested in stuff like this - about food, nutrition, things that happen in the body, the hows and whys and what not. I read the semester contents for the Nutrition &amp;amp; Dietetics course offered by IMU and it makes me absolutely eager to learn. I tell my friends &amp;amp; they don't really understand why I'm completely fascinated by things like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I'm sure I want to do in the future is to volunteer &amp;amp; help people, basically. I know it would be so satisfying to do so. I always read on the newspaper about people needing donations or support of any kind. And sometimes the pictures are so heartbreaking. I want to be able to help. I think this has become a new passion of mine though I've never really been involved in volunteering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's just so many things I want to do. Owning a restaurant, writing and other stuff. I'm afraid I don't get to do them all, but we'll see. Maybe it does sound ridiculous that I wish I can do everything at one time but I'm sure whatever happens is for the best. This is just the career portion of my future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4942722099726819537?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4942722099726819537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4942722099726819537&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4942722099726819537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4942722099726819537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/08/future.html' title='Future.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8924289024222735571</id><published>2011-08-14T00:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T13:03:34.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Siti Nur Baby.</title><content type='html'>I usually give titles to my posts after I finished writing more than I give them a title first. But for this one, it's clear that I want to give it the title 'Siti Nur Baby'. Nak bagitahu sikit ni, memang kelakar lah benda ni. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just got back from Tia's for buka puasa with friends. Tia has this cat in a cage, dia suruh tengok, 'Eh kau dah tengok kucing aku? Nama dia Siti Nur Baby.' It was this cute black &amp;amp; white cat. Masa tu yang dah sampai - aku, Ain, Sufi, Farah, Maryam, Jiha, Qila, Fiera &amp;amp; Aisya. And then, Nisha &amp;amp; Ezra baru balik daripada beli ayam golek dengan Jazli.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Masa tu dekat luar and semua orang tengah sibuk-sibuk nak masuk, excited nak bukak puasa. Adik Tia tengah main dengan kucing tu. Nisha pun tanya soalan dekat Ain, dia tanya, 'Nama dia siapa?' and she was referring to Tia's brother. Ain pun jawab, 'Siti Nur Baby.' Nisha kata, 'Eh yeke? Serius?' Ain pun kata, 'Iye, betul' sebab Ain ingat Nisha tanya nama kucing tu. Nisha pun entah kenapa percaya yang adik Tia tu Siti Nur Baby. Ha kelakar tak? Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Paling kelakarnya bila Nisha terus buat muka semangat gila, lambai dekat adik Tia &amp;amp; kata, "Hai, Siti Nur Baby!" Kalau korang tengok muka dia, ya Allah! Memang benar dia ingat nama budak tu Siti Nur Baby. Dia pun masuklah rumah Tia. Aku pun pandang Ain and masing-masing buat muka pelik &amp;amp; tahan gelak. Aku cakap dekat Ain sambil tersengih, "Wei dia ingat adik Tia ke Siti Nur Baby tu?" Ain kata, "A'ah, aku rasalah." Terus gelak.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aku tak tahu kenapa tapi aku rasa macam kelakar sangat. Dahlah adik Tia tu lelaki kan, ini kan nama dia SITI NUR BABY? HAHA! Cuba bayangkan macam mana kalau ada orang betul-betul nama macam tu? Ya Allah, kelakarnya! Kalau aku jadi Nisha, aku tak percaya pun apa Ain kata. After that, aku nak cuba control gelak aku, so aku tutup muka &amp;amp; menangis sebab kelakar sangat. I did that for like 10 minutes, probably.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mula-mula kitorang tak cerita sebab still macam terkejut dengan situasi tadi, haha! Lama-lama cerita dekat semua orang, semua orang gelak gila-gila ah. Aku kesian kat Nisha, tapi &amp;nbsp;nak buat macam mana? Kelakar GILA! Aku bahan dia berapa kali entah! This is probably one of the funniest things that has happened this year X)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8924289024222735571?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8924289024222735571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8924289024222735571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8924289024222735571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8924289024222735571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/08/siti-nur-baby.html' title='Siti Nur Baby.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7261290099464732513</id><published>2011-08-05T00:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T20:30:05.533+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tolerate.</title><content type='html'>I no longer want to tolerate with friends who:&lt;br /&gt;1. Talk behind my back.&lt;br /&gt;2. Start acting like they know me only when they need help.&lt;br /&gt;3. Are afraid of dealing with their problems.&lt;br /&gt;4. Do not appreciate me.&lt;br /&gt;5. Think negatively of everyone, even their own flesh &amp;amp; blood.&lt;br /&gt;6. Will judge my other friends without knowing them.&lt;br /&gt;7. Do not know how to be grateful of anything.&lt;br /&gt;8. Enjoy manipulating people.&lt;br /&gt;9. Easily get jealous, especially when they are in denial of this.&lt;br /&gt;10. Are selfish / Do not know how to cooperate.&lt;br /&gt;11. Do not care that other people have problems.&lt;br /&gt;12. Think they are the only ones who are conflicted.&lt;br /&gt;13. Think they are right pretty much all the time.&lt;br /&gt;14. Attract attention by causing problems. Especially when they make small problems seem like giant ones.&lt;br /&gt;15. Egoistic / Will never be the first to apologize though they've wronged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry but I need to make this clear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7261290099464732513?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7261290099464732513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7261290099464732513&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7261290099464732513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7261290099464732513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/08/tolerate.html' title='Tolerate.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4201438773879003391</id><published>2011-08-02T15:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T15:32:20.782+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Macam.</title><content type='html'>It was experiment day at the Chemistry lab early in the morning. Sekarang ni tangan bercorak-corak warna coklat, tak boleh nak hilangkan. Mira, Fatin, Mely &amp;amp; I ada banyak tompok dekat tangan. I presume it is copper from the experiment. Mira punya paling teruk, I think. Tia ada satu titik je dekat tangan dia. Kitorang punya dahsyat. Tia kata tak boleh hilang until another 2 or 3 weeks. Paling pelik, benda ni bau dia macam ubi kentang. Macam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya berkesempatan berborak dengan Hana &amp;amp; Izni tadi. Hana pakai something dekat name tag dia. Saya tegur dia pasal benda tu. Dia kata, "Comel kan? Semua orang kata comel. Kau orang yang ke berapa entah," sambil keningnya terangkat dan bibirnya tersenyum. Saya reply, "Aku tak cakap pun comel. Aku tegur je." Kesian dia, okaylah comel. Haha. Saya jarang dapat berborak dengan dia sekarang. Dia lagi hebat dari artist, kalau booking pun tak tentu dapat you know. Sebenarnya, saya macam amat rindu berborak dengan dia. Macam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dengan Izni pula, saya kerap jumpa. Semalam saya message dia, dalam reply dia ada smiley do. Saya terkejut sebab saya ingat dia macam Mely. Maksudnya, antara orang yang tak pernah guna smiley. Ye, aku perasan jugak benda macam tu. Saya reply kata saya terkejut tengok dia tulis smiley, dia reply 'Hahah, nah ni lg satu smiley ;-)'. Saya ketawa sorang-sorang dalam bilik macam tak siuman. Macam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiba-tiba aku teringat Tia pernah kata, "Kau ni banyak masa kan nak pikir benda yang remeh macam tu." Mana yang rapat dengan saya semuanya cakap macam tu. Nak buat macam mana kan, sometimes the smallest things are important to me :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4201438773879003391?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4201438773879003391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4201438773879003391&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4201438773879003391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4201438773879003391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/08/macam.html' title='Macam.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-300475145006859182</id><published>2011-07-30T23:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T23:58:48.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flashbacks.</title><content type='html'>Aku ingat lagi dulu after PMR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mely, Tia, Yasmin &amp;amp; I lunch dekat Thaqwa almost everyday selepas sekolah. After that, pergi lepak dekat rumah Mely. Memang tak ada kerja langsung. Dok berguling-guling macam pemain bola sepak ada lah. Kalau Mely busy, kitorang bertiga duduk rumah aku.&amp;nbsp;Aktiviti ni terbawa-bawa sampai awal Form 4 before Mely pindah teknik Sepang and Yasmin pindah ke Bangi.&amp;nbsp;After diorang pindah, aku dengan Tia tak lepak dekat Thaqwa dah. Nak pergi dua orang je? Penat lah kalau setiap hari macam tu, dahlah duduk sebelah kan dalam kelas. Takde tujuan langsung.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aku tiba-tiba terasa nak cakap pasal ni sebab ternampak Yasmin asyik like video Adele dekat YouTube. One of the main reasons why we always hung out together is because we all have a lot in common. Menyibuk je Yasmin nak pergi gilakan Adele. Aku pun tengah minat gila Adele ni, haih. Mely ada post status pasal dia suka John Mayer, Danny O'Donoghue and Bobby Flay. Ini lagi satu. Aku dengan Mely selalu sama taste lelaki, haha. That's why I call Mely my madu. John Mayer &amp;amp; Danny O'Donoghue can sing while Bobby Flay can cook :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've got similar music tastes and all. Aku rasa kalau karaoke dengan diorang mesti seronok sebab nak lagu yang sama. Aku tengah mencari orang yang minat Gossip Girl, aku nak cakap pasal Chace Crawford dengan dia puas-puas. Lama tak dengar suara Chuck Bass. Tunggu lah nanti aku tengok Gossip Girl, rindu :/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm listening to John Mayer songs on shuffle on my iPod. So god damn good. I'm having flashbacks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-300475145006859182?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/300475145006859182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=300475145006859182&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/300475145006859182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/300475145006859182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/07/common.html' title='Flashbacks.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1726446168961669465</id><published>2011-07-26T23:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T23:46:21.929+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Judges.</title><content type='html'>I'm disappointed with people and their mindsets these days. They let their negativity &amp;amp; emotions overpower rationality. They let their negative assumptions of people they don't know become their reasons to judge them. I've been seeing this happen a lot this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I don't understand the most is the fact that people can have bad assumptions about my friend who I think is one of the nicest girls I've ever known. Did I mention she is one of the nicest girls I've ever known? Yes, she is very nice, yet people who don't know her judge by what they see. Only by what they see. What kind of a messed up world do we live in that allows such actions? Orang kata dia 'over'. Tak kenal pun, entah-entah nama pun tak tahu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been the victim of such a situation before where my own friend accused me of things I never even thought about doing to her. Semuanya salah buruk sangka. Tanya betul-betul pun belum, terus nak menuduh. Macam mana tu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that people who do such things have major insecurities sampaikan nak kena cakap buruk pasal orang lain to make themselves look &amp;amp; feel good. I'm not pointing fingers nor am I saying I'm such a saint in situations like this but I just wish people would be less judgmental and more open-minded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1726446168961669465?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1726446168961669465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1726446168961669465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1726446168961669465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1726446168961669465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/07/judges.html' title='Judges.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-3675439946176036346</id><published>2011-07-21T21:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T21:13:23.898+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Classmates.</title><content type='html'>Bulan tujuh nak habis dah, baru dua post? Weh, bulan lepas 10 post. Dahsyat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, ada July test and baru aku tau, baik jugak classmate lelaki aku. Masa ada test PJ, aku tak ada kertas objektif nak hitamkan jawapan. Omar duduk belakang aku and aku macam pusing and pandang dia. Dia cakap, "Kenapa, Zulaikha? Awak tak ada kertas objektif eh? Ameklah saya punya. Tapi dah liquid la, haha" Okay memang biasa la kan classmate nak tolong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi kan, Omar ada dua je kertas tu. Dia dah tulis nama dia dekat satu, tapi dia liquid balik sebab nak bagi aku. He did that before I asked him for one sebab dia macam tau aku nak mintak! Dahsyat tak? Pastu aku cakap, "Eh takpe ke?" Dia sambung, "Takpe takpe, saya boleh guna yang dah komot ni." Ya Allah, dia keluarkan lagi satu objective paper yang dah berkedut weh. HAHA. Lawak gila, tapi he insisted I have the prettier one. Baik kan Omar? Hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, Jazli helped me do my addmath folio. I didn't even touch nor see one bit of it. Dia tolong print and bind kan. Sebab tetiba cikgu suruh hantar last Thursday or else. Rajin tak dia? Ya Allah, aku nak menangis dekat sini sebab terpikir apa benda lah kan aku pernah buat untuk diorang. Okay emo pulak dekat sini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My classmates are all so nice to me. The girls jangan katalah, memang banyak tolong. Sampai tak terkata, syukur. Saya begitu sayang 5 Amanah :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-3675439946176036346?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/3675439946176036346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=3675439946176036346&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3675439946176036346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3675439946176036346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/07/classmates.html' title='Classmates.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2980542731665461418</id><published>2011-07-17T16:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T16:19:24.991+08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 things.</title><content type='html'>I promised Bat I would post on 20 things people don't know about me. So, here it is :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;My name is so simple and I like it that way. Orang selalu nak tambah Nur ke, Siti ke, ahh tamau tamau! Tak suka! Most people call me Ika. Some call me Zu and other weird names.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I play the guitar, piano and ukulele. But I haven't played the piano in quite a long time, sedih gila. I wanna play the drums next!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am allergic to cats and belacan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I like adventure. Any kind. I wanna go rock-climbing and climb Mount Kinabalu.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a total coward when it comes to horror movies! Cerita zombie takpe, tapi kalau macam Insidious tu, alamatnya menangis lah aku malam tu :(&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm afraid of dogs. Geli dengan cicak, ular &amp;amp; sewaktu dengannya. But I'm okay with insects.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favourite flowers are red roses. Typical, I know.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love it when people have thick eyebrows, thin lips and a jawline.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I absolutely &lt;b&gt;love &lt;/b&gt;Indian, Arabian and Thai food.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I tend to put my hand on my chest whenever I'm sympathetic or saying stuff like 'Oh my god, yeke!?'&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I tend to follow rules. I don't know why, but I feel uneasy when I don't. Unless I think the rules are stupid.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Some of my prized possessions are my guitar, iPod and Swatch watch.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I like to write. It would be so cool if I come up with a book one day or get published somewhere.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's hard for me to fall asleep because I have so many thoughts. If I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night, it takes awhile for me to fall back asleep again. And that's why I hate it when people interrupt my sleep -,-&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I tend to say the wrong things whenever I'm nervous or uncomfortable. I mean like, really wrong things :/&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm a huge fan of John Mayer and Paramore. I recently started being a fan of Adele.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I mostly listen to songs that aren't played in the radio. Kalau nak tau lagu latest, dah tak latest dah pun :|&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can be &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; mengada :) Haha.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm not really artsy. I suck at anything involving drawing, painting or hand-crafts :(&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sometimes, I get annoyed hearing myself talk. I don't like my voice that much at times.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2980542731665461418?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2980542731665461418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2980542731665461418&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2980542731665461418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2980542731665461418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/07/20-things.html' title='20 things.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8583649055318823889</id><published>2011-07-08T23:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T23:04:05.407+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nose.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i7Ofro6w9Eo/ThcZzbqbFhI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/Ij_KQMPlBM4/s1600/IMG_0678.JPG" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i7Ofro6w9Eo/ThcZzbqbFhI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/Ij_KQMPlBM4/s400/IMG_0678.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;This sign language, also known as 'the nose', can be used:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;To replace words for cursing. For example, A: Macam mana result kau? B: Macam ni *hidung*&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To express unhappiness/hatred/disgust. For example, somebody says your enemy is pretty. Thus, you do the sign.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To end a debate with someone when you have no idea what to say anymore.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When trying to come up with an idea or solution to a problem.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To keep away from boredom.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jauhkan diri daripada maksiat. (kay tipu je)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8583649055318823889?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8583649055318823889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8583649055318823889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8583649055318823889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8583649055318823889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/07/nose.html' title='Nose.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i7Ofro6w9Eo/ThcZzbqbFhI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/Ij_KQMPlBM4/s72-c/IMG_0678.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-978986077914099189</id><published>2011-06-27T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T00:00:41.444+08:00</updated><title type='text'>PMS II.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70g8ZbsREfc/TgdWOzM9vNI/AAAAAAAAAaM/03RlvrnFIBI/s1600/IMG_0546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70g8ZbsREfc/TgdWOzM9vNI/AAAAAAAAAaM/03RlvrnFIBI/s400/IMG_0546.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Aku kagum gila tengok benda ni ada dekat buku Bio aku. Ingatkan benda ni orang reka-reka je, rupanya ha tengok kau, masuk dalam buku teks aku. Kalau orang PMS, kau jangan main-main. Betapa banyaknya effect dia, banyak koma dia letak tau! Aku pun, kalau PMS, pergh baik lari. Aku dah percaya benda ni wujud. Be careful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-978986077914099189?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/978986077914099189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=978986077914099189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/978986077914099189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/978986077914099189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/pms-ii.html' title='PMS II.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70g8ZbsREfc/TgdWOzM9vNI/AAAAAAAAAaM/03RlvrnFIBI/s72-c/IMG_0546.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8775705221675155788</id><published>2011-06-26T23:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T23:52:05.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookie Monster.</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0oU-_fpDK9M/TgdRdt0-leI/AAAAAAAAAaA/8xAHcyBlIOI/s1600/IMG_0545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0oU-_fpDK9M/TgdRdt0-leI/AAAAAAAAAaA/8xAHcyBlIOI/s320/IMG_0545.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ada orang tu kan, dia suka benda alah saya buat ni. &lt;br /&gt;Siap tangkap gambar lagi tapi tak beli :(&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6PXCexU2Bx4/TgdRmJkNGgI/AAAAAAAAAaE/IRCknUgNki4/s1600/257263_2134662162488_1124071843_32550266_5477127_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6PXCexU2Bx4/TgdRmJkNGgI/AAAAAAAAAaE/IRCknUgNki4/s320/257263_2134662162488_1124071843_32550266_5477127_o.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Qiella tengah pegang duit. &lt;br /&gt;Nampak sangat macam sedang berniaga di situ.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x6Sh126QcSs/TgdRqGhw8BI/AAAAAAAAAaI/JxtNg26DsxQ/s1600/265303_2134665802579_1124071843_32550273_2487722_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x6Sh126QcSs/TgdRqGhw8BI/AAAAAAAAAaI/JxtNg26DsxQ/s320/265303_2134665802579_1124071843_32550273_2487722_o.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Peace yaww!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya penat berdiri dekat gerai tu dari pagi. Seronok jugak. Gerai sebelah aku gerai Kelab Pencinta Alam. Diorang untung gila sebab aku &amp;amp; Qiella telah membelanjakan wang sebanyak RM6 dekat gerai diorang. Haha. Tengok tu! Baik kan kitorang? Aku dah nak merajuk dah dengan Summa sebab dia tak beli pun dekat gerai kita tapi akhirnya dia beli jugak. Nasib baik tau. Hampir tak nak mengaku kawan dah masa tu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setiap signboard orang lain yang buat, so aku punya yang cookie monster tu je. Mely buat yang besar punya. Tak ada gambar dia sebab dia punya syif selepas aku dah penat jaga! Sebenarnya tak buat apa sangat pun hari tu sebab asyik duduk belakang meja. Pukul 11 baru aku beli makan kat gerai lain. Tak banyak sangat aku beli, banyak cilok dekat orang je. Aku asyik curi minum air Mariam especially, terima kasih Mariam. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ain bagi aku kupon nak beli ice-cream dekat gerai dia. Tapi aku lupa, aku main beli je. Pastu aku macam dah, ala tak terguna pulak ni kalau tak dapat diskaun :( Tapi takpe sebab Ain tambahkan ice-cream aku, percuma! Aku tak mintak pun. Hihi sayang dia :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8775705221675155788?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8775705221675155788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8775705221675155788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8775705221675155788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8775705221675155788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/cookie-monster.html' title='Cookie Monster.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0oU-_fpDK9M/TgdRdt0-leI/AAAAAAAAAaA/8xAHcyBlIOI/s72-c/IMG_0545.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1467048776691923639</id><published>2011-06-19T22:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T22:14:32.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anthems.</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been singing this with Tia in class:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="229" width="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BzE1mX4Px0I?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BzE1mX4Px0I?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="350" height="229" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pretty obsessed with it now. Crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sang the chorus to this non-stop last Friday:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="229" width="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9u9-AdPAOy0?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9u9-AdPAOy0?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="350" height="229" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'll sing this next Friday to sound less like a loser:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="229" width="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KlyXNRrsk4A?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KlyXNRrsk4A?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="350" height="229" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&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/3649712701782698072-1467048776691923639?