<?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-6089712890504884678</id><updated>2012-02-16T23:17:54.390+06:00</updated><title type='text'>fracture my porcelain body</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>406</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2803924570635430198</id><published>2012-02-16T21:44:00.006+06:00</published><updated>2012-02-16T23:17:54.480+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectations that kill.</title><content type='html'>So Valentine's Day is finally over. :) I must say it's entertaining to see Valentine's photos and status updates on my newsfeed. Some, showing off what their partners had in store for them, while a handful ranting about not receiving anything from their partners. And of course, not forgetting the remaining few, whining about how 'forever alone' they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, I had friends grumbling to me about not receiving any presents from their partners. I am not on anyone's side but as a girl myself, I tend to expect a lot from the boyfriend. And as much as you have your girls telling you not to set any expectations, you ignored them all instead. For this, I am so glad the boyfriend and I decided not to make a big huha on this very day cause who knows, if we did, I might be one of those girls grumbling about disappoinment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, are girls to be blamed? I'm afraid that's a definite no. For one reason, these boys used to, and I literally mean USED TO go all out to impress us girls. Rewind your memory, go back to the very first date you had with your boyfriend. He'd surprise you with flowers, dinner at posh restaurants, and even splurge on you on their very last bits of money. He would go all out to win your heart, even to the extent of folding hundreds of paper hearts. Three years down the road, reality check. None of this at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He won your heart but ooops, you got tricked instead. The boy who you think is really really sweet and would fold paper hearts for you is not who you think he is. He is just a boy, like any other Tom, Dick and Harry out there who make mistakes, tries so hard to be perfect but instead, creates more mess. You get really upset and mad because he just doesn't do what he used to do. That extra effort he used to put in to make you feel special and now that it has been years, the boy just forgets that you still need to be showered with love, care and concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The painful truth is, we girls expect too much from our boyfriends. I do that alot too and trust me, it is really unhealthy. I'd be lying if I say my relationship is perfect. We've been through hell but thank god, we made it through. I must say I've been disappointed in the boyfriend a million times. I have myself to blame because I expected too much. But sympathy on my part, you have no idea how my boy can be so ignorant at times that you literally feel like killing him. But reliving those memories again, it made me smile because it's his flaws that make him special. Despite those flaws that he possesses, he still makes an AMAZING boyfriend. :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, I guess we got to constantly remind ourselves that there is no such thing as perfection. Humans can never ever be sweet and perfect all the time you know. So, slow down on your expectations. No one is perfect. My boyfriend is not perfect, I don't think I am perfect for him too and that's sad. :( But that aside, I guess it's really crucial that we accept each others' flaws and most importantly, accept the fact that his world doesn't revolve around you. A little bit too harsh but accept it, that's the only way to prevent yourself from the disappointment. This is a reminder to me too cause at times, I tend to forget that my boyfriend has a life and is human afterall. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is too short to be unhappy. Treasure those moments and make the best out of everything! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2803924570635430198?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2803924570635430198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2803924570635430198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/02/expectations-that-kill.html' title='Expectations that kill.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6431558498046396195</id><published>2012-02-08T20:48:00.010+06:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T22:09:16.369+06:00</updated><title type='text'>A-may-zing weekend.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;It's been so long since I had a proper weekend date with the boyfriend. Considering the fact that we're always out with the family almost every weekend. So, it did felt extremely good to have the two days to ourselves. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I've been dying to spend the weekend in Sentosa. Initial plan was to beach and all, but both of us are just not the morning type. We overslept and had to ditch the idea of beach-ing. So, thank god for Sentosa Flowers, we had a great day after all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I must confess the flowers are all so pretty and it was sad enough I did not have my camera with me. Dad brought it to Germany with him and I was left with my iphone camera which of course, doesn't deliver the quality. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvW82g58vnU/TzKP7CvYDuI/AAAAAAAADlA/8Lq2SwGZ7r4/s1600/407098_10150531991864775_739419774_9245395_2032160033_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706781922342473442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvW82g58vnU/TzKP7CvYDuI/AAAAAAAADlA/8Lq2SwGZ7r4/s320/407098_10150531991864775_739419774_9245395_2032160033_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;One of the many shots I took. It is all so pretty I couldn't decide which to upload. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-anAeZhwplos/TzKPlE3s4wI/AAAAAAAADk0/H38DSZ29dfE/s1600/409329_10150532018324775_739419774_9245459_934005452_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706781544957141762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-anAeZhwplos/TzKPlE3s4wI/AAAAAAAADk0/H38DSZ29dfE/s320/409329_10150532018324775_739419774_9245459_934005452_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My nose looks exceptionally big in here. Moving on...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nVQDu80_JLk/TzKPW4cBkYI/AAAAAAAADko/QuBef6bYRJI/s1600/430992_10150532010289775_739419774_9245438_65913507_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706781301101662594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nVQDu80_JLk/TzKPW4cBkYI/AAAAAAAADko/QuBef6bYRJI/s320/430992_10150532010289775_739419774_9245438_65913507_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Here's the boy goofing around. It's funny how much he loves taking photos more than I do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I hate posing for cameras, I feel stupid. I really adore girls who potray so much of confidence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;in their pictures. I'm different, I just can't deliver them well. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RG9CBn84XYk/TzKQSYfVx3I/AAAAAAAADlM/KmqKoAoy3aE/s1600/424682_10150532040654775_739419774_9245525_1833514529_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706782323317786482" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RG9CBn84XYk/TzKQSYfVx3I/AAAAAAAADlM/KmqKoAoy3aE/s320/424682_10150532040654775_739419774_9245525_1833514529_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;We finally got a decent picture of us. We'd always find ourselves ranting after our picture was taken because somehow, we'd always end up asking someone with very poor camera skills to snap a picture of us. And the most we could do is to give a big smile and say thank you though the picture, was really.....really..bad. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PyNjBj1BrY8/TzKOZ_coFDI/AAAAAAAADkQ/Yhxo1U1rCnY/s1600/398449_10150532054794775_739419774_9245562_2145606703_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706780255011214386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PyNjBj1BrY8/TzKOZ_coFDI/AAAAAAAADkQ/Yhxo1U1rCnY/s320/398449_10150532054794775_739419774_9245562_2145606703_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I got excited over this. Such sweet thing. The queue was really long and by the time it was our turn, the sun had set. Sadly, my iphone camera did not do me any justice. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Since there was nothing else to do, or rather nothing else that we could think of, we decided to luge and skyride. :) The boyfriend and I have always wanted to do extreme things, like bungee jumping, stuff like that. I think I disappointed him when I changed my mind. The skyride was already hard enough for me to handle. I'm really really really terrified of heights. Poor boy, his hopes and dreams were crushed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;We ended the night sitting by the beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fireworks from the Song of the Sea. Eventually, we did, twice. :) It was great, a perfect night to be precise. Just us two, assuring each other that our love has never changed since the past 2 years plus we've been together. Indeed, it narrowed our gap. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;At times, we're too comfortable with each other we forgot the littlest things that make them smile. It's refreshing to have some time alone, to remember all those beautiful times and bring them back to life again. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Sunday was no different. My little sister had her band perfomance for the River Hongbao. I was exhilirated because I've always wanted to go but the boyfriend just didn't want to. :( I probably forgot to mention that my boyfriend is not a fan of crowded places. I really should thank my sister, else I would not be able to go! I felt sorry for the boyfriend though. Haha. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ffAGBVJAg8A/TzKRkv1KpWI/AAAAAAAADlY/CVt17R7hKyg/s1600/IMG_0597.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706783738332620130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ffAGBVJAg8A/TzKRkv1KpWI/AAAAAAAADlY/CVt17R7hKyg/s320/IMG_0597.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright, done with the post. :) Weekend is only two nights away! :DD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6431558498046396195?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6431558498046396195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6431558498046396195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/02/may-zing-weekend.html' title='A-may-zing weekend.