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1467048776691923639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1467048776691923639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1467048776691923639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1467048776691923639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/anthems.html' title='Anthems.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8325370412191608243</id><published>2011-06-19T22:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T22:25:01.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Terkedu.</title><content type='html'>Hari ni aku lalu depan tempat aku lahir. Sebak dan terkedu di sini. Klinik di mana aku dan Mely lahir dah jadi hotel! Waa. Nama dia Hotel Comfort. Aku rasa macam dah lama tak round KL pulak bila tengok tempat tu, dulu klinik buruk, sekarang dah cat cantik apa semua jadi hotel. Tak dapat aku tunjuk dekat anak aku dekat mana aku lahir and cakap, "Ini tempat Ema lahir dulu." Ema tu maksudnya emak dalam bahasa Estonia. Boleh aku berangan jadi Emma Watson. Hahaha okay jangan tekan unfollow! Oh no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tempat lahir aku pun nak sama dengan Mely. Dahlah tadika sama, sekolah agama sama, sekolah menengah sama kelas sampai form 5. Eh aku memang tak pernah tak jumpa dia, haha. Kitorang selalu belagak kitorang dah lama kawan, dah 12 tahun tapi sebenarnya betul-betul rapat pun time Form 3. Nanti masuk kolej sama boleh? Kerjaya pilihan kitorang pun agak hampir. Aku nak jadi dietitian, dia nak jadi&amp;nbsp;pharmacist. Tapi kadang-kadang dia berangan nak jadi chef. Kau jangan, silap-silap aku pun nak ikut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on a song. I always inform Tia of my progress because she's always supportive in whatever I want to do that involves writing. We are both interested in writing, so that's why. I can say, I'm glad I have someone I can relate to on this. Mira asked me, "So macam mana lagu kau?" Aku pun dah macam lah ada orang kesah eh? Haha. Biar slow slow dulu. Kita buat niat ikhlas bukan nak habiskan cepat sebab orang nak dengar. Lagi pun tension buat laju-laju, tak sedap pulak. Ceh macam sedap je nanti do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of songs, petang tadi aku call Hana nak bagitau dia aku beli kasut sekolah baru, and cakap dengan dia pasal latest post kat blog dia. Dia jumpa lagu dia versi MP3, hahaha! Lepastu dia suruh check nama aku ada ke tak. Aku pun macam, "Eh mana ada lah, mesti tak ada ni, kau ni." Dia suruh Google jugak so aku try. Ada dowh! Aku gelak gila-gila masa tu, tak sangka. Haha! Aku rasa geli sebab ee lagu tu. Tengok ni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a08LSPSeY8A/Tf3-8URn-6I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/EWuUNo89g0I/s1600/zulaikhamohamadmp3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="187" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a08LSPSeY8A/Tf3-8URn-6I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/EWuUNo89g0I/s320/zulaikhamohamadmp3.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Hana, kau baca sendiri. Aku tak tersebut nama artist sebab asyik gelak. By the way, kalau orang search aku, nama kau ada. Tapi kalau orang search kau, nama aku tak ada. Tak sayang aku ke, hm haa hm haa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8325370412191608243?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8325370412191608243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8325370412191608243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8325370412191608243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8325370412191608243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/terkedu.html' title='Terkedu.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a08LSPSeY8A/Tf3-8URn-6I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/EWuUNo89g0I/s72-c/zulaikhamohamadmp3.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-5856172783324178744</id><published>2011-06-16T21:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T21:21:18.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Redink.</title><content type='html'>Farah likes it when I wear pink. I think I'm going to wear pink to tuition tomorrow just because of that. I mean, it makes her happy, I guess? Haha. Mira also likes me wearing pink. I don't see much difference in how I look when I wear other colours. Well, not really huge differences. So what is it about pink? I tend to wear pink, a lot. I swear I almost wear it every day. If it's not pink, then it's red. The colours pink and red are usually at the top in my drawers because I wear them often, thus they get washed frequently, thus since I am unintentionally drawn to these colours, I tend to absent-mindedly pull them out to wear. It doesn't matter if it's to wear to go outside, or if they're just t-shirts to wear at home or to bed. I never say I like pink. Never. Even though I do, like a lot. If you see me wearing other colours than pink and red then that is success in itself. I can't help myself. I am too lazy to stop and think about avoiding these colours. Seriously. It's like how I'm a bit lazy to shop. I'm going to mix these two colours into one word - "redink". Kelakar kan? Err, lantaklah. You shouldn't ask me why this has become a habit, I seriously have never known.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-5856172783324178744?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/5856172783324178744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=5856172783324178744&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5856172783324178744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5856172783324178744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/redink.html' title='Redink.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-251253789825486355</id><published>2011-06-13T21:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T21:33:06.702+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bits.</title><content type='html'>I've never really felt normal. I've never really had a problem with that. I might just be one of the weirdest people you've ever met. I know I'm not typical. Heck, I embrace it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one is completely understanding of the other. There are parts of me which people don't know about. There are parts of me that people can relate to. I relate to the small yet significant bits of my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Mely because we tend to have the same interest in almost anything.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Tia's philosophical and creative side.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Mira's way of thinking because I usually agree with her.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Farah because she never fails to know what I am referring to. Even if it is Gollum from Lord of the Rings.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Ezra's charm and enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Fatin's honest thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Izni's observant self as I am very observant as well.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Hana's sense of humour. Sometimes, I think she's crazier than I am, in a good way.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Cuppy's views on life. I like getting advice from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told you I'm not typical. I think too much don't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, even though they don't realize it, I've always admired these parts of these people. They are secretly very important to me. Shush! Ada lagi kalau nak listkan tapi melampau banyaknya.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-251253789825486355?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/251253789825486355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=251253789825486355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/251253789825486355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/251253789825486355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/bits.html' title='Bits.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-697121789500816521</id><published>2011-06-12T23:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T23:34:56.375+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mampus.</title><content type='html'>Esok dah start sekolah balik. Dapat results sekali. Mampus ah, mampus ah, mampus ah, mampus ah, mampus ah, mampus ah, mampus ah, mampus ah. Kalau kena ketuk ketampi depan kelas orang tu, jangan jahat sangat tau. Okay takpe, kita bertahan je. Baca doa banyak-banyak. Kadang-kadang aku rasa bodoh ah aku ni, bukan sebab tak pandai tapi sebab banyak buang masa -,- Okay tu je nak cakap, ha sekolah. Ya Allah, tolonglah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-697121789500816521?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/697121789500816521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=697121789500816521&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/697121789500816521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/697121789500816521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/mampus.html' title='Mampus.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-57245764287603892</id><published>2011-06-08T23:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T00:34:48.775+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Longing.</title><content type='html'>I am hungry right now. Can I have Burger King for breakfast tomorrow? Onion rings and fries and what not. Oh, I guess I know why I'm craving stuff. It's that time of the month again. So I won't feel too guilty eating so much :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to KLCC/Pavi with Hana &amp;amp; Izni today. After we had McD for breakfast at KLCC, we walked to Pavillion to see what else to do. There was nothing interesting to watch at the movies. Redbox was just beside the cinema and it looked so tempting I could taste it. Tapi yang kelakarnya, kitorang malu nak pergi counter tu tanya harga. Kejap-kejap kang, 'Eh betul ke nak pergi redbox ni?'. Siap pergi makan ice-cream dulu sebab tak tahu nak buat apa dah! Haha. After that pergi balik termenung depan redbox. Last-last aku dah menyampah, pergi je dekat counter tu sebab Hana kata takut menyesal tak pergi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memang tak menyesal pun. Bodoh je masalah malu-malu tu. Sekali ha kau dalam bilik, menyanyi macam rockstar habis. Tak malu pulak? Haha. The best part is, of course, when we sang Rolling In The Deep. Not once, but twice. I swear that song is stuck in my head now. Izni and I got the chance to sing 3 songs from The Script which is pretty much a must for me! And it was funny when Hana sang The Climb, macam orang gila pun ada menari dia tu. Haha sorry wak. Siap nyanyi Imma Be lagi. Kelakar do. Sumpah seronok. Thanks korang :) Kena teman shopping pun takpelah. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had tuition afterwards at night and I told Sufi that I sang Back To December just to make her jealous. Aku dahlah cerita excited, dia pun excited jugak. Haha tahpape je. Mely jadi bodyguard aku hari ni, nasib baik ada teman tau tak. Mira dahlah saja nak sabotaj otak aku, aku dah naik geli dah nak pergi tusyen. Tapi alhamdulillah, aku dapat menahan tadi walaupun menangis sikit. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to Vietnam tomorrow - my school holiday finale. I guess I can't have as much fun after this, aku dah risau gilalah. So, I'm trying to keep myself calm here. Release some tension. I'll be back on track soon. Though I long to be free, I wanna make it first. Afterwards you can satisfy your longings. But not now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-57245764287603892?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/57245764287603892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=57245764287603892&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/57245764287603892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/57245764287603892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/longing.html' title='Longing.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-3013663959717383157</id><published>2011-06-07T01:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T01:06:50.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daydreamer.</title><content type='html'>We went to Mid Valley the other day - Tia, Mira, Yasmin and I. Our lunch was at The Chicken Rice Shop, haha. For some reason, it tasted so damn good. You know how Tia and I love our chicken rice. Bila aku dapat tahu gerai nasi ayam dekat Greenwood tu terbakar, aku menangis tau, jangan main-main. Sumpah sedih. And recently, Qila told me there's gonna be a new gerai dekat mana entah. I'm happy again :') &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, we watched Insidious lah kan. Here's what I said to Mira, "Aku tak pernah tengok movie through lubang." I watched the whole movie through a hole on my popcorn bucket. Takut tau :( Kepala aku dengan Mira melekat habis. Dia lagi lah rugi. Tiga hantu yang first dia tak tengok sebab tutup mata! Sound effect and music dia tak boleh blah. Setan itu lagi lah, ahh! First time setan tu keluar semua orang menjerit. Haha. It was even scarier towards the end! Okay lah aku tak nak ingat balik, nanti tak tidur aku.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been loving Adele lately. Here's one of my favourites from her. I'll totally be hearing more of her. This song is immediately effective, if you get what I mean. It gets to you, so quick. Well, that's how I felt first listening to it. I feel like I miss a lot of people and a lot of things hearing this :') Simple yet moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="200" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tiKktzJfBJc?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tiKktzJfBJc?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="200" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&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/3649712701782698072-3013663959717383157?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/3013663959717383157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=3013663959717383157&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3013663959717383157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3013663959717383157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/daydreamer.html' title='Daydreamer.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-9213464013193643811</id><published>2011-06-02T00:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T00:26:27.521+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Content.</title><content type='html'>Let me see, oh it's June already. Today's business is nothing much. June's always boring for me, I mean, it has usually been that way. But I'm just gonna say I'm looking forward to it. You never know, kan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last Harry Potter film is coming out this July! I've been waiting for this for years. I grew up with it, and now it's ending for real. Nasib baik tau keluar bulan July ni. Tak macam Breaking Dawn tu menggedik nak keluar masa SPM. Anyways, gonna catch a movie with my girlfriends this Friday. I kinda hope it's Insidious but you know lah, I sangat bukan jenis yang tengok cerita hantu. Hantu Kak Limah Balik Rumah tu lain lah cerita. Tapi geram weh nak tengok cerita tu, harap-harap tak menyesal. Karang sampai SPM aku tak boleh tidur malam, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week, I'm going to Ho Chi Minh. Very much curious about how Vietnamese food tastes like. And practically what Vietnam is all about, really. Because tak pernah pergi. So I have no idea what to expect at all. Gonna test the camera out too and oh my God, shopping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel contented and grateful right now. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I have The Only Exception on repeat right now. If you knew me then you'd know that's my favourite song. It has been my favourite song for a year and a half now. I don't know why even after so long I haven't gotten tired of that song. It's been my best company when I went through &lt;b&gt;a lot&lt;/b&gt; of crappy stuff last year but the best thing is that the outcome of it was so much more. I have a lot of people that love me. Oh and I'm on my way to believing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-9213464013193643811?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/9213464013193643811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=9213464013193643811&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/9213464013193643811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/9213464013193643811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/06/content.html' title='Content.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1012516055646241925</id><published>2011-05-29T02:40:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T02:40:21.734+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joy.</title><content type='html'>A bit melancholic tonight. If that is the right word for it. I'm completely ecstatic that mid-term exam is over because it was so stressful and everything seemed like crap. I'm sure everyone is on my side on this one. I know I don't deserve to say it was oh so stressful because trial and SPM pun belum. To me, the worst subjects were Sejarah, Physics and Add Maths. Even the so-called easy ones were set a level more challenging. And never before have I felt so uncertain about my performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to give up on things like this, but so cowardly it would be to do so. Just because you're afraid doesn't mean you should give up. I think this quote is brilliant, "One of life's real failures is when you do not realize how close you were to success when you gave up." If it ain't over, then we can still try. And it is definitely not over. I'm just trying to get a good mindset back after all these let-downs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've given a lot of thought lately about the day we'd be taking our results next year. I only imagine positive situations about it and would rather not think about the fact that I might be heartbroken that day. I want us to be able to say that, yes, we actually did it. I want us to never regret. I want us to leave that school as winners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise you that if we do this, we'd only be overflowed with joy. Now ain't that great?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1012516055646241925?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1012516055646241925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1012516055646241925&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1012516055646241925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1012516055646241925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/joy.html' title='Joy.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-5078373981622535562</id><published>2011-05-24T00:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T00:18:33.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pessimistic.</title><content type='html'>I am quite disheartened right now and crazy worried about my Chemistry paper tomorrow. I don't know why I'm most worried about this one. Maybe it's because some of the other difficult papers have passed, excluding add maths though, haish. Because of that, I've spared these few minutes before midnight to blog before I go insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puan Ayu: Benda ni sepatutnya tak ada warna tapi dah tukar ada warna pulak.&lt;br /&gt;Someone: Kenapa, cikgu?&lt;br /&gt;Puan Ayu: Ha siapa tahu? Kak Ros tahu, kak Ros?&lt;br /&gt;Kak Ros: Dia tukar warna sebab dia dah &lt;i&gt;oxidized&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Students: *Wahh*&lt;br /&gt;Puan Ayu: Bagus, kak Ros!&lt;br /&gt;Me: A+ kak Ros!&lt;br /&gt;Puan Ayu: Ha A+ kak Ros!&lt;br /&gt;Students: *gelak ketawa riang ria*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hal pasal A+ A+ ni cikgu dah sebut dekat Haziq, "Bagus, Haziq. InsyaAllah A+." Very few people pernah dapat macam tu, maybe just one or two. And sekarang dah worried sangat pasal Chemistry ni, apa lah cikgu nak cakap :| Terasa sangat pressurized di sini. In truth, the subject where I feel most pressured is Chemistry. Actually, now I don't know whether to use the word pressurized or pressured. Can I not Google this for once?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paper hari ni okay. I'm not sure how many A's I'll get this time, but I can sense that it'll be a terrible experience for me. And I won't be surprised if I fail miserably this time. I seriously won't. I don't know why I'm so pessimistic tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-5078373981622535562?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/5078373981622535562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=5078373981622535562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5078373981622535562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5078373981622535562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/pessimistic.html' title='Pessimistic.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6399818089358656376</id><published>2011-05-22T00:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T10:17:24.865+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intentions.</title><content type='html'>Since SPM is getting undoubtedly closer, I have been mentally adding some things to my list of things to do after SPM. Other than doing the fun stuff like riding roller coasters with Mely, I've been recently interested in doing some volunteer work after my big exam. I want the time between post-SPM and pre-U to be a time where I could actually do something. Because right now, the main thing is to focus on studies. And that continues on when I get into college or university. I want it to be a time where I do everything I've been putting off. There's a lot of them actually, but I'm just gonna have to wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe that time would also be a time to mend one's heartache from leaving school. That environment we're oh so comfortable and familiar with. The friends and memories we made. Not many people know that I may be one of the worst people ever. I tend to, after awhile, be almost completely emotionally-detached from my past. I live my present life forgetting my past because I don't want to miss it so much. It's not good to linger about the past, missing it and not living your absolute best at that moment. Though I wish my life would go on perfectly fine after high school, I hope the memories will live on as well, as a reminder of how far I've come and how old I'm getting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And ultimately, I hope to live life with the purest of intentions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6399818089358656376?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6399818089358656376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6399818089358656376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6399818089358656376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6399818089358656376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/intentions.html' title='Intentions.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-34871066390929040</id><published>2011-05-21T14:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T14:51:14.573+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="257" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qjIsdbBsE8g?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qjIsdbBsE8g?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="257" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I like Charlie in his serious glasses! Having the sudden urge to get similar ones, haha. Since my iPod makes sounds whenever I get a notification from Facebook or Twitter, I really think I should turn it off now. Less temptation please. You really should watch this. Now to reduce my procrastination time and heighten my productive time :/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-34871066390929040?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/34871066390929040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=34871066390929040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/34871066390929040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/34871066390929040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/procrastination.html' title='Procrastination.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-729433339022986151</id><published>2011-05-16T22:22:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T20:18:55.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sedap.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 6px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--8-zf_raVVI/TdEwDw4FsVI/AAAAAAAAAXg/nN7iqJmPB-4/s1600/Untitled.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="116" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--8-zf_raVVI/TdEwDw4FsVI/AAAAAAAAAXg/nN7iqJmPB-4/s400/Untitled.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"&gt;Aww sho shweet &amp;lt;3 thanks syg :)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lines of the day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Puan Zulraidah: Awak eh yang nyanyi tadi, Zulaikha?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Me: Err, a'ah cikgu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Puan Zulraidah: Oh, awak memang suka Bruno Mars eh? &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;dengan muka ala excited&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Me: Oh tak sangat lah cikgu, saya tak suka sangat dia tapi suka lagu-lagu dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Memang perlu aku jujur dekat situ? Haha. Kau jangan tak tahu, Puan Zulraidah memang hardcore. She mentioned Lady Gaga a few times when she taught me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Me: Nanti baling bunga dekat akak tau.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Izni: Takpe kak, nanti Izni baling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-converted-space" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;milo kotak.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Aku macam, eh milo kotak? Sumpah aku suka kot kalau orang bagi milo kotak. Nampak sangat eh aku minum benda tu dekat sekolah setiap hari. Haha. Izni knows me well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Thanks everybody who helped. Thanks Mely teman aku tukar baju and all. Thanks Tia and Mira sorak gila baik punya. Thanks orang yang bagi makanan dekat saya, ada yang suap lagi tu. Sedap kerana penuh kasih sayang. HAHA kbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-729433339022986151?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/729433339022986151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=729433339022986151&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/729433339022986151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/729433339022986151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/sedap_8398.html' title='Sedap.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--8-zf_raVVI/TdEwDw4FsVI/AAAAAAAAAXg/nN7iqJmPB-4/s72-c/Untitled.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7258172461888125512</id><published>2011-05-15T12:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T12:01:05.137+08:00</updated><title type='text'>PMS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="292" width="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6qeTbmTJNJ0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6qeTbmTJNJ0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="350" height="292" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having it hard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7258172461888125512?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7258172461888125512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7258172461888125512&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7258172461888125512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7258172461888125512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/pms.html' title='PMS.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-3660234276101285857</id><published>2011-05-09T23:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T23:25:15.763+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleverbot.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SoIIpK3-q-c/TcgFMtUWMQI/AAAAAAAAAXU/lVLl701Uz00/s1600/cleverbot.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="187" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SoIIpK3-q-c/TcgFMtUWMQI/AAAAAAAAAXU/lVLl701Uz00/s320/cleverbot.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Conversation 1&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cleverbot: Nama kamu siapa?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: Tak nak bagitau!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cleverbot: Gedik lah kau ni.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Conversation 2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: I'm going to bed now. Good night.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cleverbot: Don't go.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: Tell me one good reason I shouldn't go.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cleverbot: I love you?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: But you're emotionless.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cleverbot: But you still have less emotion.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: Wow, nice wordplay.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cleverbot: Lol.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: Good night.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cleverbot: Night x.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;I've made a new discovery. I was reading Jazli's status about this thing and I was like, apa benda dia merepek ni? Memang benda ni merepek pun. It's my first time using it so maybe I'm still a bit high from it. I swear to God this happened. It's not human, but it sure is convincing. Makes me worried robots are gonna rule the world some day. Try it. I cried laughing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-3660234276101285857?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/3660234276101285857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=3660234276101285857&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3660234276101285857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3660234276101285857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/cleverbot.html' title='Cleverbot.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SoIIpK3-q-c/TcgFMtUWMQI/AAAAAAAAAXU/lVLl701Uz00/s72-c/cleverbot.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1914662139976615109</id><published>2011-05-09T19:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T19:24:17.964+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intense.</title><content type='html'>I'm on my Mid-Year exam already. Sufi's been singing Back To December for weeks now. I really should've learned the lyrics by now if I want to sing along. Some number texted me, "Zulaikha Mohamad! Remember Me?" and I was like macam mana I nak tau you siapa, nombor pun tak kenal. I replied, "OH MY GOD YES. Haha, siapa ni?" I told Tia about it and how I was annoyed by such mystery. I don't want to die not knowing who that was. I have this itch, this intense curiosity. Thus, I'd prefer to know. Turns out it was Bie. But I don't mind, she gave me some words of encouragement which I rarely hear. Or in this case, read. Good luck now, kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1914662139976615109?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1914662139976615109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1914662139976615109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1914662139976615109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1914662139976615109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/intense.html' title='Intense.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-9189780699598749144</id><published>2011-05-08T01:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T01:04:54.327+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky.</title><content type='html'>Sekolah hari Sabtu memang rasanya lain. Rasa macam, "Eh, kita sepatutnya tidur lagi kan sekarang?" Entahlah apa definisi lain dia, tapi memang rasa dia lain.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tia suka betul ungkit cerita dulu. Hari ni dia cerita pasal dulu kitorang bertiga, which is plus Yasmin, nak beli Aunty Anne's tapi macam biasa, asyik tak cukup duit je kalau keluar. Tia beli apa benda jadah hotdog ke apa entah. Yasmin and I, since tak ada duit, share beli satu. Pretzel ni selalu ada dip dia kan? I wanted chocolate, Yasmin wanted caramel. Masing-masing, "Eh tak kesahlah, mana-manalah." Selepas cakap tu, keluar ayat lain pulak, "Tapi aku nak yang ni..." Bila Tia ceritakan balik tu dia kata, "Masing-masing bajet baik konon tapi nak jugak chocolate and caramel korang tu."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bajet baik tu dah kira okay lagi. This year lagi lah, kitorang bertiga share 1-foot Subway, Tia jenis tak kesah sangat. Aku dengan Yasmin gaduh pasal apa entah nak letak dalam sandwich tu. Asalkan ada dia je gaduh pasal whatever lah, nak tengok movie apa ke, nak makan apa ke. Dah biasa. Tapi takpe, saya janji kami kawan baik. Haha. And Tia mentioned yang dulu kita macam tak ada life, balik sekolah pergi Taqwa, lepak kat rumah whoever and gelak ketawa sampai maghrib bagai. Baru aku sedar betapa kelakarnya zaman itu. Major time wastage, man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hari tu kan, Ezra and I were at the surau. Kitorang dekat tempat ambil wuduk. Syaza menuju ke tempat itu, and tegur Ezra. "Hi Ezra!", dia kata. Aku pun dah, "Zulaikha? :(" Syaza cakap, "Oh hi Zu! Aku tak nampak pulak kau." And aku pun cakap, "Aku tau kenapa kau nampak Ezra je. Sebab jerawat dia yang BESAR gila tu kan? Ha aku tau dah."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hari ni Mely jatuh tapi saya tak dapat saksikan, saya rasa begitu rugi.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hari ni Ezra punya jerawat dah surut, saya tak boleh ejek dah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hana kata dia nak teman saya pergi makmal bio, malangnya dia tak datang. Saya rindu dia teman saya.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Takpe, selepas ni saya jadi lucky. Ada Blackberry dan muka berseri-seri.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-9189780699598749144?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/9189780699598749144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=9189780699598749144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/9189780699598749144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/9189780699598749144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/lucky.html' title='Lucky.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6230294535751017590</id><published>2011-05-02T00:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T00:19:31.364+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Calar.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3SfqnyZbtjQ/Tb2CqT2YPiI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/SyMqb8IJSZc/s1600/028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3SfqnyZbtjQ/Tb2CqT2YPiI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/SyMqb8IJSZc/s400/028.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Alhamdulillah, hari ni daddy saya beli camera baru. Bersyukur sebab macam tak ada camera yang boleh guna dekat rumah ni. So, sekarang boleh tangkap gambar Bell banyak-banyak, haha. Bukan DSLR, just PowerShot biasa. Sebenarnya, apa jenis dia pun aku tak tau. I shot this picture of a mirror and, well, me from quite a far distance. Dari jauh ni zoom sampai boleh tengok calar-calar dekat cermin tu. Jadi jakun. Kau tau apa? Semua benda aku jakun. Boleh zoom 35 kali ganda, beb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Mujur tak nampak sangat double chin aku dekat gambar ni. By the way, hari tu, tak ingat siapa yang discover tapi Ezra kalau tak silap. Kalau Mely tengah bercakap, cara nak senyapkan dia, kita pegang double chin dia. Ezra cakap, "Eh tengok aku pegang double chin dia je terus dia senyap!" Masa tu dekat kantin and saya nampak adik saya, Izni. Saya suruh dia try buat. Dia pun terus pergi 'borak' dengan Mely sikit-sikit and pegang. Memang berkesan wei. Selepas ni kalau banyak sangat dia cakap, aku nak try ah. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Ilmu sihir apa lah ni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6230294535751017590?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6230294535751017590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6230294535751017590&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6230294535751017590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6230294535751017590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/calar.html' title='Calar.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3SfqnyZbtjQ/Tb2CqT2YPiI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/SyMqb8IJSZc/s72-c/028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7117501679994117751</id><published>2011-04-30T23:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T00:39:20.702+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet.</title><content type='html'>I just shampooed my hair this morning. Here's the thing, my shampoo smells like my favourite chewing gum. I first picked it because they're similar. I say, Fatin's oh so observant. She took a look at my bathroom and noticed what shampoo I use. It's the same as hers and she loves the chewing gum version as well. I seriously never thought anybody would come up with the exact same reason as to why I use a certain shampoo. Am I the only one amazed by this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, she bought some of the chewing gum. I caught scent of the devastatingly sweet aroma that I immediately turned to her to ask if I could have some. Melampau jugak explanation aku ni, haha. And then I angkat-angkat kening sikit dekat dia, dia pun paham. Then she tilted her head towards me asking me to smell her hair because she just washed it. The chewing gum made me happy enough. I want all of you to know that I love to chew gum like mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just saw Modern Family for the first time. Lawak gila! Patutlah banyak award diorang menang. Sekarang tengah rindu tengok Gossip Girl. After SPM, segala benda aku nak marathon. Dah ada pun dalam after-spm-list nak marathon How I Met Your Mother dengan Tia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I want all of you to know that, yes, Mira is taller than me by a few centimetres. But! My legs are longer than hers. This has been proven when both of us tested Nadzim's fixie a couple weeks ago. Mira tak begitu nak sampai peddle. Saya sampai. Tapi sakit ah main basikal tu. Sakit dekat mana? Oh, tak tau lah nak cakap macam mana. Kbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7117501679994117751?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7117501679994117751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7117501679994117751&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7117501679994117751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7117501679994117751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/05/sweet.html' title='Sweet.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8376495996817148805</id><published>2011-04-27T19:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T19:00:40.648+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Belagak.</title><content type='html'>April is almost done with. It's been an interesting month. Mostly good stuff. Alhamdulillah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what, I don't really like winning. Actually, winning feels great. In that sense, I love to win. But in the sense that it may&amp;nbsp;decrease our level of humility, I don't like what winning does. And so I say I both love and hate winning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winning and losing is life. There must be winners and losers. Winners shall outshine and be recognized by their excellence. And winning is certainly the best thing that could happen when you've tried so hard. But it can change a person - making them less grounded and at the same time, more stuck up. I wish I'd never go through such change. Humility is all too beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got two pats in the back today. A 'bagus' from Puan Ayu, and a good essay mark. Small yet have effect. I love what teacher said regarding my essay, "&lt;em&gt;It has a nice flow. You're on the right track.&lt;/em&gt;" On the right track? One small confirmation saying that I am moving towards achieving my goals. All I ever wanted to do was inspire people through words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Events such as winning, getting good grades and credit, and recognition worries me a little, if not a lot. All of it is rezeki. Thus, if we start to feel we are so much better than other people, remember that God can take back everything He has given you in a split second. Be thankful and share your gift with others. Contribute. It's the responsible thing to do (rather than belagak sini sana).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8376495996817148805?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8376495996817148805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8376495996817148805&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8376495996817148805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8376495996817148805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/04/belagak.html' title='Belagak.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7613966890176752812</id><published>2011-04-17T18:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T18:20:39.347+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored.</title><content type='html'>I've been so bored lately! Impatient, fidgety and stuff. Imagine yourself feeling the most bored you've ever felt. That's what I feel lately. I won't be surprised if I start running around just to stop feeling bored. Plus, I think running is fun except for the fact that I get out of breath quite quickly. Maybe all this restlessness is partially to be blamed on the sugar I've been taking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just learned Misery by Maroon 5 on guitar and it's like the funnest song ever. The chorus is mean. Haven't quite memorized all the parts though. And I'm kinda itching for new songs to hear. But sadly, I just haven't been introduced to anything I'm into. That's why I've been going through my favourite albums lately and listening to all those. I love the songs like mad but now I need something new. I think I'm going to find some band stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My test results - boleh tahan lah. Okay lah. Siap fail physics lagi. Nak kata aku bodoh Physics tak jugak tapi nak cakap macam mana eh dah fail lagi? Unexpected jugak results kali ni. Yang rasa buat okay markah tak tinggi mana. Yang macam tak terpikir pulak markah dia boleh pulak dapat tinggi. Kelakar pun ada. So kalau study dapat markah rendah, and tak study dapat markah tinggi? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, rasa panas dalam pulak. Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS; Is it me or is the 'embedded' button on YouTube gone? o.O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7613966890176752812?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7613966890176752812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7613966890176752812&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7613966890176752812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7613966890176752812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/04/bored.html' title='Bored.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4789378248040116775</id><published>2011-04-09T23:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T23:55:45.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Buttons.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img height="224" id="photo" src="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_liodktgTAF1qbhtrto1_500.gif" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This cat makes me so happy. Haha. Sho cute ^_^&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I stole it from Tumblr. Shh!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mr. Buttons - Lily said that on an episode of HIMYM.&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/3649712701782698072-4789378248040116775?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4789378248040116775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4789378248040116775&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4789378248040116775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4789378248040116775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/04/mr-buttons.html' title='Mr. Buttons.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-330333056992344109</id><published>2011-04-04T23:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T23:09:18.381+08:00</updated><title type='text'>High.</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here wishing I had a damn camera of my own. Or maybe I just wish I had the photos and videos that were taken this year. Memorable pictures like the time we dissected a frog. And videos of our random Chemistry lab intrusion. Gosh, that time was so fun.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boleh pulak suka hati je masuk lab buat experiment sendiri? Kak Ros lek je bagi kitorang buat, and siap tolong lagi kot. Dahlah semua bukak almari pakai lab coat. Haha. Berangan tahap apa dah tu. Our mission was to make small rubber gloves. Mixing latex and ethanoic acid, and dipping a Barbie doll's hand in it for a while, and then letting it dry.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afterwards, the Barbie dolls weren't enough so we dipped our fingers in the mixture. It was very interesting. Smelled like crap though. Latex. Urgh. Not as bad as the smell of sulphur or fermented rice though.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's our last year here and as the days go by, it's getting to me. That's why we're doing all this weird stuff before leaving. Within these three months, I've already done loads of fun things. Actually, &lt;i&gt;fun things that are either random and spontaneous or go against school rules.&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Things we've never done before. Alah not the bads like smoking and whatever lah. Things that are equivalent to that lab intrusion. Well, some are worse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just thinking about the lighter side of this year. Despite the great things we did, my close friends and I share problems that trigger anger within us. Ah, if Mira's reading this she'd probably immediately think of one person but the truth is Mely and I are currently conflicted as well and tak puas hati lah senang kata. Nak google 'tak puas hati in English' pun rasanya tak dapat translate. Oh ramai gila orang yang buat sakit hati ni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I'm just trying to be open-minded here. I always try to. So far, results okay lah jugak. I have somehow realized that there's still time before SPM. I've already fantasied about the day we get our SPM results. Now, in reality, I want to feel that high.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-330333056992344109?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/330333056992344109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=330333056992344109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/330333056992344109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/330333056992344109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/04/high.html' title='High.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4006454955627055391</id><published>2011-04-03T01:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T01:02:01.494+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Change.</title><content type='html'>Change seems more evident nowadays. But what if you start to hate the change? What if you have changed, and you're just noticing it now? You've changed towards the darker side and done things you know you wouldn't. Broken hearts you swore you couldn't. Still you don't want to turn back, because you're already comfortable. It has already become a part of who you are. And what if there's always been a small part of you that has known that you've always been that way? Now it's coming out. Becoming more obvious for the world to see. People say you've changed but the truth is, you've become more like you than they'll ever know. Evolving and it's beautiful.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm talking to myself here. Yes, I've been anxious and moody lately. It's somehow partially good for me. But mostly I'm just pissed off. Before I sleep, let's soak in some happy thoughts here. Oh yeah, I've been writing a lot of good stuff lately. I'm ecstatic about that. Goodnight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4006454955627055391?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4006454955627055391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4006454955627055391&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4006454955627055391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4006454955627055391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/04/change.html' title='Change.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1583597961709869471</id><published>2011-03-24T21:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T21:39:17.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Free.</title><content type='html'>I talk a heck of a lot these past few days. I love it because I haven't used the wrong words just yet, I usually do. Haha. I guess something's going right. I just hope it will last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paramore's currently in the studio recording new songs. I can't wait for them to finish and put another album out. Even though I very much miss the Farro brothers, I'm excited. They were perfect musically. Josh is such an awesome guitarist and Zac is the best drummer I've ever seen. It's heartbreaking to know they left the band. But at least Hayley, Taylor and Jeremy are still in it. The three of them perform their hearts out. Jeremy does mad headbangs and flips. They were wildly energetic during their concert here last year. New songs please :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuna just posted the MV for her song 'Gadis Semasa' on FB. I love that song, I play it over and over. It's my kind of music, that hint of jazz is too good. I saw this American girl singing the song on YouTube, it was mind-blowing to know that they hear our music. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays I just tell people what I want, how I feel and my views on life. I usually come up with random things to talk about, it's quite mad. But actually quite freeing. I'm in no way free until after SPM. I wish to be, but I can wait. What am I crapping about?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1583597961709869471?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1583597961709869471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1583597961709869471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1583597961709869471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1583597961709869471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/03/free.html' title='Free.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8794819025723578708</id><published>2011-03-21T23:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T20:25:52.574+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boastful.</title><content type='html'>I wanted to post on Saturday but I went to Cameron. I got some cactuses. Okay, the correct term is 'cacti' but 'cactuses' sounds more plural-ish don't you think? So I'll just come up with stories as I go along. Maybe not stories, just thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have come to realize that I am not only a curious person but I always seem to think that there's a meaning or reason to every thing that happens. Curious, not nosey. I have my theories on why some things happen. Tia knows a few of my theories. I swear to God that they are absolutely crazy, but Tia just accept my thoughts as though they were normal. That's why I only tell her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the time I told her that people with certain names will have friends with &lt;i&gt;these &lt;/i&gt;names. People with the same nicknames can click well. And best friends who seem like they're together 24-hours will have similar faces and people will notice so, joking that they're twins. And two people are unnoticeably drawn to each other at the very second they discover any similarities they share - that's why the relationship continues, as long as those similiarities are strong. I have more but they're much more nonsensical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my current research is on handwriting. I told you I think everything is meaningful. Thus, penmanship has meaning and shows us the writer's personality in a way. I recently checked out Hana's handwriting, because well, I was curious. The way she writes her 'h' and 'n's are adorable. She has to write in a certain way since she's left-handed and all. I went to her house the other day and I saw quite a lot. Funny things I forgot to tell her. I wanted to today but I didn't see her at all so tough luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Tia's got FB now which is a dream come true, really. Haha. So here I am promoting her. I gave her these Super Junior rubber wrist bands today. She loved them. Since Mira also loved her birthday present, I'm thinking I am quite talented at picking out presents, yes? Haha. Actually, I didn't know she would respond the way she did. Oh and Fatin accidentally told her we were making a video for her. It's not finished yet, but so far I, myself, am enjoying watching it. I edited it. Boastful me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8794819025723578708?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8794819025723578708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8794819025723578708&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8794819025723578708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8794819025723578708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/03/boastful.html' title='Boastful.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8128722937205018725</id><published>2011-03-12T02:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T02:51:01.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead.</title><content type='html'>Junior Masterchef is on telly now. You know that woman judge, she says to this kid, "You look like you've used a knife before." And the kid says, "Yes I have." In my head I added, "TO KILL. MUAHAHAHA." I'm dead serious that evil laugh was in my head. Oops, I said &lt;em&gt;dead&lt;/em&gt;. Yeah I know it's almost 3AM and all that's left is me and the people on TV. And and and, I'm deadly bored. Ugh, &lt;em&gt;dead &lt;/em&gt;again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8128722937205018725?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8128722937205018725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8128722937205018725&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8128722937205018725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8128722937205018725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/03/dead.html' title='Dead.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2965007390460502316</id><published>2011-03-10T22:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T22:11:41.482+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Productive.</title><content type='html'>You won't usually see me online at this time due to homework but here I am - "free" from homework. Yeah, actually, I lost my Bio homework paper. Haha. No, I'm not actually worried, I'm just bored right now. Plus, I called Ezra just now to confirm that my Bio score book is with her. I asked her if we really really got some homework paper last week, and dia kata berulang-ulang kali, "Eh mana ada lah, tak ada." Of course I didn't believe her, and then call Mira dia kata ada. Okay selesai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so to kill my time this night, I'm syncing my iPod to my iTunes. New music coming in, hooray ^_^ Okay now that's done with, err.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tadi pergi tuition Bio, I sat with Mely. She bought some skittles. I have no idea why she and Fatin love to eat skittles during tuition. I ate a lot at one time, cikgu buat lawak, and I choked on the skittles for a few seconds. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sleepy already. Here's to a productive night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2965007390460502316?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2965007390460502316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2965007390460502316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2965007390460502316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2965007390460502316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/03/productive.html' title='Productive.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4068438547542944034</id><published>2011-03-06T21:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T20:07:56.731+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pilot.</title><content type='html'>Look, look, I edited my blog. Even changed the name. Tia selalu ejek nama blog I yang dulu, hm :/ Merajuk la ni en sampai tukar. By the way, I just got new pens. I wanted to buy my favourite pens, but they are so expensive! Ya Allah, one for RM6.60, kau gila? So, I tried to find some alternatives and ended up buying pens that cost below RM3. Ramai orang kata aku suka barang mahal, memang pun, hihi. Tapi suka berjimat, so balance lah kan :D Usually, it takes quite a decent amount of time for me to buy new pens. But lately, cepat pulak. I used my favourite pen to write my history notes yang belambak gila and see, kejap je habis dakwat. Agak sedihlah sebab pen tu mahal and selalu guna, best gila wei pen tu :( Bought me new pens from Pustaka Rakyat, and I saw some pen refills. Oh, memang tak beli refill lah aku, aku terus buang je. So, maybe next time when I start buying my favourite pens again, I'll keep 'em in hopes that the refills would be substantially cheaper. They are Pilot pens, by the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4068438547542944034?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4068438547542944034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4068438547542944034&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4068438547542944034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4068438547542944034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/03/pilot.html' title='Pilot.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-3908194641333172959</id><published>2011-03-05T15:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T17:55:37.249+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Psychology.</title><content type='html'>Mira and I are sort of freaked out. Lately, we've been having the exact same thoughts at the exact same time. Up until yesterday it has been 3 times. I wasn't so shocked by the first two times though&amp;nbsp;when I talked about something&amp;nbsp;she coincidentally was thinking of.&amp;nbsp;During the second time, I said something Mira was thinking about and she was surprised. Sampai naik bulu roma dia.&amp;nbsp;Aku macam tak heran sangat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third time was when I wanted to start singing OMG, but she sang the part I wanted to sing before I could open my mouth. The exact same part O-O My heart was pounding. Aku pulak mula takut sebab betul-betul masa tu aku nak start nyanyi part tu and dia pergi nyanyi. Padahal aku boleh je nyanyi lagu lain masa tu, tapi tapi kenapa ni? Ada sekali tu kitorang tergerak sama time sebab nak&amp;nbsp;salin nota dari whiteboard.&amp;nbsp;Dia cakap, "Kau perasan tak kita gerak sama?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days, I'm with Mira from morning till night because of school, extra classes in the evening and tuition in the night. I prefer to sit with&amp;nbsp;her during certain classes because it seems we know each other's progress so it's easier. I think we've unintentionally developed a psychological bond. Haha. But I don't really know if it exists though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-3908194641333172959?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/3908194641333172959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=3908194641333172959&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3908194641333172959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3908194641333172959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/03/psychology.html' title='Psychology.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8882569430243878074</id><published>2011-03-05T15:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T15:21:22.411+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HiBye.</title><content type='html'>Selepas habis rehat, aku suruh Hana teman aku pergi kelas nak amek buku&amp;nbsp;sebab aku nak pergi makmal bio. So, boleh teman dia pergi kelas dia, sebelah makmal tu je. Kita suka kalau dia teman, hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hana: Aku kan jaga koop hari tu kan. Ada sorang budak form 5 ni. Eh jap, ni semua&amp;nbsp;form 5 ke? *pandang kiri kanan sebab lalu dekat blok form 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kalau aku tak risau kot kalau budak form 5 tu terdengar, kita boleh gelak sama dia. Haha. Sambung balik cerita,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hana: Budak tu nak beli biskut...emm, HiBye. Tapi dia pergi sebut mintak 'hibi'? Apa entah. Hibi? Kelakar gila weh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, aku tau biskut tu. Biskut tu yang ada coklat kat dalam tu kan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hana: Ah...a'ah. *eleh macam pernah rasa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ya Allah! Aku ada cerita weh, ya Allah kelakar gila! Pasal Tia, dia pun beli biskut tu. Dia sebut apa entah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dah sampai dekat kelas aku, and nampak Tia tengah berdiri depan meja dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ha tu dia. Tia, Tia, apa kau sebut biskut HiBye tu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hana cerita balik pasal budak form 5 yang cakap 'hibi' tu dekat Tia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Haha. Aku lagi lah, "hibiye".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kalau aku yang jaga koop tu, mesti aku kejam gila gelak sampai berguling-guling. Eh sorry, kesian dia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8882569430243878074?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8882569430243878074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8882569430243878074&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8882569430243878074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8882569430243878074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/03/hibye.html' title='HiBye.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4220371635048694281</id><published>2011-02-28T18:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T19:11:24.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mata Mira.</title><content type='html'>Hanya mata Mira yang dapat lihat perkara-perkara mengaibkan berlaku dekat aku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dekat rumah Mira nak pergi tusyen. Mely gosok tudung dia and tolong gosokkan tudung aku. Dia bentangkan tudung dekat katil Mira. Aku tak tahu yang Mely dah habis gosok tudung aku. Aku dengan semangatnya cakap dekat Mely, "Eh kau punya tudung sama brand dengan aku? Saiz pun sama!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira pun buat muka pelik dia tu and cakap, "Ika, tu memang tudung kau lah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tambahan: Hari ni aku dapat tahu yang Nisha pakai tudung sama brand and size dengan aku. At least wujud lah kan orang sama tudung dengan aku kan? Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masa rehat tadi, aku nak cakap dengan Mira tanya pasal extra class. On the way, memang cool gila aku catwalk dowh. Dekat tangan dahlah ada sandwich, muka tengah feeling makan. Mira nampak aku nak pergi dekat dia. Sekali, tebabom! Eh, silap bunyi. Sekali *gedebek* aku terlanggar kerusi dekat kantin tu. Dan daripada saat aku terlanggar tu, sehinggalah aku sampai dekat Mira, dia gelak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku macam tak heran lah sebab aku memang selalu langgar benda. Tapi kalau kau tengok, ya Allah, kelakar gila cara aku terlanggar tu. Dah sampai dekat Mira pun dia tak berhenti gelak. Aku sampai menangis tengok dia gelak. Haha. Tak puas hati betul apesal sakai gila. First, aku cerita dekat Hana sebab nampak dia tengah makan tapi masa tu tak menangis. And then, masuk makmal fizik, cerita dekat Farah sampai menangis air mata mengalir macam air terjun. Sambil tu, Ezra ada, cerita dekat dia jugak siap buat demo lagi. Kemudian, Ezra cerita dekat Qila and buat demo jugak. Semua dengar cerita, semua ketawa macam gila. Sampai Qila menangis-nangis sebab gelak kuat sangat, and aku apetah lagi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku tak kasi pun Ezra cerita tapi dia cerita jugak. Mira pun cerita dekat Fatin and Tia walaupun aku tak kasi. Takpe, takpe ;(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Petang tadi. Praktis oral dekat tempat biasa. Cuma tinggal aku, Tia &amp;amp; Mira. Tia bawak camera, aku pun main snap snap lah gambar diorang. Sebab sebelum ni dah tangkap gambar sendiri, jarang dapat pegang camera tau. Okay, aku pun tangkap lah gambar Tia &amp;amp; Mira. Diorang jauh so aku zoom lah. Okay, settle. Gambar cung. Kembali tangkap diri sendiri. *click*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku tengok balik gambar yang aku tangkap tu. Kelakar gila bhai. Aku gelak and menangis sebab kelakar sangat sangat tengok gambar tu. Mira pun tengok aku, dia cakap, "Asal?" Aku continue gelak lagi, lama gila. Sampai tertutup-tutup muka, sampai tepuk-tepuk lantai. Suara macam tak ada nak keluar sangat, jadi Mira baca mulut aku jela kot. Aku cakap, "Zoom tak habis," maksud aku, camera tu still tengah zoom. And aku tunjuk gambar tu dekat Mira. Macam mana rupa gambar tu? Nampak gigi and hidung&amp;nbsp;aku je semangat senyum. Nampak besar je. Aku dengan Mira apa lagi? Gelak macam ni, "Ahah hah hah hah haha!". Eh jap belum habis lagi, "Ahahaha&amp;nbsp;HAHA hahah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sampai Tia nak tau cerita pun, aku dah delete gambar tu. Ha tengok, Mira je boleh jadi saksi. Aku cakap dengan diorang yang aku kalau memalukan diri, memang berturut-turut sampai tempoh seminggu. Lepas tu, dah okay balik. Boleh tak macam tu? Kelakar tu memang tapi sedih jugak ;(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4220371635048694281?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4220371635048694281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4220371635048694281&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4220371635048694281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4220371635048694281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/02/mata-mira.html' title='Mata Mira.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8743262195269823498</id><published>2011-02-27T12:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T12:28:55.622+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Mourning.</title><content type='html'>My Sunday mornings these days usually consist of me playing my music loud on the speakers and singing along, blogging and YouTube-ing. Right at this second, I'm listening to Aizat's album which Izni lent to me. Eh, sedap tau lagu-lagu dia. Ada yang menusuk kalbu gitu. And I'm currently hooked on &lt;em&gt;For The First Time&lt;/em&gt; by The Script. Danny always sings so good. I've been a fan of The Script since 2 years ago when &lt;em&gt;The Man Who Can't Be Moved &lt;/em&gt;came out the radio. Mely and I are huge fans of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love collecting albums, and I seriously listen to all of them and memorize their songs. I guess if I properly analyzed and calculated how many songs I know the lyrics to, it'd be hundreds and it would seem that I've wasted my time. Haha. I suddenly have the urge to tell all of you that I love memorizing things. It's just something I do because it seems exciting for me. Just about anything, you name it. Lyrics, phone numbers, equations, the first 10-digits of pi. Well, I need to use my brain for something. Filling up its capacity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March is oh-so near. Mira and I want to start being serious. I hope. According to her, there's 160 days left till SPM minus school holidays and weekends. Doa banyak-banyak. Nak berjaya ni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patutlah tak de mood dah nak online. Dah pukul 12. Haha. Ta-ta for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and by the way, this cover of &lt;em&gt;In The Mourning &lt;/em&gt;is awesome. Hayley posted this on paramore.net a while back, and I just saw it. I love the guy's voice, pernah jugak tengok cover dia sebelum-sebelum ni. Love the new Paramore song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="200" width="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RdPK_gy_-oA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RdPK_gy_-oA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="350" height="200"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8743262195269823498?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8743262195269823498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8743262195269823498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8743262195269823498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8743262195269823498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/02/in-mourning.html' title='In The Mourning.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8027856479724213746</id><published>2011-02-27T01:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T01:16:28.979+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stalker.</title><content type='html'>Rindu Jemah. Jadi, stalk Facebook dia. Rupa-rupanya, dia lagi stalker. Aku tengok status dia boleh tahan banyak quote dari blog aku, post yang lama-lama pulak tu. At least ada orang membaca, haha. Jemah, cuti March ni jumpa tau, haih ;/ Wana juga. Takut dia merajuk pulak, hee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8027856479724213746?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8027856479724213746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8027856479724213746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8027856479724213746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8027856479724213746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/02/stalker.html' title='Stalker.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2541656797959203071</id><published>2011-02-20T01:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T02:30:43.901+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Felons.</title><content type='html'>Bismillah. Harap-harap tak ada cikgu yang membaca. Haha. Apesal ah? Sebab kitorang balik awal tadi -,- Ala, kau ni tak payah lah cakap aku ni budak jahat. Memang alasan aku logic dan tepat beb. Tak ada apa-apa sangat dekat sekolah, langsung tak masuk ilmu apa. Kelas tak ada, kursus yang bosan je ada. Jadi kami ditch nak bincang pasal oral. Tia kelakar gila bila turun bukit tu, dia cakap, "Astaghfirullahazim, astaghfirullahalzim, apa aku buat ni?" Aku ingatkan Tia nanti relax je and aku penakut, sekali terbalik. Tak sangka aku bukan budak baik dah. Haha. Apa aku merepek ni? Ala tapi masa turun bukit je Tia gelabah and then cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Lama dah tak buat kerja macam ni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Last time aku buat macam ni masa Form 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Last time aku buat macam ni masa hari sukan tahun lepas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Eh, a'ah. Aku pun sama. Takpe ika, bila lagi kita nak buat macam ni? Last year sekolah dah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Tu lah kan. Betul jugak. Ha selepas ni vandalisme, buli and gaduh tarik-tarik tudung dengan kau. Semua benda kita buat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: A'ah, lepas tu conteng dinding tandas. Jap lagi tulis 'Mira babi' lah apa. Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, vandalisme boleh tick sekarang. Kitorang ramai-ramai dah conteng meja lab fizik. Buli pun boleh tick kot. Senang je benda alah tu. And gaduh tu entahlah. InsyaAllah pada masa yang akan datang. Okay, watch out Semerbak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2541656797959203071?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2541656797959203071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2541656797959203071&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2541656797959203071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2541656797959203071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/02/felons.html' title='Felons.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4617121260134481681</id><published>2011-02-16T23:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T23:26:17.369+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drowsy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kinos, baby!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooray, Tia dapat candies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Siapa bagi kau candies?&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Aku.&lt;br /&gt;Me: *chuckles&lt;br /&gt;Tia: "Kinos baby!"? (apa yang dia tulis dekat card tu)&lt;br /&gt;All of us: ?&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Apa benda ah ni? Tak ingat lah.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ah, ah, ala aku tak ingat lah. Aku rasa aku ada time kau tulis tu.&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Ish, aku tak ingat lah.&lt;br /&gt;Mira: Engkau, dahlah tulis nama aku yang bagi. Masa aku tengok tu aku macam, 'Sejak bila pulak aku beli untuk Tia ni?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira nak bagi? Jangan harap. Dahlah hutang aku RM3. Hihi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Satu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalam kelas, buat kerja sejarah yang belambak gila nak mampus. Asyik menulis tahun 1800-an belaka. That was 200 years ago and we need to learn it. A thought occured in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Tia, kau tak rasa ke, orang yang hidup tahun 200 tu dia nak belajar sejarah dulu-dulu, dia baca dalam buku teks dia, "Pada tahun 1..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Tia: Hahahah! Aku tak terpikir pulak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, the thought of the existence of the year 1 is amusing. And also, again, for some reason, when asking for someone's opinion in hopes that that person agrees with our opinion too, teenagers begin their sentence with, "Kau tak rasa ke?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fixie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has got to be the funniest incident I've experienced in Twitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tweeted, "&lt;i&gt;I secretly want a fixie bike. Woops."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then this fixie-bike-selling company randomly responds to my tweet, "&lt;i&gt;Secretly? Say it loud, say it proud! Check out http://purefixcycles.com/ - $299, Free Shipping!&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just advertised them. Damn it. I thought I was sort of invisible in the Twitter world, as I'd like to be, but apparently this bike company found me! I feel so much more famous now. Thank you, PFCycles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost midnight, which is the perfect time to read this. You'd be drowsy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4617121260134481681?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4617121260134481681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4617121260134481681&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4617121260134481681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4617121260134481681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/02/drowsy.html' title='Drowsy.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1862215391735835921</id><published>2011-02-06T23:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T23:28:25.906+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Babbling.</title><content type='html'>Esok sekolah yayy. So much work. Everyday buat kerja, hmph. Okay la okay la, this is my last year at semerbak. Nanti rindu pulak buat kerja sekolah. Haha. Ada ke?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days I've been listening to Jack Johnson. I now have the urge to buy all his albums. I'm loving his songs. So chill lah mamat ni. In truth, I listen to music that most of my peers don't listen to. I bet they'd be fidgeting listening to my playlist because the songs are, well, of genres they ain't used to. I'm checking my iPod right now and my most played songs are songs from John Mayer, Paramore, Alphabeat and a few jazz songs, late 90's pop and stuff. I love the late 90's pop, it's so nostalgic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really live without my iPod. I do most anything there. It's fast and convenient. Ever since having my own iPod, I've been using the laptop less. Because when I use the laptop, I tend to drag on and spend some time watching YouTube. And I love YouTube like mad. I use my iPod to check Facebook and Twitter, read people's blogs and sometimes Google words or homework-related stuff. Tak payah la nak bersusah payah bukak laptop nak Google satu benda je.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sleep with my iPod. I once told Fara that, and I think she said guys would be scared to know that. Haha. Well, I think that's what she said. Okay, next thing to get is a Canon Ixus. We don't have any quality cameras, it's such a bummer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1862215391735835921?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1862215391735835921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1862215391735835921&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1862215391735835921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1862215391735835921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/02/babbling.html' title='Babbling.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-5921061649559306787</id><published>2011-02-01T23:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T23:47:17.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insight.</title><content type='html'>Bulan satu dah habis. This is my 200th post, by the way. Geram aku tengok dia 199 posts. It's not so much since I've been blogging since 2007. That makes almost 4 years right? Sekarang lagi aktif. Kira aktif lah ni kan? :D Kalau boleh jangan tengok sangat lah post-post lama tu. Yang ala masa form 1 and form 2 tu. Aku sendiri pun takut nak tengok! Haha. That's for future reminiscing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, February. I can't believe it's February already :( Hm, I can't help but feel insanely worried. I never go through a day without this anxiety. A lot of things are bothering me at the moment. I'm trying to not let them be a setback for me. I've talked over a few of my problems with some friends. A bit of relief and positive insight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather not whine though, I try to focus on the things that are going well. I usually try to solve a conflict myself and talk about it later when I'm done with it, because when I talk about it then and there, I don't think I'll be thinking straight. Everything at that time might be mostly controlled by emotions rather than logic. Being too emotional might lead to a bad decision or a bad mindset. Once we've calmed down and think about the conflict we are dealing with, we'll have a better understanding of how to solve them. Sometimes, we make things worst if we don't think things through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With every failure, disappointment or frustration, calm down first and see what other options you have. If you looked, you'd probably find it. As I've said before, it's all fated. You're not meant to get what you want at that exact moment. God has other plans for you. Maybe He wants you learn something through that rough patch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From now on, I'm a philosopher.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe somewhat similar to the Love Guru. Marishka Hargitay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-5921061649559306787?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/5921061649559306787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=5921061649559306787&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5921061649559306787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5921061649559306787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/02/insight.html' title='Insight.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1540103510053333728</id><published>2011-01-30T21:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T21:04:35.745+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cab.</title><content type='html'>Naik cab dari stesen LRT Melati. Tia duduk depan dengan abang drivernya. Azri and I sat at the back. Abang driver syok sendiri bercerita dengan Tia pasal cuaca lah, sekolah lah, macam-macam lah. Sumpah kelakar. Apesal entah abang tu suka sangat berborak. Haha. Aku boleh bayangkan, kalau dia break and jumpa cab driver lain, mesti dia borak punya. Azri tulis message dekat phone dia untuk Tia baca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azri: &lt;i&gt;Kawan baru kau ke tu?