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvW82g58vnU/TzKP7CvYDuI/AAAAAAAADlA/8Lq2SwGZ7r4/s72-c/407098_10150531991864775_739419774_9245395_2032160033_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3077286880787993505</id><published>2012-01-26T21:29:00.005+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T01:00:34.099+06:00</updated><title type='text'>The X says it all</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I rummaged in his room for the 'forgotten treasure'. There it was, placed perfectly by the side of his bed. For the years I've been with him, I knew it was there. I've been procrastinating to open the box but curiosity kills me everytime I laid my eyes on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For I know I need a lot of courage to see what's inside and to console myself that the treasures are his past. As I opened the lid of the box, letters, cards, gift wrappers all arranged neatly leaving little space for any other gifts. It was hard but I did it anyway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I plucked up courage and one by one, I took them out. Specks of dust on each letters and gifts just proves he hasn't touched it for centuries. There beside me, my boyfriend assuring me it is me that he loves. He knew I'd inflict myself with pain with every letter and cards that I read. I reassured him that I was able to take it, even if it was painful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I read the letters of confession, the beautifully handwritten pieces of cards and self-made poems to him aloud. Their monthsaries, anniversaries, the photos they took together, and the very tiny little movie tickets, sweet wrappers that he kept in memory of her; his ex-girlfriend. Oh how it hurts, who am I lying? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He knew I was hurting, probably saw it through my eyes and my tone of voice as I read those letters, one by one. I stood strong trying hard to hold back the tears, making jokes about the gifts to cover up the grief I had caused myself. I probably regretted because I knew, I am not as great as her. I suck at drawing, I hate making cards, I can take a month and never come out with amazing love poems and the letters I wrote to my boyfriend, they were not as good as hers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As much as I was heartbroken, I brushed it all off. If you girls are thinking of what I just did, please don't. Pain like that, not worthy just because you'll start comparing. I did. He kept their movie tickets, doesn't even keep mine. He kept her sweet wrapper, but threw mine. He made her cards, but I didn't receive any. They celebrated their monthsaries, but I have few memories of mine despite the 2 years plus we've been together. The list goes on. You probably think I should have listened to him and put them all away, left untouched. I'm glad I took them out, though it was painful, but now I know where I stand, how far he'd go for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Don't get me wrong. My boyfriend makes an amazing boyfriend and amongst my ex-es, he is the best. But hey, we can't be petty and got to understand that as we grow with time, we get really busy and making cards, letters, probably a waste of time. (Though I find boys making time to make pretty cards for their girlfriends really cute because really, how many actually does that? Those boys, deserve an 'A' for effort.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And as for me, I don't think I'd show all my past treasures to my dear boyfriend. It hurts like hell and I wouldn't want him to feel insecure, like I did. I totally do not mind him keeping those because I have my treasures too. No way am I throwing those because, once upon a time, they were the ones who carved a smile on my face. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Keep the memories, let go of the feelings and look to the future. God bless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3077286880787993505?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3077286880787993505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3077286880787993505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/x-says-it-all.html' title='The X says it all'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8013112148769598550</id><published>2012-01-25T22:07:00.006+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T23:05:21.217+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another moment of blunder</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I broke your heart and all I could ever say was sorry. Cooped up in my room, wild thoughts running through my mind. The fear of you growing tired of my mistakes then leave me if someone better comes along. So many what ifs that can literally drive me crazy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Fairytales never exist but I'm thankful to have fallen in love with you. You're the only one whose love is so surreal. You kept your promise when you said you'd never leave. Thank you. I don't make promises but believe me, there's no room for anyone else in this tiny heart of mine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I don't want to destroy what we share all these years. I thought it's best I leave but I know it's not easy to stay away. Just for a moment, look into my eyes and trust me. If you only knew what I'm willing to give. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I love you dearly. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8013112148769598550?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8013112148769598550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8013112148769598550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/another-moment-of-blunder.html' title='Another moment of blunder'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6235275330357619177</id><published>2012-01-24T23:06:00.006+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T23:30:31.633+06:00</updated><title type='text'>I have found him.