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: &lt;i&gt;Kau tak tau, aku sengaja naik cab ni. Aku nak perkenalkan, kawan baik aku.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;i&gt;Dia single tak?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azri ambil phone dia and tambah, &lt;i&gt;Ika dah tergoda dah ni.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;*ee sumpah mengada, aku baru nak kenakan dia, haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: &lt;i&gt;Nanti aku bagi number dia. Kalau ika kapel dengan dia senang lah jugak kan kalau kita nak keluar.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku dengan Azri tahan gelak je. Kesian abang dreba. Dia tak berhenti cakap wei. Takpe, bang. Semangat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1540103510053333728?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1540103510053333728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1540103510053333728&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1540103510053333728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1540103510053333728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/cab.html' title='Cab.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8275417758122676808</id><published>2011-01-30T20:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T20:52:15.881+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rush.</title><content type='html'>Busy memanjang dekat sekolah. First, Puan Ayu mintak permission nak buat Chemistry class 4 masa untuk buat semua experiment chapter 1. Okay jom, buat kumpulan macam biasa, kitorang berempat - aku, Mira, Fatin &amp;amp; Qila. Okay, apparatus dah ambil. Kononnya dah tau sangat lah nak buat apa kan, padahal tak baca lagi buku praktikal. Haha. Whatever lah, taram je. Gomo kelate gomo -,-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qila: Eh salah lah, buat macam ni lah!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Eh betul la aku buat ni &amp;gt;.&amp;lt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira: Eh mana ada, kan cikgu kata suruh *blablabla*!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaduh belaka. Last-last, semua salah. Padan muka. Leteran cikgu sudah bermula. Kita semua kena marah buat silap. "Eh, bukan macam ni lah, my dear."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.corbisimages.com/images/42-20040464.jpg?size=67&amp;amp;uid=a5a1e2a7-15dd-4051-b637-f227c3e44cff&amp;amp;uniqID=0a6a9edf-ff12-4798-b4af-95feaec81280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.corbisimages.com/images/42-20040464.jpg?size=67&amp;amp;uid=a5a1e2a7-15dd-4051-b637-f227c3e44cff&amp;amp;uniqID=0a6a9edf-ff12-4798-b4af-95feaec81280" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Muka aku dengan Mira dah macam ni dah. Rambut pun sama.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Ada sekali tu aku terjatuhkan conical flask dalam sink masa tengah basuh dia. Bunyi dia kuat. Ala tak pecah pun. Lepas tu, aku cepat-cepat lari tak nak orang tau aku yang jatuhkan :D "Ada bunyi benda jatuh ke?" Muka aku still :D Bukan ke aku selalu careful dengan benda kaca? Apa dah jadi ni? ;( Mira pun jadi blur, Qila lagi lah asyik ingat dia betul. Haha! Fatin pun suruh kita cepat. Dahlah tak tau nak buat apa kan. Ish tension siot. Takpelah, first experiment of the year. Selepas ni, kalau jadi macam ni lagi tak tau lah. Kena pelepuk pulak kang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selepas 4 masa kena bebel, bengang je. Bukan sebab kena marah je jadi bengang, tapi juga sebab keluar rehat lambat sikit and selepas ni Sejarah &amp;gt;.&amp;lt; Rushing. Makan pun tak sempat nak habis. Tapi tak teruk sangat kena, nasib baik.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selepas tu rushing lagi, nak bedah katak pulak. Yang ni seronok! Mula-mula geli sial. Eee aku geli dengan katak. Tapi lagi sanggup bedah katak lah daripada tikus. Tikus comel sangat, keshian diew nanti :/ Bedah tu pakai glove, syukur. Tapi masa first-first nak pegang kaki dia and cucuk paku untuk dia lekat dekat board tu. Geli rasa di badan. Kaki dia keras tapi flexible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Group kitorang sama macam Chemistry but Tia join jugak. We cut open the frog like how the teacher did. It was very, very interesting. Cuba bayangkan. Katak tu dah kena potong dah, dah terbuka, tapi jantung dia berdenyut lagi. Kecik gila jantung dia. Dah keluarkan and letak ke tepi jantung dia pun still berdenyut. Lama pulak tu. Aku rasa maybe sampai 5 minit, entah-entah lebih.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The busiest day so far. Rushing day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8275417758122676808?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8275417758122676808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8275417758122676808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8275417758122676808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8275417758122676808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/rush.html' title='Rush.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7715544388470605605</id><published>2011-01-23T19:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T19:46:48.995+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Undone.</title><content type='html'>There's so much to do. I have so much going on and I have to work on everything everyday or else I'm just wasting my time. Even if you've done some work and you're taking a break, that break doesn't feel so great because you have more work to do and you're worried it can't be done. I don't just mean homework though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every aspect of my life craves for my attention now. More than ever before. I guess it's the pressure I put on myself. I want things to be perfect. The perfectionist side of me kicks in overdrive this year. I'm not sure how to stop being so careful at what I do. I want to succeed in everything I put out for this year. And I do not want to make any mistakes even though I know no one can achieve anything without falling down once in a while. I'll just have to cope when I do. Because with each failure and each downfall, Allah has decided which is the best for me at that time. So, don't sweat it. No hard work does not have its reward. And know that you have tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe I speak for many out there who are struggling and working hard, and feeling the hype of the month of January. It's the first month of this year, and it's coming to an end. Everything needs to be flowing already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Mira and I discussed about the months left for us. She showed me when the school holidays were, gerak gempur and trial and such. It's quite overwhelming. We wished there were no holidays at all this year because we were so worried. And she asked when were we going to be serious about all this. Because so far, all we're doing now is surviving and achieving at satisfactory. Working at it but not going totally all out yet. I want to start now. We all have to start now. We're a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm happy with my life but I want to be able to do so much more. I can assure you that I'm not done yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7715544388470605605?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7715544388470605605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7715544388470605605&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7715544388470605605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7715544388470605605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/undone.html' title='Undone.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7445109384974827222</id><published>2011-01-15T23:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T12:14:23.698+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gemilang.</title><content type='html'>Pergi try tusyen dengan skemanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira: Eh ika, kau bawak calculator tak? Hari ni add math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeke? Ala! Takpelah, aku bawak kertas banyak-banyak. Okay lah kot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Masuk-masuk je kelas tu, Summa Linda tegur aku.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summa: Eh, Zulaikha! Sorryyy! Saya terbawak balik calculator awak.&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dia hulur calculator tu dekat aku.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku dengan Mira dah macam &lt;i&gt;BAHAHAHAHA.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Wehhh! Sumpah kelakar! Aku tak tau pun calculator aku tak ada dekat rumah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira: Tau takpe! Tapi Fatin lagi kelakar weh. Hari tu dia tunggu mak dia amek. Dia cakap, 'Okay lah, aku pergi dulu. Mak aku dah sampai.' Selepas 15 minit dia datang balik, rupa-rupanya silap orang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;BAHAHAHAHA.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Habis kau tegur ke orang tu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fatin: Tak lah. Nasib baik. Tapi aku dah siap lari lagi kejar kereta tu. *buat muka hampa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sumpah tak tahan tengok muka Mira gelak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7445109384974827222?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7445109384974827222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7445109384974827222&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7445109384974827222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7445109384974827222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/gemilang.html' title='Gemilang.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4901046390522120218</id><published>2011-01-11T15:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T15:18:24.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guango.</title><content type='html'>Teacher: Guango is guava + mango. Kalau tak berat sangat tangan nak click tu, you can Google 'guango'. It is round and orange in colour. I don't know about the taste though, because you can only see it through the computer but not taste it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia &amp; Me: *buat aksi menjilat skrin komputer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Mmm, it tastes of computer screens!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4901046390522120218?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4901046390522120218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4901046390522120218&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4901046390522120218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4901046390522120218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/guango.html' title='Guango.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-701968025025225764</id><published>2011-01-09T15:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T15:36:41.329+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breather.</title><content type='html'>The first week of school is done. Due to the fact that our class is at the same place it was last year, it feels like a continuation of Form 4, instead of a new beginning. It is new in some parts. Most of our teachers are new, and everyone has a new sort of enthusiasm pulsing through their veins. Anyone who ever thought Form 4 was that &lt;i&gt;honeymoon year &lt;/i&gt;has never gone through it. It was difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, there was a lot that you have to adjust to. That was the difficult part of it. All I know is that you have to make yourself ready for just about anything. Right now I have to get ready for SPM and many other things I wish to accomplish this year. Forcing myself to be ready. And I'm sure, anyone who has big plans for the year will have self doubts and feel constantly worried of how things might turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how may I push through this constant fear of failing for I have never failed miserably before? The answer is much simpler than the action. Courage. Taking risks. I'm not exactly looking for advice. I just need a breather. Or perhaps some time to sort things out. Set my worries aside and focus. I just don't want to disappoint myself because I know what I want. I just have to go get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am all too grateful to have a great support system, friends that have my back.&lt;br /&gt;Good Sunday, everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-701968025025225764?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/701968025025225764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=701968025025225764&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/701968025025225764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/701968025025225764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/breather.html' title='Breather.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2044849132820073031</id><published>2011-01-05T23:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T23:50:40.749+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seventeen.</title><content type='html'>Syukur. I am seventeen years old today. Such an odd number. Oo! Oo! For God's sake, I just remembered Twilight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How old are you? Seventeen. How long have you been seventeen? A while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yay, I'm like Edward now. Haha. Alhamdulillah, I am still alive. 17 years is quite something. I can take driving lessons now, right? Maybe I'll ask for a Volkswagen next year. Oh wait, thank you everyone for the wishes. Wishes in Facebook. Wishes in person (my favourite). Wishes in form of texts. Wishes in form of song (my other favourite). My class sang for me. Haha. Cuppy and Azri sang too. Azri jangan cakaplah, always over the top. Thank you :) Reminds me of school last year when I shouted my wish for her on her birthday.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My classmates were great, thank you. Thank you, Hana, and also her friends. Tengok, nama kau ada, hikhik. Thank you, masam :) Thank you, Alya, first wish aku dekat sekolah! Haha. Semangat kau kejar aku pergi kelas. Tak sempat nak letak bag lagi. Okay, tak ada lah kejar sangat, kelas sebelah je pun. Thank you! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I got some prezzies today from friends. Some hugs as well, my "Hug Me" button badge managed to meet my target of no less than 5 hugs. It was funny. It was one funny day, I can't help it. Look at what I got.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLOLeP4wI/AAAAAAAAAV4/Tz9odWrq7Qo/s1600/IMG_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLOLeP4wI/AAAAAAAAAV4/Tz9odWrq7Qo/s320/IMG_0032.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Fender electric-acoustic guitar ^_^ Just bought it at Bentley a few days ago. Thank you mak abah.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLVdny2MI/AAAAAAAAAV8/jhRIlVhZ1Y4/s1600/IMG_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLVdny2MI/AAAAAAAAAV8/jhRIlVhZ1Y4/s320/IMG_0035.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This gorgeous bracelet from Atiqah Syairah. I love it, Tqa. Thanks! :)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLcU_SuKI/AAAAAAAAAWA/g77gKN3DXE8/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLcU_SuKI/AAAAAAAAAWA/g77gKN3DXE8/s320/IMG_0036.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Some cute paperclips from Fara. I told her the one with the blue crown is my Korean man. Haha. Thanks :) I might even put them in my hair.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLjKJptwI/AAAAAAAAAWE/VmVti52DSRE/s1600/IMG_0038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLjKJptwI/AAAAAAAAAWE/VmVti52DSRE/s320/IMG_0038.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The owl necklace I asked Tia for. With a watch also ma! Thanks, Tia :)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ya Allah, aku kesian dekat Izni. Cerita dia, mak ai, sedih gila. Haha. She said she bought an owl ring for me to match my necklace but lost it. Guna duit sendiri pulak tu, lepas tu boleh pulak dia menangis sebab benda tu hilang. Kesiannya, aku pun sebak jadinya. Sumpah terharu. Tapi entah-entah dia tak beli apa-apa pun untuk aku, dia reka cerita sebab dia kesian dekat aku. Haha. Tak de lah xD Tak, tak. Izni baik.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And I got a text from Farah Madiehah just now. Dia kata dia nak wish pukul 11:59pm, before my birthday ends. Tapi since dia mengantuk, dia hantar baru-baru ni pukul 11 macam tu. Kelakarlah. Lagi kelakar, pagi tadi masa Physics, Fatin tanya dia, "Farah, masa awak gelak awak nampak ke?". And Farah laughs at the question with her sepet eyes seeming like they aren't open at all. Mata Farah sepet, masa dia gelak macam tak bukak mata! Haha. Such a cute question for such a cute laugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Goodbye, birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;P/S: Tia said, "Tahun depan kita boleh tengok movie &lt;i&gt;tuutt&lt;/i&gt;. Tak payah dah nak suruh, 'Eh engkau lah beli tiket!'" Haha. What a statement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2044849132820073031?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2044849132820073031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2044849132820073031&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2044849132820073031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2044849132820073031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/seventeen.html' title='Seventeen.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TSSLOLeP4wI/AAAAAAAAAV4/Tz9odWrq7Qo/s72-c/IMG_0032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6337438128883656908</id><published>2011-01-03T15:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T15:24:46.120+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Semangat.</title><content type='html'>Okay, okay, satu hari sekolah dah pass. Semua orang semangat gila tahap gaban. Haha. Tia tak habis-habis, "Azam tahun baru, azam tahun baru." Sumpah berusaha nak stay alert or at least awake. Tia, Mely and I sit in the front right corner of the class. Aku dekat penghujung segala penghujung. Boleh tahanlah. Can see the board fairly okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the teachers are different except for Chemistry and Add Maths. Still Puan Ayu and Mr Chiu. Ish, susah gila nak berpisah dengan Mr Chiu. Tiga tahun kot belajar dengan dia. Tapi baguslah kan. Excited to see how Puan Adura is going to teach us. I've always wondered. Now I get to experience it! I already told Fara and Alya who my Sejarah teacher is this year. Oh my, for some damn reason, I'm scared as heck. Kecoh gila cerita dekat diorang. Ya Allah, tau lah aku penakut kan. Aku nak berdoa banyak-banyak ;/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tak nak buang masa! Tak nak! Tak nak!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6337438128883656908?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6337438128883656908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6337438128883656908&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6337438128883656908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6337438128883656908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2011/01/semangat.html' title='Semangat.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4742194633950806086</id><published>2010-12-31T23:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T23:59:14.404+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hopeful.</title><content type='html'>I was startled hearing fireworks here in Melewar. It's not 2011 just yet. Maybe in Australia it is. Orang yang main mercun tu orang Australia kot? Eh, bestnya ada jiran mat salleh! Hihi. Okay, ini last chance aku nak menggedik untuk tahun ni, terima je lah :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say, to sum up 2010, is that it has been an incredibly eye-opening year. It has turned my world upside down in some areas. In other areas maybe it has only turned my world sideways. If that even makes sense. I am truly glad of how this year turned out in the end. The life lessons I've learned really helped me understand the world better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't be more grateful of 2010. It was such a year. It was so much different than previous years. 2009 was simply an awesome year. 2010 was just one giant blob of experience shoved into my face. It has made me a better person than before. And the friends I've gained this year, I am blessed to have so. I've had a wonderful time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hopeful of the new year. My friends and I - we're going to make it right. I don't know why I'm so excited. All I can say is syukur alhamdulillah for the fond memories and experiences of 2010. It has helped me grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;InsyaAllah all goes well this 2011. I pray so. Amin. Happy New Year! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4742194633950806086?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4742194633950806086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4742194633950806086&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4742194633950806086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4742194633950806086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/hopeful.html' title='Hopeful.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6406227488234019297</id><published>2010-12-28T00:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T00:53:28.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired.</title><content type='html'>It's true. I act differently with different people. I do different things with different people. Simply because they bring out a different side of me, because everyone is different. No one who has ever lived is exactly like the other. Incredible, I say. Who am I going to the playground with if not Mely? Who am I going to tell my most incomprehensible thoughts to if not Tia? Wait, the playground part is kinda funny. I went to two playgrounds with Mely last 23rd. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love discovering new things about life. I'm completely fascinated by it. One thing I've discovered is in every friendship between two people, every pair is different. Like Tia and I, or Mely and I, or Mely and Tia, per se. How a friendship is formed is quite something. How a friendship can last a long time is really something. I always think back about how I could've become friends with someone. Some take a long time to bud, some are like so instant as if it's canned soup that instructs you to 'just add water.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The instant part, it's happened to me quite a number of times. One day, us PMR students had a rehearsal for anugerah day. Atiqah Syairah lined up behind me. That was probably the first time I had a talk with her. When I think about it, it's sort of funny, because even though that was our first chat, she let me lift her up. Yeah, um, lifting people and carrying them around. That's sort of my hobby. Tia's the lightest of them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with Tia too. The first time I talked to her was in front of the school surau during Form 1. I joked and she laughed. I knew if I could make her laugh that hard, there's gotta be some sort of chemistry. There was this instant form of trust, of friendship, that made us wondering, 'Why haven't I been talking to you all this while?' Because all-year round we were classmates. Only at the near-end of 2007 did we become friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, our birthdays are coming up - Tia and I. She's one day older than me. Ever since Form 2, we exchange gifts. I would give her something and she would give me something. So far she's given me the first Harry Potter book to complete my series and a bunch of shawls. This coming birthday, I said I wanted a vintage gold owl necklace - a tribute to good 'ole Hedwig. I asked her what she wanted. She said, some "Harley Davidson panties!" Haha. But she ended up wanting a bracelet though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The instant friendships I made so far have been incredible experiences for me. It's like, "I found you!" or something like that. First time talking - woosh - at that second, you become great friends. Outstanding. It has never failed to inspire me. I wonder if anyone else have had this too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: I miss my Jems. Haha. Jemah lah. I put a new nickname for her. Jumpa Jumaat ye :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6406227488234019297?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6406227488234019297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6406227488234019297&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6406227488234019297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6406227488234019297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/inspired.html' title='Inspired.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-3868935689780358550</id><published>2010-12-27T01:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T01:50:46.569+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Short.</title><content type='html'>Counting down to 2011. Five days left. Yeah, I do countdowns. My birthday is about a week and a half away. Wee! Despite being happy enough to count the days, my friends and I have been freaking out about next year. Tak tenang langsung. Haha. Agak kelakarlah sebenarnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got the news of the possibility that there will be an exam this January. As I IM-ed with Paan just now, "Ini macam last chance kita kot." It seems like nothing we did before had anything to do with what we are about to face in 2011. Nak cakap siapa dapat or tak dapat straight A's untuk PMR pun macam whatever je. Tak ada kena-mengena pun. Masa first-first masuk form 4, macam eh? Kau apahal nak sumbatkan banyak sangat benda dalam otak aku?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I said, it's kinda our last chance. And this January, boom! First step to our last chance. Belum sampai lagi dah cuak. Tension tension. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'm getting older. I like it though. Bila nak birthday aku ni?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking through 2010 pictures. It was a great year with great lessons. But it felt short.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-3868935689780358550?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/3868935689780358550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=3868935689780358550&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3868935689780358550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3868935689780358550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/short.html' title='Short.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7237537077738230168</id><published>2010-12-22T00:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T00:09:34.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullet in his Gullet.</title><content type='html'>Every blogger has times where they think they're just writing boring stuff. I'm feeling it! Ugh, kenapa lah rasa macam tak ada cerita menarik ni. Duduk rumah je, mana taknya. And dah start rasa macam, siapa je baca blog aku ni? Haha. Ish, fed-up lah. Stress tau tak. Dengan tahun depannya, dengan orang yang tak boleh harapnya -.- Aku dah nak tidur dah ni. Takut susah je nak tidur. Stress tak tentu pasal. Macam-macam buat aku risau dah sekarang - SPM next year and sesetengah orang entahlah sengaja nak buat aku bengang ke apa. Treat people nicely lah, honest lah sikit, bertimbang rasa lah sikit. Hm, dahlah. Sakit kepala aku. Goodnite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7237537077738230168?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7237537077738230168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7237537077738230168&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7237537077738230168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7237537077738230168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/bullet-in-his-gullet.html' title='Bullet in his Gullet.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-340773942768424231</id><published>2010-12-21T00:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T00:28:15.907+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randoms.</title><content type='html'>Lately, I've been listening to John Mayer's &lt;i&gt;Room For Squares &lt;/i&gt;album. I love the album. Okay, tak ada orang terkejut di sini. I'm just stunned at the fact that even at his first album, his songs are incredible. Super groovy. For me, this album is a great soundtrack for someone who's waking up in the morning after having some good sleep. It's like everything seems and feels so good. You are just in a good place in your life, and everything seems to be going your way. And you're ready to kick some ass that day. For when you're actually kicking ass, well I listen to something else. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a fan of his since I was a little kid. I don't know exactly when I started to listen to his music. But his first album released in 2001. So, probably around that time. Imagine an eight-year-old listening to John Mayer. I remember listening to Why Georgia on the Yahoo! Radio. Haha. Good times. Music is a great release for me. Anything I need to let out, I listen to music and sing along. There's a song for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paramore's &lt;i&gt;Misguided Ghosts &lt;/i&gt;has served me well. During their concert here, Hayley cried after singing this song. I heard she cries every time performing this song. I think the saddest line in the song is "The ones we trusted the most pushed us far away." &lt;i&gt;All I Wanted &lt;/i&gt;is pretty intense and powerful too. Incredible vocals on this one. I love the words to this song. Seriously, everyone should give it a listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I see myself, I think I'm a bit of a loner, yet, not so much because I have quite a number of friends. I like to do a lot of stuff on my own. It's kind of freeing. I don't mind walking around by myself. Not usually, though. Sometimes, I'd rather do things by myself since I feel like other people are, sort of, suffocating me. I'm not always like that but I can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to be as open-minded as possible since I always have my own perception about people before I really know them. I realize that's bad. I am a very realistic person. I always think I know what I am or what I'm doing is right. I can admit things. Like, I know I can be irritating at times. I know I can seem a bit cocky. I know I like to talk a lot. But I don't really mind as long as I'm with those who accept these things about me and I accept their quirkiness as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I guess. I think most of my thoughts consist of people - how I see them, how I see the world, how people can relate and me wondering what people's views are as well. I'm one curious child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S - Hana, post baru awak tu comel ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-340773942768424231?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/340773942768424231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=340773942768424231&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/340773942768424231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/340773942768424231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/randoms.html' title='Randoms.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-5521701940858466256</id><published>2010-12-19T09:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-19T09:28:42.260+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pretty Reckless.</title><content type='html'>I recently bought Science &amp;amp; Faith - The Script's new album. Purty good, they sound like they usually do which is great. But bukan nak cerita pasal tu. I browsed around my iTunes and suddenly, eh, ada The Pretty Reckless dalam ni? Abang aku download kot. So aku pasang la kat iPod aku, curious sangat kan with Taylor Momsen and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay, tekan play. &lt;i&gt;My Medicine&lt;/i&gt;. Hm, interesting intro. Guitar dia sedap. Taylor baru nyanyi dua line ni - oh sedap sedap. And then, HOLY CRAP! Jap. Sedap gila. Apehal sedap sangat ni? Serious, attitude dia nyanyi memang tak boleh blah lah. She's just 17. Muda-muda dah terer macam ni. Maybe aku tak expect sedap macam ni kot, so macam terkejut sekarang. I love her singing. Full attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a fan now. Some nice Rock 'n Roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="193" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/paudmGKB2FY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/paudmGKB2FY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="300" height="193"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-5521701940858466256?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/5521701940858466256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=5521701940858466256&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5521701940858466256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5521701940858466256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/pretty-reckless.html' title='The Pretty Reckless.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2298601382394796641</id><published>2010-12-14T23:43:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T05:55:28.592+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bright.</title><content type='html'>Had breakfast at Taqwa today with Mels and Fara. Last minute thing. Aku tiba-tiba nak hang-out kat sana dengan Mely, and Fara came by the house to watch some Maid Sama. Actually satu episode je tengok sebab sibuk tengok music video Gee. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mely and I tried the yoga thing on Fara's phone. Yari ada sensor apa tu untuk main game. Kalau kita jatuh, orang dalam screen tu pun jatuh. Kelakar weh. Kitorang berdua tak habis cakap pasal The Sims 2. Mely said if she could only play one game for the rest of her life, it'll be The Sims 2. Damn straight I agree with her. Rindu main game tu. Rindu kena culik dengan alien. Rindu jadi hantu lepas tu bayar $100 dekat Grim Reaper kalau nak hidup balik.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, here's a little dialog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Kau nak tau tak? Tadi nenek sedara aku cakap, "Mak balik esok eh? Yay!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fara: Lepas tu kau cakap dekat dia, "Esok kau balik! Yay!". HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: HAHA. Serious semangat gila dia kata yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to clear things up, my parents are arriving from Medina tomorrow. So, Aki Tam and Wan Tam won't be in charge in this house anymore. Fara's making some kurang ajar joke. Tak boleh blah sungguh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alya, aku tak tau la kau baca blog aku ke tak. Nak datang rumah boleh? Rindu. Rindu rumah tu, bukan kau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I just found out The Script has a new album. Oh I have to have it! I loved their first album. I don't follow their updates that much so I didn't know till just now, I saw the picture of the new album on Cleo. Birthday present perhaps, Mely? :) We love The Script. Danny, actually. Suara menawan. Bright, indeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2298601382394796641?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2298601382394796641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2298601382394796641&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2298601382394796641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2298601382394796641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/bright.html' title='Bright.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-3455612594164151916</id><published>2010-12-14T02:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T03:03:20.054+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Transition.</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in like, 5 days now. And there's nothing to write about. I've been literally living like the dullest person on Earth this past few days. The same routine. Not even an exciting one. The same &lt;i&gt;boring&lt;/i&gt; routine. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Damn it, I just remembered I haven't recorded Maid Sama. I'm doing it right now. Uhh, okay, I just went to book the 6.30 p.m. show for recording, it turns out, I already set the damn thing to record every day. Haha. Lucky me. I won't miss any episodes. Lama dah aku tak tengok kartun Jepun macam ni. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;This year's school holiday is absolute boredom. Last year, I remember going out almost every day. I probably watched every movie that came out. Well, it felt that way. Plus, after PMR kan, rasa macam bebas sangat. Padahal apa je. Haha.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I guess this is the last school holiday I'll have as a semerbak student. Next year after SPM dah tak sekolah sini dah. Us seniors are planning on having the best year this 2011 :) I'll miss it so damn much. But we gotta move on. I'm pretty stoked about growing up. For some reason, I think I will have success. I want it so bad I think I already have it.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I'll be seventeen in less than a month. I'm always excited for my birthday. The transition from sixteen to seventeen feels heavy to me. It's as though being sixteen is fresh but seventeen is a little more serious. That's just me though.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Now, I'm trying to not use the laptop after 12AM. I'm using my iPod btw, hihi. I can't sleep. I guess I won't be online after 12. So, those I usually chat with at midnight - Wana, Hana, Izzat - sometimes Paan too, I won't be online. Izzat, tadi aku nampak kau online padahal aku dah sedia tidur dah. Haha. Aku dah nak jaga diri aku balik. Kau pun sama lah. Nanti masuk sekolah tak tentu arah pulak. SPM, baby. Tahun depan kena rajin. Mira, kita dah jadi budak rajin dah sekarang. Selepas SPM, baru jadi budak hot balik. HAHA.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I can't wait for next year. Let me be excited okay? I'm sure it'll be great. Idk, maybe I'm just in a good place right now, where everything seems good. I'm content.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Hm, but I'm hungry. I always am this holiday -_- Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-3455612594164151916?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/3455612594164151916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=3455612594164151916&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3455612594164151916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/3455612594164151916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-havent-blogged-in-like-5-days-now.html' title='Transition.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-5933348255046231617</id><published>2010-12-08T03:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T03:31:08.733+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clear mind.</title><content type='html'>My mind is cluttered with thoughts right now. One thought leading to another and another. Everything relating to each other even in the slightest way. No insomnia tonight please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I always think about my life and how blessed I've been. Sometimes, I can't even fathom why I've no huge problems in my life. Nothing of family, of money, of food. Nothing was troubling me in a big way. No physical problems, nothing &lt;i&gt;seems&lt;/i&gt; unbalanced. I'm not here to brag of the life I've had. I'm just overwhelmed. Sure I've had my share of devastation but nothing I couldn't handle through time. Maybe a part of me thinks that way because I don't like the idea of me being whiny. Or maybe I'm just, still, too young. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also not here to ask anyone to take anything I have away from me. I've been so blessed that I always worry that something bad would happen. You know, like, if I had a great time with family or friends that day, I always, and I do mean always, think of the worst that could happen at that moment. Someone died, someone had an accident, an earthquake or something. In every good thing in my life, I prepare for the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do that with every single thing I do. Probably not my grades though. I usually expect better results, but macam tak meningkat je. Haha. Okay, maybe not every single thing. Look, dramatic sudah. Probably just relating to people. For example, dealing with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't take friendships lightly. I don't take any relationships lightly. I'm not the best friend, nor the best daughter. But I am serious when it comes to these things. If someone hurts me, I'd be furious. I'll be thinking something like, "Why are you toying with my emotions?" or anything like that. It's incredibly funny for me to admit this because I'm not one to share my inner most secret thoughts. Ceh ceh. But I guess, if I wanna grow up, I need to. I've read you get to know yourselves a lot during adolescence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm all about reading these weird books. I'm not exactly a bookworm. I mean, I read books but I don't read a lot, I guess. About friendship, well I was trying to make this the main topic. I don't trust people too easily. Well, I don't trust every person I've acquainted with. I have my full trust in only a few people, my friends I mean. What I mean by full trust is that, I don't really have anything to worry about. I'm not afraid of how they might think if I say something. I feel they won't be too critical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I trust my Mels most. I've known her for so long. We are very straight-forward with each other. Nothing hidden, no sort of grudge. Not that I know of, though. Haha. We understand that we don't have to be a pair all the time. Separation is great in any relationship. Not like long term. But some space, you know. Separation gives us time to miss. And that's where, I think, the love builds. Attention ladies and gentlemen, Zulaikha Mohamad is crapping about love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I trust my twin, Tia, and my friend, Fara. Again with the straight-forward honesty thing, yada yada yada. But for God's sake, sometimes they scare the crap out of me. I guess it has to do with the face. While Mely's face is always sweet and happy, those two sometimes look very stone-cold. But when I think about that again, my face is very very masam too. I swear to God, every single one of my friends, before getting to know me, said I had a sombong face. Even back in tadika - Mely said that. Funny. I don't know if it's really true though, I don't know what face I make. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let me see, making new friends. Yeah. I love making new friends. But I'm scared knowing that there are new unpredictable minds observing me through a microscope. When I have a new friend, I always think they are very judgmental of me. Criticizing my every thought, my every word, my every move. It is exhausting at times. I'd analyze everything they say, to make sure I didn't missed any sarcasm or resistance. I feel as though people won't like how I present myself. I'm honest, too honest sometimes. I don't care if somebody doesn't like me before I get the feeling that we can be friends. But once there's a tiny spark of friendship, I'd start to worry. Sometimes though. Sometimes I just let myself loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that concludes my effort to prevent insomnia. I don't care if you don't read this, I just need some head-clearing to do. God, I think too much. Maybe Izni's song selection for me is accurate enough. Aizat's "Years From Now". Lyrics for the third line, "I think too much, I think too much."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-5933348255046231617?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/5933348255046231617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=5933348255046231617&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5933348255046231617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5933348255046231617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/clear-mind.html' title='Clear mind.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2797757290336077427</id><published>2010-12-06T03:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T03:52:11.737+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Purr.</title><content type='html'>I was trying to go to sleep just now, but then my stomach started growling like crazy. So, I went downstairs to make myself a tub of Milo to keep me full till breakfast. Anyways, I drank and watched Fashion Police. It was hilarious! Usually episode dia lawak jugak la tapi yang ni kelakar habis. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago, me and Kak Long were in the WUH car and she told me about Katy Perry's new perfume called Purr. We want to get it! They just discussed the perfume on Fashion Police. The bottle was in a cat shape, a purple cat. It was pretty cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joan River: Does this look like a perfume for adults to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giulianna: Let me smell it, let me smell it! It smells like a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha! Now, who wants to smell like a cat? I'd probably sneeze first before anything. Cat allergies. Let's get ourselves some new perfume. Maybe you should get Beyonce's, Kak Long. I'll take Purr. Haha. TV was great today. Wipeout was just too awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2797757290336077427?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2797757290336077427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2797757290336077427&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2797757290336077427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2797757290336077427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/purr.html' title='Purr.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-5205025828762219141</id><published>2010-12-05T23:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T23:22:39.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ridiculous.</title><content type='html'>I don't know if this is logical or not, but I'm already stressing out about next year. I mean, people say it's too early to be stressed out right now, but it's better this way, I guess. I kinda sorta started studying today. It was so little but it &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; something. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Mira, if you're reading this. I tried to relearn add maths just now and I blanked out. I need somebody to teach me. I can't teach myself. It's frustrating. I mean, really. I'm really really frustrated. You've never seen me frustrated so much right? Well, I'm already worried about next year. I guess I need to calm down. I'm not asking you to teach me. I bet you haven't been studying! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have time. But I feel like I have no time left! It's insane. I'm usually cool as a cucumber. But now I'm like, freaking out. Sorta. But I don't want no more pimples :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-5205025828762219141?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/5205025828762219141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=5205025828762219141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5205025828762219141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5205025828762219141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/ridiculous.html' title='Ridiculous.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6808484034017058501</id><published>2010-12-03T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T00:49:39.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BS.</title><content type='html'>Just went to KLCC/Pavi and watched The Social Network with Tia and Yasmin. It was super cool. Cool, cool movie. Anyways, me and Tia were talking about Korean channels on Astro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Aku sejak ada HD sekarang, asyik tengok cerita Korea je.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, One HD?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Ha?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Channel One HD tuu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia: Ha, a'ah. Channel tu nama dia SBS lah aku rasa. So sekarang ada KBS and SBS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, KBS? &lt;i&gt;Kinda&lt;/i&gt; bull shit. SBS? &lt;b&gt;So&lt;/b&gt; bull shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. No, I don't really have any problems with Korean shows. I sometimes watch 'em.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6808484034017058501?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6808484034017058501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6808484034017058501&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6808484034017058501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6808484034017058501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/12/bs.html' title='BS.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7808942916450225320</id><published>2010-11-30T06:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T06:33:57.691+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Go figure.</title><content type='html'>Despite how incredibly boring school holidays can be, I am absolutely loving the time off from school. Especially because my SPM year next year. Yeah, I finally said the word - SPM. It's terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a month left before school reopens, and this school holiday, well, it does help us reflect and plan for next year. Setting our minds straight and figuring out what we want to achieve. At least that's what I'm trying to do. I'm on my way to really figure things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Tia I want to reread Harry Potter. Well, technically rereading number 5, 6 &amp; 7 since those are the only ones I've read. I wanted to read the whole series since next year the last freaking movie is coming out. It's so sad. And I wanted to be committed to fully experiencing the whole Harry Potter madness. But that would not be wise of me. It would be better if I read history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because doing that, rereading the series, is stupid. It's not helping me getting closer to what I want to achieve. I'm talking about my SPM results. So, I'll have to be patient. I seriously need to read my text books. And you know what, as an alternative to my lovely fiction novels, I was thinking of reading motivational books. The whole next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna know why? Zawin read motivational books all throughout this year and damn it, she got straight-A's. The only one in school. She works so hard and she's such a bookworm. Sometimes funny, if I may add :')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I am trying to come up with ways to get closer to what I want. Step by step. And I know, it's 6AM and I'm not asleep yet. You can't say I didn't try to sleep early. Now I'm trying to slowly get my sleep cycle in order. Don't worry, I already have a plan. I always do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once told Fara I had planned my life as far as I can plan. It's true. Well, sometimes I exaggerate of course but I'm quite obsessed with planning and organizing and stuff like that. I secretly have OCD. Haha. Yes, I've figured out what job I want, what I want to do with my life, how many kids I want, how much money I wanna make, what car, what kind of house, what kind of lifestyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my plans. But, knowing me, I expect the worst to happen. And if what I plan doesn't work out. Then I'll just plan to be happy and go with the flow. End of story. Well, good night now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7808942916450225320?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7808942916450225320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7808942916450225320&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7808942916450225320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7808942916450225320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/go-figure.html' title='Go figure.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2040513465333432950</id><published>2010-11-29T06:11:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T06:23:37.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tangan cacat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="250" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JkBpFF_Ywnw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JkBpFF_Ywnw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so mad at this kid right now. She stole my song. She freakin' stole my song. The Only Exception? Hello! There are many other songs in the world okay. By the way, this is Hana Ameera. Tapi, dia mengada-ngada gabungkan nama dia jadi Hanameera. Sedap sangat lah tu? She told me that she's currently not interested in reading blogs written in English. Good for you! You won't know that I'm writing this then. Why? Why this song? Your cover is worse than mine, by the way. I sang it way better. Thank God. Hak tuih, tangan cacat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;She's a new friend of mine. My junior. Which is funny, since I don't know most of my juniors. I vaguely remember the day I met her. I was walking by the school canteen with my ukulele in hand, I brought it for my English oral presentation. Passing by, she caught sight of my ukulele. She was interested in it, which led her to ask me how much it costs. I think she said, "Akak,". I almost didn't respond to that. I usually don't respond to people's callings since I never think they were for me. Well, that wasn't vaguely was it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Long story short, I added her on Facebook. Which was probably a joyous moment for her since I was this cool senior that plays the ukulele and all. Haha. Come on, you know I'm kidding. She's funny. And obviously pretty. For some reason, we have a lot of similarities. There are times where we don't totally agree with each other but mostly yeah, similarities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I remember telling her that I liked finishing other people's sentences as I was impatient every time someone paused thinking of a word to describe something. She said it was the same for her. She said, "A'ah aku pun suka game tu!" I could not believe it. Dia panggil benda tu game? It was hilarious. I laughed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But I don't like her anymore. Not ever since she stole my song. You're going to pay. Hana#%$#meera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I've gotten to know more people this year. I think it's  because I've lost quite a number of friends this year. I didn't break up  with any of my friends. Nothing like that. A lot of people moved.  