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eH-KwSTRbQ8/Tx7m1tWB9sI/AAAAAAAADkE/vOnG8UWH5fk/s1600/270829_10150237560624775_739419774_7600957_6038035_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701247988677080770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eH-KwSTRbQ8/Tx7m1tWB9sI/AAAAAAAADkE/vOnG8UWH5fk/s320/270829_10150237560624775_739419774_7600957_6038035_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Have you ever loved somebody so much it makes you cry?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Have you ever tell yourself it's dangerous to fall so deep in love?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We all have and we still take the risk. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6235275330357619177?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6235275330357619177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6235275330357619177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/you-are-real.html' title='I have found him.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eH-KwSTRbQ8/Tx7m1tWB9sI/AAAAAAAADkE/vOnG8UWH5fk/s72-c/270829_10150237560624775_739419774_7600957_6038035_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8069683187828643066</id><published>2012-01-15T23:34:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T01:04:41.679+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kept in the dark</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Have you ever felt like you're wandering aimlessly? And you let your mind floats by, waiting for something amazing to happen? You counted down the days, the months but nothing great actually happens. Sad to say, that's me now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I feel as though I'm stuck in a pool of mud, my movements restricted, hoping someone to rescue me but no one really came along. And the worst things of all, the person you think would understand you, doesn't. He just doesn't get it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sometimes I forget that my happiness does not depend on you. I need to constantly remind myself that fairytales never ever existed and that life and relationships are fragile. I need to do something with this life. I keep wanting to make something happen and I think it's time. Wait and see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8069683187828643066?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8069683187828643066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8069683187828643066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/kept-in-dark.html' title='Kept in the dark'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-594105653905100655</id><published>2012-01-14T23:22:00.012+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T01:00:02.498+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Brighter than sunshine</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I had my happy pills on such a beautiful Saturday. Seeing John and Chantelle was enough to lift my spirits up. Speaking of which, I'm hyped up about our next meeting already! :D &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Despite the scorching sun, we were pretty determined to carry on with picnic. I'm so glad we did because we had an amazing time. And of course, at such a pretty setting like this, having heart to heart talks are the best. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697923836801774642" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NCUGCZv4jQc/TxMXimnM9DI/AAAAAAAADj4/RKc0IaeEZG8/s320/407739_10150501127969775_739419774_9146816_739871513_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VwbNxRmqsGY/TxMXIfa2wKI/AAAAAAAADjs/-aLUMcBLNO4/s1600/380463_10150501147064775_739419774_9146878_833944829_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697923388194341026" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VwbNxRmqsGY/TxMXIfa2wKI/AAAAAAAADjs/-aLUMcBLNO4/s320/380463_10150501147064775_739419774_9146878_833944829_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wsxaCvckWNc/TxMW41TNqLI/AAAAAAAADjg/if3tTkgUR0Y/s1600/386426_10150501160784775_739419774_9146923_1269952769_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697923119189960882" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wsxaCvckWNc/TxMW41TNqLI/AAAAAAAADjg/if3tTkgUR0Y/s320/386426_10150501160784775_739419774_9146923_1269952769_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-09pbHRWC0uE/TxMWxDPOb2I/AAAAAAAADjU/PN8yQdt6bkQ/s1600/381763_10150501103914775_739419774_9146718_169497108_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697922985492377442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-09pbHRWC0uE/TxMWxDPOb2I/AAAAAAAADjU/PN8yQdt6bkQ/s320/381763_10150501103914775_739419774_9146718_169497108_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I love these two dearies here a lot! Been close since our poly years and we have been stronger ever since. :) But of course, we still have our small little bickerings here and there, but at the end of the day, we know we can't live without each other. &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the later part of the day, met the family for dinner. A great ending to a perfect Saturday. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ApbJAiyGWhc/TxMWYxIdeYI/AAAAAAAADjI/u1gF_tZJDoQ/s1600/393892_10150501215099775_739419774_9147034_2051610550_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697922568315304322" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ApbJAiyGWhc/TxMWYxIdeYI/AAAAAAAADjI/u1gF_tZJDoQ/s320/393892_10150501215099775_739419774_9147034_2051610550_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My pillar of strength. Honestly speaking, I wouldn't have gone this far without them. They have done so much for me and I really can't wait to start work just so I can repay their deeds though I know it'd never be enough. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-popeRfHsw6k/TxMWM5gryDI/AAAAAAAADi8/3B-fPkxEe0g/s1600/395111_10150501213954775_739419774_9147030_1335265075_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697922364405958706" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-popeRfHsw6k/TxMWM5gryDI/AAAAAAAADi8/3B-fPkxEe0g/s320/395111_10150501213954775_739419774_9147030_1335265075_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f_loYd0OXb4/TxMV5S7R-SI/AAAAAAAADiw/JbnEVdeR-00/s1600/405234_10150501206259775_739419774_9147005_2112200619_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697922027631016226" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f_loYd0OXb4/TxMV5S7R-SI/AAAAAAAADiw/JbnEVdeR-00/s320/405234_10150501206259775_739419774_9147005_2112200619_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vKjv5CPWTCo/TxMVhXfoG9I/AAAAAAAADiY/xkOYbMnX3Ro/s1600/405224_10150501232209775_739419774_9147071_856246395_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697921616540343250" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vKjv5CPWTCo/TxMVhXfoG9I/AAAAAAAADiY/xkOYbMnX3Ro/s320/405224_10150501232209775_739419774_9147071_856246395_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2wJ_JqsKfL8/TxMVal6NxiI/AAAAAAAADiM/rOV6V9zDtFI/s1600/394307_10150501237984775_739419774_9147089_1132803639_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697921500150875682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2wJ_JqsKfL8/TxMVal6NxiI/AAAAAAAADiM/rOV6V9zDtFI/s320/394307_10150501237984775_739419774_9147089_1132803639_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; To have my love ones to end my night, I could not ask for more. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-594105653905100655?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/594105653905100655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/594105653905100655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/brighter-than-sunshine.html' title='Brighter than sunshine'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NCUGCZv4jQc/TxMXimnM9DI/AAAAAAAADj4/RKc0IaeEZG8/s72-c/407739_10150501127969775_739419774_9146816_739871513_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4668937884213480160</id><published>2012-01-13T23:42:00.005+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T23:31:11.860+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t9DP4AXMkqs/TxG7DVaXK0I/AAAAAAAADiA/kP6BvD9gwug/s1600/221615_10150173191899775_739419774_7045848_3531745_n%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697540669562104642" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t9DP4AXMkqs/TxG7DVaXK0I/AAAAAAAADiA/kP6BvD9gwug/s320/221615_10150173191899775_739419774_7045848_3531745_n%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's the 13th and I feel so far away from you and they say, "Chin up girl, life doesn't stop here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-4668937884213480160?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4668937884213480160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4668937884213480160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/bitter.html' title='Bitter'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t9DP4AXMkqs/TxG7DVaXK0I/AAAAAAAADiA/kP6BvD9gwug/s72-c/221615_10150173191899775_739419774_7045848_3531745_n%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5394154157623098896</id><published>2012-01-10T23:28:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T02:36:25.362+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;AND I FINALLY DID SOME SHOPPING!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In actual fact, I am not exhilirated as I sound. I was majorly crestfallen when I could not find the perfect ribbon blouse. Now that I'm home, I realised I've got a serious lack of funds in my bank. Come to think of it, I haven't even gotten everything in my wish list. I've overspent on things I think I wouldn't even wear. :( And, I still owe my boyfriend his birthday date. I'm in need of money, but money never falls from the sky does it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, it's only January. I'm praying hard my relief teaching application is approved and I'm all out to earn money in the coming months. Well, you got to keep the faith. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5394154157623098896?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5394154157623098896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5394154157623098896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-i-finally-did-some-shopping-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5805392305302705919</id><published>2012-01-06T23:09:00.005+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T01:43:28.062+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Brand new start to a brand new year.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;God heard my prayers. Thank you. I know I haven't been updating diligently but hey, spare me. Throughout the last bits of 2011, I have been swamped with loads of mugging for the most dreadful exams in my entire life..dates with friends..bla bla and of course Paris (the best way to end the year). I'd blog about Paris if I'm not lazy, but speaking of lazy, the first week of Jan has passed and I have yet to start on my thesis (at which we were constantly reminded on starting thesis in Dec). I'm sorry I wasted a few minutes of your life and you may close this page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is I've gotten my results and I am so thankful. :) On another note, dear boyfriend has gotten his driving license and of course, that calls for a celebration! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for weekend &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5805392305302705919?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5805392305302705919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5805392305302705919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/brand-new-start-to-brand-new-year.html' title='Brand new start to a brand new year.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-872744161887553607</id><published>2012-01-05T23:18:00.013+06:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T00:52:24.244+06:00</updated><title type='text'>So it's 2012!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T9iXHqf9gS4/Twc5Esl92TI/AAAAAAAADho/QQVtZLb_wVE/s1600/382996_10150482368369775_739419774_9075092_18506171_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unbelievable how a year has passed in a blink of an eye. My friends had their resolutions perfectly listed on their spaces, I feel it's a little late for mine now. 2012 is finally here and I'm not sure if I should be all hyped up about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;2011 has been an amazing ride. Mum had cancer at the beginning of the year and indeed it was a huge blow. It's been a year now but those memories, still carved deeply in my mind. The journey was rough but I'm glad we made it through. I had school to think of, my little sister to care for, and seeing Dad to stress about the costly bills were enough to drain me out. There, I found faith. Faith in God, faith in myself, faith in Dad who stood strong for the family, and most importantly, faith in Mum who fought strong for her life. But of course, I have friends who stood by me, to wipe my tears and convince me everything will be fine. My boyfriend was a sweetheart. He was there for me, and more importantly, for my family. Indeed, he's my pillar of strength and I can never thank him enough. I love you baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;2011, I turned 21. My party was a blast and it drew a clear line between true friends and the fakers. It was upsetting but the boyfriend made me realised it's really not worth to have friends who stab you in the back. Life moves on and the good things kept coming. I did pretty well in school (semester 1 was a disaster!) and I managed to get a scholarship from the Singapore Retailer's Association. That I must say, was really surprising because I choked on my words throughout the many rounds of interviews. Besides, I had to compete with other students and only 9 got through. Thank you God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;To end such a 'rollercoaster' year, I kept myself occupied with my close friends and that feeling is amazing! Just because I don't go out as often on school days and to have my close friends by my side to end my year, it was beyond perfect. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694579941114343170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b5PSG3nPhN0/Twc2SQcvbwI/AAAAAAAADhc/eNmCAyPQP7k/s320/392091_10150446358149775_739419774_8898766_765635913_n.jpg" /&gt;Had a stroll with John along Orchard Rd just because I'm in love with the Christmas lights, such pretty things &amp;lt;3 It was fun, as always, with non-stop giggling and laughters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yp4CNgu0Swo/Twc2Eeg9EOI/AAAAAAAADhQ/CZJ_sVOYD6M/s1600/374762_10150482543499775_739419774_9075583_2087708688_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694579704371941602" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yp4CNgu0Swo/Twc2Eeg9EOI/AAAAAAAADhQ/CZJ_sVOYD6M/s320/374762_10150482543499775_739419774_9075583_2087708688_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Told Marcus I wanted to play with snow so badly! Well, foam was beautiful enough. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9_aE5v_sNcc/Twc12q43axI/AAAAAAAADhE/1bzbdFUt6n8/s1600/401385_10150482546399775_739419774_9075592_1015706887_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694579467175291666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9_aE5v_sNcc/Twc12q43axI/AAAAAAAADhE/1bzbdFUt6n8/s320/401385_10150482546399775_739419774_9075592_1015706887_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Starbucks date with my 2 perfect girls. How pretty and how I envy them. It's amazing how we've all grown from girls to women and we're still in each others' lives. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Gr86fsy2rc/Twc1sEnSBvI/AAAAAAAADg4/TjresYDuzwo/s1600/406749_10150482451729775_739419774_9075309_366035221_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694579285102298866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Gr86fsy2rc/Twc1sEnSBvI/AAAAAAAADg4/TjresYDuzwo/s320/406749_10150482451729775_739419774_9075309_366035221_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And who could ever forget? My annoying bestfriends whom I love so much. It has been 8 or probably 9 (I suck at Math) years since we've been together. We've changed, had our fights, had our epic moments, laughters, grudges but we're still standing strong. Nothing can ever break us apart &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UlS8E4nH3HA/Twc1gGIAdaI/AAAAAAAADgs/PXi3-R09GRU/s1600/388791_10150482365154775_739419774_9075071_2144447984_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694579079349564834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UlS8E4nH3HA/Twc1gGIAdaI/AAAAAAAADgs/PXi3-R09GRU/s320/388791_10150482365154775_739419774_9075071_2144447984_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least, my companion &amp;lt;3 My boyfriend looks so good-looking in here :) I don't want to sound cheesy and I know 'You're my best' is really common but heck, that's what couples in love would say right? But just for Ashiq, I am so thankful for your presence and unconditional love. Thank you for all your support and for all the achievements you've made this year, I am really proud of you baby. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that it's 2012, it's a big year. I'm graduating come June and I can't wait to finally say I'm out of Uni. As for now, I'm so sick of studying. I know I shouldn't even feel sick with books just yet because I still have one final major thesis to work on. I want to travel, to explore, and to live life freely. I feel sorry for myself to poke this fantasy bubble of mine because I have a working bond right after I graduate. Sigh. So much for travelling. :( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Enough of the sighing. I should learn to make the best out of life. So here's to a great year ahead! Happy 2012! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-54BzxyHMeks/Twc1GWHQMbI/AAAAAAAADgg/kya5aVrx5hc/s1600/403935_10150482371579775_739419774_9075112_1380852553_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694578636964770226" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-54BzxyHMeks/Twc1GWHQMbI/AAAAAAAADgg/kya5aVrx5hc/s320/403935_10150482371579775_739419774_9075112_1380852553_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-872744161887553607?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/872744161887553607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/872744161887553607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-its-2012.html' title='So it&apos;s 2012!'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b5PSG3nPhN0/Twc2SQcvbwI/AAAAAAAADhc/eNmCAyPQP7k/s72-c/392091_10150446358149775_739419774_8898766_765635913_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2617581712545498005</id><published>2011-12-22T22:25:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T22:27:53.221+06:00</updated><title type='text'>I cried for far too long.</title><content type='html'>It's really funny how people think I'm all fine on the outside.&lt;br /&gt;They have no idea how much I cried just because I don't look pretty like my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has secrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2617581712545498005?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2617581712545498005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2617581712545498005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-cried-for-far-too-long.html' title='I cried for far too long.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6285785346408603053</id><published>2011-10-19T10:35:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T10:43:33.135+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Escape</title><content type='html'>It was pitch black&lt;br /&gt;Suffocating, unable to breathe&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cried for help but no one heard me&lt;br /&gt;I lost my balance and fell off my feet&lt;br /&gt;Found myself hanging by the thread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helpless&lt;br /&gt;I let myself drift&lt;br /&gt;I let myself wander around, aimlessly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6285785346408603053?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6285785346408603053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6285785346408603053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/10/escape.html' title='Escape'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5466455706365844822</id><published>2011-10-11T21:05:00.005+06:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T21:10:37.403+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Love.</title><content type='html'>I love everyone. I love people who love me. I love avoiding unworthy people. I love people hugging me, but best of all, I love punching bitches on the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5466455706365844822?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5466455706365844822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5466455706365844822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/10/love.html' title='Love.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1940392735955070175</id><published>2011-09-29T21:16:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T21:19:58.390+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop for a while and look back</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EF0z1Gynj8w/ToSL9md1q4I/AAAAAAAADgY/fX1XMt2HcKs/s1600/260333_10150222040854775_739419774_7516909_113904_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657800922298166146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EF0z1Gynj8w/ToSL9md1q4I/AAAAAAAADgY/fX1XMt2HcKs/s320/260333_10150222040854775_739419774_7516909_113904_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've missed you too much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1940392735955070175?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1940392735955070175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1940392735955070175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/09/stop-for-while-and-look-back.html' title='Stop for a while and look back'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EF0z1Gynj8w/ToSL9md1q4I/AAAAAAAADgY/fX1XMt2HcKs/s72-c/260333_10150222040854775_739419774_7516909_113904_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6749341306846516098</id><published>2011-09-28T23:26:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T23:33:42.594+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pride oh so thin</title><content type='html'>If I could turn back time, I definitely will.