Remember? Tons. Well, friends come and go. That's just a fact. But I feel blessed now, really do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masam tak? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2040513465333432950?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2040513465333432950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2040513465333432950&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2040513465333432950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2040513465333432950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-am-so-mad-at-this-kid-right-now.html' title='Tangan cacat.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4199089875373015355</id><published>2010-11-29T05:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T05:40:32.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnia.</title><content type='html'>I hate days I just can't sleep at all. Look, it's 5 a.m. I was already on my bed at 2.30, but I just couldn't fall asleep. I hate insomnia attacks. Before "sleeping", I read a book. It made me slightly drowsy. I even listened to snoozy music. The thing I hate the most is the fact that during maghrib, I felt so sleepy that I know if I was to lie down at that exact moment, I would have fallen asleep. But of course la tak tidur, maghrib kan. So, here I am, despite being so sleepy before, I just can't shut off my brain to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, whenever I experience insomnia, it's because I have so many thoughts in my mind. I think about everything that is relevant to me at that moment, what my plans are for the future, what ifs and what not. Tonight, I tried to sleep, but for some reason I thought about cooking and the fact that I wished I could cook. I watch the food channel every day now. I long to make a caesar salad like the one at Delicious. The best salad I've had. Before Delicious, I literally hated dressing on my salad. Now I like 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I couldn't fall asleep, I tried to write down anything I needed to in a book. Nothing happened. No sort of magic dust that could make me sleepy was scattered into my eyes. No visit from the sleep fairy. And so, I grabbed my iPod and played my newly found addictive ninja game. I could never stop playing it once I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't lie, I've always been kind of good at video games. Maybe not puzzles or anything like that. Just good old video games. The combat ones, the fighting ones. I love me some shooting ones as well. I used to play Metal Slug. High-fived Tia when I knew she used to play the game too. It was like the cutest shooting game ever. I hate the 3D ones, I love the classic ones very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me back to the fact that when I was younger, I hung out with the boys a lot. Playing video games to be exact. I was probably around 10 or 11. My primary school friends. I just met up with Farid recently and he wondered what happened to Saiful. I remember Saiful very much, he was pretty much my best friend during standard 5. He used to live here in Taman Melewar too. Then he moved. I really wish to know how he looks like now, since he was a handsome young fellow back then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think about my childhood, I realize that I interacted with a lot of people. I wasn't too shy once I've warmed up. I actually know my neighbours, which is quite a relief since I feel safe because I do. And the fact that my aunt lives 2 doors down ain't bad. I could come over if there's nobody in my home. Whenever I went to Maju Junction, that good old place my mom's shop used to be, I am actually stunned at the fact that, at a young age, I conversed with adults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I wasn't so mature, but the fact that I had adult friends as an 8-year old was, umm, odd in a way. I mean, I wasn't afraid and I actually liked talking to those older than me. Even now. But of course I have more friends of my age now, more than before, so things are different. I'll talk about growing up at another time, I'm sure I've got loads to share later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4199089875373015355?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4199089875373015355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4199089875373015355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4199089875373015355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4199089875373015355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/insomnia.html' title='Insomnia.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8278591776421869434</id><published>2010-11-27T05:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T05:15:45.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay!</title><content type='html'>Kau nak tau tak? Aku bosan gila weh. Dua hari kot tak de internet. Aku memang dah sedia nak tidur dah tadi, dengan pasang lagu-lagu mendayunya kat iPod. Sekali, iPod aku buat bunyi. Bunyi itu hanya akan keluar kalau Facebook aku ada notification. Dah pukul 4 pagi kot. Terbeliak mata aku sebab terkejut tiba-tiba internet dah okay. Dua hari tak de okay. Abang aku kata satu Taman Melewar phone line tak boleh guna sebab kabel bawah tanah TM apa entah sedang dibaiki. Dahlah aku duduk kat rumah je, kalau keluar tu tak pe la jugak kan tak de internet. Betapa seksanya. Dah dengar bunyi tu, cancel plan nak tidur. Haha. Tahpape gila, tapi macam tak sabar dah kan. Online terus. Sekali, hamek kau. Tiba-tiba banyak gambar kena tag kat Facebook. Lepas tu, paling terkejutnya, ramai gila update blog. Sampai Mely pun weh. Dahlah dia macam tak menulis sangat kan. Tak tau la kenapa kagum sangat, tapi macam, Ya Allah, banyaknya nak kena baca! Haha. Aku rindu gila YouTube tau tak. Dah teringin sangat dah nak belajar lagu baru untuk piano dekat YouTube. Sabar je aku menunggu. Ni dah okay balik! YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8278591776421869434?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8278591776421869434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8278591776421869434&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8278591776421869434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8278591776421869434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/yay.html' title='Yay!'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-1836910760840648430</id><published>2010-11-25T03:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T03:22:20.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>4 Amanah.</title><content type='html'>Oh my God this post contains pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Amanah throughout the year. All from parties, really. Especially the last party. It was a great class and a great little environment to be in. We were happy and cheerful and most importantly, supportive of each other. I guess that's all that counts. I am proud of my class. A tiny bit embarrassed to say so too :') I hope next year's going to kick this year's ass since it's our last year. God forbid us be too down in the dumps. Or anything similar to that or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; color: #f9cb9c; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;From the last day party;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; color: #f9cb9c; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs491.ash2/76476_144030368979488_100001175785539_209664_5214238_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs491.ash2/76476_144030368979488_100001175785539_209664_5214238_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My table-mate, Tia. (I just made that up btw)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs576.ash2/149796_142694325779759_100001175785539_203541_6097332_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs576.ash2/149796_142694325779759_100001175785539_203541_6097332_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The hampers we had won. Hi, Wana.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1161.snc4/150308_176450229038916_100000218195963_659139_4636818_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1161.snc4/150308_176450229038916_100000218195963_659139_4636818_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My new disgusting friend, Ezra. My face tells it all doesn't it?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs955.snc4/74864_142694132446445_100001175785539_203536_4069480_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs955.snc4/74864_142694132446445_100001175785539_203536_4069480_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wana posing with our winning board. Tia's brilliant idea, of course.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1202.snc4/155475_144030348979490_100001175785539_209663_2211599_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1202.snc4/155475_144030348979490_100001175785539_209663_2211599_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mely with the decorations me and Kak Long made. Thanks for coming back, Mels!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs475.ash2/74875_160766960626126_100000784682503_263017_7273132_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs475.ash2/74875_160766960626126_100000784682503_263017_7273132_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Maryam &amp;amp; Syima. Always teasing each other. Syima's our drawer. I miss her since every day I hug her without fail and without invitation either. She's such a sport. I miss the running game we played. Haha. Hilarious!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs478.ash2/75132_160767563959399_100000784682503_263022_5704072_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs478.ash2/75132_160767563959399_100000784682503_263022_5704072_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fatin with not one, not two, but three bottles of Coke!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1170.snc4/154224_160768010626021_100000784682503_263027_1760660_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1170.snc4/154224_160768010626021_100000784682503_263027_1760660_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Doa, Haziq imam. Yay, decorations!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1172.snc4/154478_160768110626011_100000784682503_263028_1341409_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1172.snc4/154478_160768110626011_100000784682503_263028_1341409_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The avalanche of food. Look, Azri's enjoying herself!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1136.snc4/149818_160769263959229_100000784682503_263040_3459252_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1136.snc4/149818_160769263959229_100000784682503_263040_3459252_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="right"&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption"&gt;Sufi brought the white cloth along for us to sign. Brilliant!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs580.ash2/150244_160771347292354_100000784682503_263063_8287406_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs580.ash2/150244_160771347292354_100000784682503_263063_8287406_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The best game ever - as Fatin puts it. Sufi's idea - "Back to Back". The best thing is Ezra and I won. I remember during Back to Back three, tinggal Ally, Fatin, Ezra &amp;amp; I. I shouted at Ally to push out Fatin. So cruel yet so satisfying :)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1166.snc4/150840_160767090626113_100000784682503_263018_1962435_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Surprise! Mira, I just put this up so you know this picture exists. Haha.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I'm going to miss this. Not in a crying way though. In a smiling way. I suppose it's because we can guess what we're getting ourselves into next year. It is an uplifting feeling, indeed. In my opinion, I think each person in the class plays a role, a different one in their own way because we are all, somehow, valuable and influential in the whole community. If that even makes sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;We were one happy family. Goodbye, 4 Amanah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;P/S: Sorry for the picture overload =D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-1836910760840648430?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/1836910760840648430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=1836910760840648430&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1836910760840648430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/1836910760840648430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/4-amanah.html' title='4 Amanah.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8802225320211658230</id><published>2010-11-25T01:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T01:48:34.947+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pointless 2.</title><content type='html'>Here's a weird story for you. For me, it's not really weird since I usually am being unusual. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been sleeping way too late. I blame it on insomnia, the fact that my brain won't shut up and of course, the effin' internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Tuesday, I woke up at around 3.15 p.m. Gosh, I slept at like 6 in the morning that day. I immediately showered. La di da. I found myself not having a bra. To wear. Yes, Kak Harti has not been coming since raya. And yes, we are very much lazy to do the laundry. And that's not disgusting. It's like super bad-ass yo. So, I just put on a semi-thick sweater, for, uhh, safety. Surprisingly, I've not run out of clothes just yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing me, I've had resdung for as long as I can remember. So, those first few sneezes of the day are almost essential in my daily life. I went downstairs to have my meal. Eating some spicy fish dish Wan Tam made, sniffling, quite frequently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wan Tam thought I was sick since;&lt;br /&gt;A) Sniffling (Why must the lauk today be spicy?)&lt;br /&gt;B) Sweater (Why must I run out of brassieres?)&lt;br /&gt;C) I've been sleeping late and basically spending the whole day in my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out comes a cup of milo for me. Urgh. Can milo help the sick? I'm not sick! I'm just sniffling! And unlucky to have worn a sweater at that very moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, bubur nasi and more milo. I just had rice and made myself milo ais. I am very much well, and had enjoyed getting myself full. I don't know, I just don't think I should be worried much about since all this sitting in my room and sniffling and stuff is typical. That's what teenagers do. They spend time in their room like forever. Or they go out with friends. Yeah, at the very second Wan Tam said she's made me bubur, I began to regret not following Shhra. Haha. But that was for a brief moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my God, this is so pointless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8802225320211658230?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8802225320211658230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8802225320211658230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8802225320211658230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8802225320211658230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/pointless-2.html' title='Pointless 2.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6584599094303230492</id><published>2010-11-22T03:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T21:58:49.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Disaster.</title><content type='html'>A day before raya haji. Texting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fara: Woot woot! Disaster nak dtg rumah aku!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Yeke? Knp tak dtg mase raye je?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fara: Entah, dia nak tido sini pastu beraye sini esok. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tukar topik jap, lepas tu aku baru ingat apa aku nak tanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Oh, Wana bile nak sampai?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fara: Sampai mane?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Eh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fara: Eh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Bukan Wana nak datang rumah kau ke? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Ke tu sedare kau yang ape entah tu yang kau tak suke tu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fara: Sedare aku laa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: HAHA. Ye ke? Aku ye2 je ingat Wana tu gile tak malu dowh. Aku kan bagi dia gelaran disaster dan dia begitu bangge dgnnye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fara: Hahaha! Tak ah, budak kecik yang tak suke tu ah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku ingat disaster tu Wana. Kau nak tau tak? Aku macam, apehal Wana tak malu nak tidur rumah orang pastu nak raya kat situ? Sumpah kelakar gila bayangkan macam mana Wana nak mandi lah guna bilik air mak bapak Fara lah apa. Bangun pagi-pagi nak amek wuduk kat situ lah apa. Haha. Serius masa tu aku macam rasa malu untuk Wana. Tolonglah jangan panggil orang disaster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6584599094303230492?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6584599094303230492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6584599094303230492&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6584599094303230492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6584599094303230492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/disaster.html' title='Disaster.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-6815857593072253595</id><published>2010-11-12T15:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T15:44:27.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sixteen Going On Seventeen.</title><content type='html'>I am sixteen going on seventeen. Haha. Agak lambat lagi lah nak turn seventeen. Approximately two months.&lt;br /&gt;But but! I can't help myself! I want these for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tanglewoodguitars.co.uk/images/products/acoustics/evolution/tw28ce/large/TW28CSRCELRG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://www.tanglewoodguitars.co.uk/images/products/acoustics/evolution/tw28ce/large/TW28CSRCELRG.jpg" width="162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;A Tanglewood Evolution series Acoustic-Electric guitar&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img3.musiciansfriend.com/dbase/pics/products/4/1/1/465411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="183" src="http://img3.musiciansfriend.com/dbase/pics/products/4/1/1/465411.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;A Kustom 30-watt acoustic amp&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;They are pretty expensive. And so, I want money for my birthday. So that I can buy these. Haha. Tapi macam harapan lah kot, macam takkan cukup duit je. Kalau dapat nanti, alhamdulillah, beruntung. I want these so bad. A better sounding guitar than my current one. Would be heaven. I don't really need anything else for my birthday, well except maybe some wishes. But seriously, I just want these and I'll be completely ecstatic. Mak, bagitau abah ika nak ni. Here's a Sound of Music song :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YL27-VldopA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YL27-VldopA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-6815857593072253595?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/6815857593072253595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=6815857593072253595&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6815857593072253595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/6815857593072253595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/sixteen-going-on-seventeen.html' title='Sixteen Going On Seventeen.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4498471413404988567</id><published>2010-11-12T00:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T00:27:11.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective.</title><content type='html'>I can't believe 2010 is almost over. Form 4 is ending. Tak yah belajar kat sekolah dah. Eh jap, esok Puan Ayu Masni kata ada kelas. Ezra tanya kena bawak buku teks ke tak esok. Haha. Agak-agak cikgu nak ajar apa? Ke nak bincang kertas periksa? Bagus sungguh. Next year, masuk 5 Amanah, I think. Puan Ayu Masni macam mintak nak jadi guru kelas kitorang je. Mak ai risau aku. Haha. I think it is a good idea. I think she's going to intimidate us without even being scary. Thus, we work hard for our SPM. Baik stress dulu kan so that results gempak sial kan? Dahlah aku pun terkial-kial nak lulus periksa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gotten all my papers back now. Conclusion : 5A 3C 1D. Bapak lawak lah. Tak de B? Terus ke C haa. I got 2A's and 3A-'s. The C's are Biology, Sejarah and Physics. The D is Add Maths. Kalau yang lain-lain tu dapat B tak pe jugak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to apologize to Mira for being too crazy today. Generally, I am crazy. But I was putting out 120% today. Haha. Sorry if I made you deaf or anything. But this isn't a sincere apology, because I had fun doing my victory dance when I passed my Add Maths. My crazy days happen at least once a month. It runs more often approaching the school holidays though :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, what am I going to do with Tia? She says since she didn't take her Chemistry paper, she will not be in the same class as us. She was sick that day. Quite cruel, I must say. So how la? Tak tau lah confirm ke tak. I find it rather...different if she won't be sitting with me anymore. Who else am I going to tell practically everything to? Somehow it's easier with Tia. I can tell her all about my plans and she would take them as seriously as I would. Unlike Mely, haha. Mely laughs at everything for some reason. She's like Sab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia : Aku rasa aku dah tau dah aku nak kerja apa masa aku besar nanti.&lt;br /&gt;Me : Apa?&lt;br /&gt;Tia : Aku nak jadi writer. Journalist. Tak kesah lah dalam BM ke BI ke tapi aku rasa aku nak menulis.&lt;br /&gt;Me : Aku pun dowh. Kau tau tak...kau tak rasa ke nama Zulaikha Mohamad tu macam sesuai gila jadi author? Haha!&lt;br /&gt;Tia : Hahahaha. A'ah, aku pun rasa.&lt;br /&gt;Me : Kalau aku nak jadi penyanyi, macam tak kena je nama aku. Tapi, jadi writer...bapak gempak ah. Macam ditakdirkan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. Maaf. Aku suka nama aku. Things like this, I have to tell Tia first before anyone else. Aku rasa dia dah tau full plan aku dah. Aku nak kerja apa, kat mana, plan aku minggu ni, weekend, esok. Bukanlah plan macam nak keluar jalan-jalan. My infinite plans for my future. For me to become a better person. The best that I can be. Who else am I going to tell all this if she's not sitting next to me? Yeah, I don't know either. I write way too much stuff on being more open-minded and positive and such on my blog. And it sounds lame, at times. But Tia will respect my views and thoughts on life, because, I think, we are too like-minded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that if anything is going to happen, it will be for the best. That's my trust in God. This year has been a challenging one, in every aspect I can think of - spiritually, personally, academically, socially. This year was tougher and I was struggling quite a bit. I was down more times than the previous year. But I guess it changed me - my perspective, I mean. Usually, that's all it really is. Perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am completely grateful for what has happened, and what it has taught me. Before I start laughing at myself for being so philosophical, I'll just end things here. Good year. When will I ever learn to shorten the length of my posts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4498471413404988567?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4498471413404988567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4498471413404988567&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4498471413404988567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4498471413404988567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/perspective.html' title='Perspective.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-986243183719472942</id><published>2010-11-08T01:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T19:33:30.168+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Off and Odd.</title><content type='html'>Hello, November. It's sort of, like, the second week of November, correct?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite a long time with no posts. Quite a lot has happened. We are finally free from the final exam, and hooray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promised myself I'd write about me going to the Paramore concert here last month. I will, under the title 'Surreal'. The perfect word describing how I felt. I'm gonna have to get some photos and probably a video from Izni. I went with her and her friends, Azirah and Haikal. I will write about the whole thing. It's probably going to be super duper long. But I just have to do it! I'm going to cheat and change the post's date to somewhere in October.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a great but weird but partially sad week last week. Haha. Anyone understand? Weirdest week yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me parents went off for Haj. And I've got lots of plans for bettering myself at some things this school holiday. Well, let's just see if it all works out. Oh, this Saturday we're going to watch an orchestra! Haha. I'm pretty excited. I've never seen an orchestra perform before, so this will be a first. I'd like to post something on that next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week and also throughout the exam, Mely has gotten closer to Ezra. When she first came back to semerbak, she was still adjusting. I've been telling Ezra about Mely all wayyyy until she came back here. Well, I keep talking to Mely and then to Ezra, they are bound to talk to each other right? Haha. Ever since Mely came back, I've been laughing my laugh-and-cry laugh. It's odd. If it's with Tia then it's the head-to-desk laugh. I'm glad they're good friends now, I have been laughing too much. Geez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched You Again with Kak Long and Kak Ngah. Bila eh? Jumaat eh? Haha. Not a boring moment at all. It was fun and I liked all the female leads. I recommend it for a girl's night out! Even boys can see it, sure. It was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fara came by last Saturday. Oh, I'm back at my house btw. Have I made that clear? Haha. She wanted to lepak since it's been a long time. It's that code for 'mending anything broken' here? :P It was pleasant. As usual, she would keep me updated with what she's currently into. In this case, Maid Sama. The hero is handsome, I must say. Brings me back to some Slam Dunk days. Handsome kan yang rambut hitam tu apetah nama dia kan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two episodes left before completing Ugly Betty. Been nice watching the latest seasons of Desperate Housewives, How I Met Your Mother and Glee. What else? I wanna have a Gossip Girl marathon! Sheesh. Lagi clear tau download and cucuk kat TV daripada tengok kat 8TV. And sangatlah menyerlah kehenseman Chuck Bass. Wah. Nate pun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to read again. I recently got the latest Andrew Auseon book. I read his, I think, first book, &lt;i&gt;Funny Little Monkey&lt;/i&gt;, and thought it was interesting. Now, I got his &lt;i&gt;Freak Magnet &lt;/i&gt;book. I've read the first two chapters. I adore his way of explaining the minds of young people and how oddly impulsive they are at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TNbj4kiW8TI/AAAAAAAAASc/ujd4en0pWz0/s1600/FreakMagnet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TNbj4kiW8TI/AAAAAAAAASc/ujd4en0pWz0/s200/FreakMagnet.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TNbj6aURtBI/AAAAAAAAASg/ozYb5GTGOjI/s1600/Photo0228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TNbj6aURtBI/AAAAAAAAASg/ozYb5GTGOjI/s200/Photo0228.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, those are his books. I took the pics through my phone. Time for a more decent camera phone eh? Tell my parents that. Haha. I think his stories are odd. Weird. But interesting. They're not bestsellers, not that I know of. They're different. Keeps an open mind. Ciao. I'm trying to stay positive here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-986243183719472942?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/986243183719472942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=986243183719472942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/986243183719472942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/986243183719472942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/11/off-and-odd.html' title='Off and Odd.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TNbj4kiW8TI/AAAAAAAAASc/ujd4en0pWz0/s72-c/FreakMagnet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4768297415184498693</id><published>2010-10-18T17:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T17:11:43.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stoked.</title><content type='html'>I'm stoked. Super duper quadruple stoked, actually. For tomorrow. EEYAY!&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'm going to the Paramore concert. I already got my ticket.&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, all goes well tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="250" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u26nMcjYWfA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u26nMcjYWfA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping for this kind of intro. This is from the concert in Melbourne last week or so. I'm pretty confident they're gonna do this intro. I can't wait to see all of them. I like all of them. I wanna see Zac with his moustache and Jeremy with his beard. Hayley and her now again red hair. She's probably gonna be just adorable. Josh and Taylor wajib okay. Hensem gila Taylor. Wee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how stoked I am? Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Challenge for me - this month, all my blog titles start with 'S'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything's gonna be great tomorrow. Hopefully. Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4768297415184498693?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4768297415184498693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4768297415184498693&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4768297415184498693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4768297415184498693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/10/stoked.html' title='Stoked.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-2503522863093178492</id><published>2010-10-16T02:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T02:06:32.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Swagger.</title><content type='html'>I'm listening to 'Hell No' right now. The kind of song I'll instantly &lt;strike&gt;like&lt;/strike&gt; love. Clean, smooth and silky. It's like I'm describing a fabric or maybe even some kind of lotion when I'm actually describing a song. Plus, Sondre Lerche and Regina Spektor's voices. Mm, one perfect duet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think if I were to choose what type of music I would like to create, this song is a perfect example. I listen to John Mayer and Paramore a heck of a lot, they're my favourite. But when it comes to singing, I find my voice more suitable singing jazzy stuff. Actually, I'm not even that sure. Haha. I do think I got enough swagger in my voice to do jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously love jazz. It's got a certain swagger, a certain groove that hits a certain area of my brain and soul. It's funny of me to say &lt;i&gt;soul&lt;/i&gt; but it's true, I got soul for jazz. Jazz is sort of easy, very light and easy to accept. It's simply &lt;i&gt;nice&lt;/i&gt;. It helps me unwind. Forgetting my worries, rather than complaining about something I'm unhappy about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also admire some singers. The soulful ones, if I may say. Have you ever heard Alicia Keys, James Morrison and Danny O'Donoghue from The Script sing? They sure sing with soul. You can actually feel what they're singing. I'm not saying other singers don't sing with soul too. Maybe I'm just into singers with a husky, harsh edge to their voices. Absolute yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, tolonglah dengar album The Script. Ish, betapa feeling-nya dia nyanyi. Haha. I've been told that my singing voice has that harsh edge. One word I've heard countless times describing how I sing - 'bergema'. My singing voice is very different from the voice I talk in. It's automatic. Even I can't comprehend how that happens. I sooo can't sing in my normal voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know lah. I see people around my age singing in a different way than I do. I mean, cuba tengok Miranda Cosgrove, Demi Lovato and people like that. They're singing - super clean and clear pronunciation. Aku tak gemar. It's too damn clean for me. None of those rough edges, no sort of accent. To me, it lacks personality. Lacks swagger. Lacks groove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm not that great of a singer, but kalau so-called professionals nyanyi, I only admire those that suit to my liking. Those with attitude. Ka-Pow! I don't hate those clean pop singers, heck I like their songs. I just prefer the ones I just described. Got X-factor, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be frank, I don't know why in the world I'm talking about this here.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for wasting your precious time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-2503522863093178492?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/2503522863093178492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=2503522863093178492&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2503522863093178492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/2503522863093178492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/10/swagger.html' title='Swagger.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7118937578145560071</id><published>2010-09-26T00:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T00:18:34.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why don't you say so?</title><content type='html'>Banyak gila kan cerita pasal beraya tu? Aku sendiri pun menyampah tengok! Haha. Mood raya pun dah nak reda, tukar lagu raya to 'Edge of Desire.' They only got the acoustic version on YouTube though, the studio version one at the site ain't &lt;b&gt;exactly exactly&lt;/b&gt; the same as in the CD :( My favourite line to sing is, "There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me." It's just so honest and straight-forward and I think the music is incredible. It suits the lyrics very well. That's why I love John Mayer songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just now at school, sang to Mira and Tia my favourite lines from 'Friends, Lovers or Nothing' which are, "Anything other than yes is no, anything other than stay is go, anything less than 'I love you' is lying." The way I interpret it, it means that if you don't ever have the absolute confidence to say yes or ask the person to stay, it means you're basically saying no and asking the person to leave. And if you've never felt like saying 'I love you' expresses the way you feel towards someone, then you're lying to yourself if you say you care for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that made sense. Haha. Sekarang baru tahu kenapa Zulaikha Mohamad dengar lagu okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we had four Chemistry classes this week! Ya Allah, punya lah banyak. We have Chemistry on Wednesdays and Fridays. But on Thursday, cikgu asked us to join in the lab since our Sejarah teacher was absent at that time. And today, we had a class too, since today ganti cuti raya and ikut Friday schedule. Thus, four Chemistry classes. Damn, serious lah banyak. All about Acids and Bases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, here are my favourite candid pictures of Mely and Alya. They're the only ones I have favourite candid pictures of. Comel lah. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TJ4cq0NjYaI/AAAAAAAAASU/6_tM0qnRPbY/s400/PA040538.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me, Mely and Masho on the 1st day of PMR.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TJ4cq0NjYaI/AAAAAAAAASU/6_tM0qnRPbY/s1600/PA040538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TJ4cxROQpII/AAAAAAAAASY/U1PxWUqoC24/s400/DSC02823.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Alya at last day of school 2009.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TJ4cxROQpII/AAAAAAAAASY/U1PxWUqoC24/s1600/DSC02823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Imma go now. P/s: Paramore in a month :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7118937578145560071?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7118937578145560071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7118937578145560071&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7118937578145560071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7118937578145560071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/09/why-dont-you-say-so.html' title='Why don&apos;t you say so?'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4BIpi8ZsNkY/TJ4cq0NjYaI/AAAAAAAAASU/6_tM0qnRPbY/s72-c/PA040538.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-5637459391148606073</id><published>2010-09-21T02:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T02:22:55.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Raya 3.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyways, all three of 'em followed us to  Arina's afterwards. Dengan Arina confirm-confirm lah joke tahpape keluar  kan? Haha. Dia goreng keropok Terengganu untuk kitorang. I didn't eat  much but Mira and Mely couldn't stop! Lama-lama Jemah pulak rasa gatal  nak makan lagi. Cuppy was so funny, since her house was near she said  she would bring the keropok home and bring back the bekas the next day.  Haha. The way she said it was so cool xD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Mira punya keropok terpatah or whatever in  the chili sauce bowl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Mira: Eh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Arina:  E'eh, Mira. Rendam-rendam pulak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Always the unexpected lah what Arina's going  to say. It's too unusual, dari mana lah dia dapat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, boleh pulak mak Arina tanya if I'm Kelantanese. Aku dahlah struggle je kalau dengar orang cakap Kelantan, tak paham lah. Otak ni lambat pick up. I have a problem where if I don't usually talk to a person I usually won't get what they're saying. Apetah lagi in Kelantanese! Oh, the horror -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was already 4 o'clock then.Wow. Lama gila dak beraya? But we still got two houses left. So goodbye to Jemah and Arina. Our original 4-person clan went to Nada's after that. Punyalah tak pernah pergi rumah Nada, aku tak tau la kat mana. Mira guided us. In front of the gate, Mira had a call. So, she can't talk to us for a while, and just pointed at the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mely &amp;amp; Wana tak mau tanya if it was the right house. So aku jela harapannya. Diorang kan selalu jatuh maruah, malas nak jatuh lagi lah tu. Haha. Many people were on the porch. Mana tak malunya.&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Me: Assalamualaikum. Nada ada?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Random guy: Nada? Err. Jap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;*boleh tahan lama, tapi this random guy still dunno who Nada is. HAHA*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Me: Ada tak?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Random guy: Err, cari siapa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Me: Nada. *mak ai geramnya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Random guy: Umm, ni rumah Cikgu _____ . (I can't remember the name, but it was Nada's mom's name, manalah aku nak tau, haha)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Me: *pandang Mira* Err, Mira. Nada anak cikgu ke?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira yang masih pegang phone tengah calling mengerut dahinya and geleng kepalanya dengan penuh semangat. I pandang balik the random guy, and said "Jap." I called Tia just to ask if Nada was an anak cikgu or not! Haha. It turns out she is. Ey, Mira, get your facts right lah. I swore we were in front of the gate for 15 minutes or even more. What a waste of time. Haha. Turns out the random guy is Nada's brother's friend. Eh, guy, boleh tak tolong carikan tuan rumah untuk aku? Buang masa aku lak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people were in the house. Nada was busy inside with all the madness so manalah nak tau we were outside kan. Dayana ada, dia pergi serbu peluk aku pulak. Terkejut aku. Haha. Didn't stay there for long. It was getting late so we stopped by Tia's grandma's house without Mira before heading home. Uhh! Balik rumah terus paralysed hah. Serius tak rasa sangat kaki. Penat betul ulang-alik 9 buah rumah jalan kaki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a good great raya day. Never made a day long trip to raya at friends' houses. It was completely adventurous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-5637459391148606073?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/5637459391148606073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=5637459391148606073&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5637459391148606073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/5637459391148606073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/09/friday-raya-3.html' title='Friday Raya 3.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-250950565007520511</id><published>2010-09-21T01:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T02:23:25.581+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Raya 2.</title><content type='html'>Went to Jemah's after that. I missed Jemah! Haha. Kitorang tak jumpa seminggu dah rindu dah and she always remembers me. I appreciate that. She's so nice to me, sometimes I feel a little unworthy of her. I try to do the same for her too. Like she told me, her mother made nasi impit dengan kuah kacang. I was just focusing on that so I can't remember what else her mom made! Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so thankful the kuah kacang her mother made wasn't pedas at all. Don't get me wrong, I love spicy food. I just can't handle it all that much. Sucker. My nose will be running and tears are produced. It's just tragic. At Alya's, I ate the same thing but spice lah pulak. Tak macho ah aku makan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Jemah's, and &lt;i&gt;before&lt;/i&gt; Alya's, we went to Jiha's. Jemah ikut sekali. She was getting ready for tuition though. Yummy keropok lekor and hot tea were served. Funny thing is, tengok THS Britney Spears! Haha. Tak de keje. The volume wasn't so high jadi tak dengar sangat and Mely read the subtitles. Haha. She said, "Eh kesian 'mereka mengekorinya'!", referring to the paparazzi chasing over Britney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, baru pergi rumah Alya. Haha. Comel dia pakai favourite colour dia :) When we were there, jumpa Arina, Zara, Mesir and Humaizah so ramai-ramailah bergambar. For reference, please check Facebook ;) Lama jugak semua berbual. Macam-macam, merepek and all. Gambar tu memang banyaklah jugak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alya suruh makan pinggan penuh. I put 4 nasi impits at the corners of my place and one in the middle, plus the kuah kacang. Thus, a full plate! Got picture here. Of course I showed her my Talking Tom too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs630.snc4/59022_151424204888620_100000631235365_310279_4298675_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs630.snc4/59022_151424204888620_100000631235365_310279_4298675_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;With Mely, raya at Alya's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;We went to Cuppy's after that. Aku lah kan sibuk sangat nak raya kat rumah dia. Plus, it's otw to Arina's house so singgah jela. I saw these black gladiator-y high heels thingy, I swore I knew they were Shhra's almost immediately. Haha. Bat was there too. Cuppy ni bagi duit raya tak bersampul. Haha. &lt;/span&gt;The sampul is not nearly as important as the duit raya so it's okay :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-250950565007520511?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/250950565007520511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=250950565007520511&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/250950565007520511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/250950565007520511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/09/friday-raya-2.html' title='Friday Raya 2.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4685719093611199146</id><published>2010-09-21T01:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T22:00:41.759+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Raya 1.</title><content type='html'>Last Friday, I went raya-ing with friends to some other friends' houses. Mely, Wana, Mira and I succeeded crashing a total of 9 houses that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met up at Mely's place before heading off. While I was in the car on my way, Mira called me wanting to join us. I didn't know she really knew or that I had invited her. I just told her I was going to Samudra on Friday. Did she think that was an invitation? :) Haha. Okay, kidding, Mira. I probably had more fun because you were there :') As expected, Mira was late. I sempat ketip kuku lagi and tengok The Incredibles sikit dengan Mely. Got to see her new room. Her house isn't fully finished yet, just like mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was drizzling outside when we went off. In all panicness, we decided to crash Shu's place. Haha! It was hilarious, but we were so bummed about the rain. Shu baru lepas mandi masa tu and she served us hot tea. Some kuih raya too. Dia pun terkejut tengok kitorang tiba-tiba datang. Haha. Sorry we had to crash in, Shu, we were desperate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mely left her umbrella sometime ago at Shu's house so she took it back and Shu lent us one more umbrella. The funny thing is, Mely later left her umbrella at someone else's house, she thinks it was Alya's. Apa-apa jela eh, Mely. It was still raining when got out of Shu's. Tapi dah macam lambat sangat kalau tunggu, keluar jela dulu. Kitorang siap dapat duit raya lagi! Haha. Nice crashing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to Samudra which was so far away since we walked. Aduh. I've walked to Samudra before quite a number of times already from my house so I already expected how tired we would be by the end of the day. On the way nak pergi tu ada seekor anjing. It looked like it was heading our way but thank God it took a turn away from us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to raya Fara's house first since she had to go raya somewhere else pulak after sembahyang Jumaat. Tried out the raya cookies she made. Really sedap actually. Her hair's gotten longer. Of course I wouldn't know because I don't talk to her as often. Sometimes, I do miss her and Alya. I can't bring myself to tell them though. It sounds so serious. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I don't like it when people talk or mention about them just because terasa terhina pulak tak tau what they do these days. Don't know a thing. Mana tau tiba-tiba dah jadi kaki clubbing ke apa kan? Haha! I know that would never happen ever but don't tell me it ain't funny thinking about it xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough off-topicking. Kitorang sempat tengok cerita Pak Nil apetah. Kelakar lah. Haha. Mira, if you're reading this - chotey! Okay, or think about the toothbrush. Whichever. I showed Fara my Talking Tom app on my iPod since her cat's name is Tom. It's a female btw, and baru beranak! All cute fluffy wuffy kitties galore :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4685719093611199146?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4685719093611199146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4685719093611199146&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4685719093611199146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4685719093611199146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/09/friday-raya-1.html' title='Friday Raya 1.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-4330819192054395771</id><published>2010-09-16T23:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T23:40:22.375+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Khrrr!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs659.snc4/59907_159593034050819_100000003703186_509798_8344468_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs659.snc4/59907_159593034050819_100000003703186_509798_8344468_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me, Azri, Tia and Mira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Brain-washed after watching that movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We &lt;b&gt;are&lt;/b&gt; the residents of evil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-4330819192054395771?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/4330819192054395771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=4330819192054395771&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4330819192054395771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/4330819192054395771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/09/khrrr.html' title='Khrrr!'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-8169642913805261902</id><published>2010-09-07T18:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T18:18:50.538+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mood raya sudah.</title><content type='html'>Okay, hasrat nak buat long post tak tercapai. Dah ada ilham, dah tau exactly what to write. Tapi macam memakan masa sikit and mood raya bagai, tak ada mood menulis pasal benda lain. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku nak bagitau sikit ni - aku pandai. Kenapa? Sebab aku letak lagu raya kat blog! Haha. Okay, siapa lagi letak lagu raya kat blog? Haa. Tengok. Kecohkah tidak kecoh itu? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lagu raya yang Saloma nyanyi ni yang aku hafal. Paling rasa macam raya dengar lagu ni. And siapa yang tengok TV3 masa raya confirm-confirm lah keluar lagu ni masa iklan. Even NTV7 pun kot. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, baju raya dah ada. Selendang raya dah ada. And kasut raya dah ada. Complete haa. Tunggu pergi Kuala Lipis je. I hope ada ikan patin masak tempoyak and sambal itam. Wan Tam, tolonglah jangan buat pedas sangat. Adeh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-8169642913805261902?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/8169642913805261902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=8169642913805261902&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8169642913805261902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/8169642913805261902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/09/mood-raya-sudah.html' title='Mood raya sudah.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3649712701782698072.post-7810621262114035017</id><published>2010-09-01T22:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T22:21:32.932+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hyped.</title><content type='html'>I'm thinking of having another long post. But since I don't have the time today, maybe in a couple of days. When aren't my posts long? Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's already September and I feel so weird about 2010 being closer to ending. I mean, tak sangka kan dah nak habis tahun ni? Aku rasa macam tak buat apa sangat je. Tapi, I learned so damn much this year. I'm serious. I'm thankful that I've got to learn those lessons, though the hard way, but I'm on my way to being a better person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently hyped. I'm hyped on raya, though awfully sad Ramadhan's coming to an end :( I'm hyped on my new CD. I'm hyped on my new t-shirt. And I'm so hyped on Paramore. I might jinx it so I'm not telling you why. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Happy September, kids. I'm really hoping we won't waste it all away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3649712701782698072-7810621262114035017?l=zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/feeds/7810621262114035017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3649712701782698072&amp;postID=7810621262114035017&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7810621262114035017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3649712701782698072/posts/default/7810621262114035017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zulaikhamohamad.blogspot.com/2010/09/hyped.html' title='Hyped.'/><author><name>Zulaikha M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02616769229192250203</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwtBvwMtbvc/TwPZnPXTctI/AAAAAAAAAfE/pP37fGKUz3E/s220/yup.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