&lt;br /&gt;As of now, I'm balancing on a strand of thread.&lt;br /&gt;It's okay if it's a joke but I still need to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6749341306846516098?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6749341306846516098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6749341306846516098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/09/pride-oh-so-thin.html' title='Pride oh so thin'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-266367958263441012</id><published>2011-09-23T20:06:00.006+06:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T21:06:11.599+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KEvUHXIJivM/ToCSM4HdS1I/AAAAAAAADgQ/_3XT25tDCn0/s1600/313632_165541620190574_110722312339172_329994_4962915_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656681881897093970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KEvUHXIJivM/ToCSM4HdS1I/AAAAAAAADgQ/_3XT25tDCn0/s320/313632_165541620190574_110722312339172_329994_4962915_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This has nothing to do with me, as of now, in case all of you are wondering. The boyfriend and I are doing really really well. :) I just came across this beautiful quote on facebook and I thought it'd be nice to have it here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I realized I haven't been updating this space for a while now. I'm swallowed up by all the journals, projects, and of course the high school drama in my group. It annoys me just by the thought of it. Funny how friends can stab you in the back. Oh well, life as it is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I forget that friendships are fragile. I am tired of being nice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-266367958263441012?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/266367958263441012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/266367958263441012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-has-nothing-to-do-with-me-as-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KEvUHXIJivM/ToCSM4HdS1I/AAAAAAAADgQ/_3XT25tDCn0/s72-c/313632_165541620190574_110722312339172_329994_4962915_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-675675323588653183</id><published>2011-09-07T23:33:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T23:41:14.077+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful heart cracks</title><content type='html'>Just today, I learnt that friendships are not all pure, that relationships are really fragile, that painful memories cannot be forgotten even if it has been five years and just today, my heart gave way too easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-675675323588653183?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/675675323588653183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/675675323588653183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/09/beautiful-heart-cracks.html' title='Beautiful heart cracks'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5047993583889219420</id><published>2011-09-02T23:00:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T00:39:16.055+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Aidilfitri</title><content type='html'>Wishing all Muslims a very blessed Aidilfitri!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am a little bit too late but it's better late than never. ;) I have been contemplating on posting a Raya post on the first day itself but I've been feeling too lazy lately. (I have a few unfinished drafts in my dashboard waiting to be published so that really explains how lazy I am at this point.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my Grandpa Joe and Grandma Na'esah. They can never get cheesy in front of us children (explains the formal shot) and it amuses me every time they blush when they're coaxed to act all mushy and cheesy in front of the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647810514885269042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SkVwpMUMRnU/TmENvWpz1jI/AAAAAAAADfw/0nY_Mg6UtUA/s320/319415_2168072174379_1623932538_2155058_1593177_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nuclear family. :) I am so blessed and thankful my family is back to normalcy. We overcame the rough journey, we endured and stood by one another. One important lesson that we've learnt, no matter how imperfect we are as a family, we are nothing without each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647809666895043938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EODmrbrYRGo/TmEM9_pL3WI/AAAAAAAADfo/dRSTW1C9-es/s320/309283_2168072614390_1623932538_2155060_2111261_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A colourful spectrum of my uncles, aunts and cousins. We are not of a huge family but Joe's family is wild enough (in a good way of course) to bring one whole block down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647809427336393922" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-akx3hGpHXWM/TmEMwDN89MI/AAAAAAAADfg/a58w_SMAmD4/s320/305177_2168073414410_1623932538_2155064_1232175_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousins and I. I am the oldest in the bunch. Boooo to that. I've always wished for an older brother or a sister because being the eldest can be burdensome at times. You are always expected to be at your best behaviour, do very well in your studies and the list goes on, really! All for one reason; you lead the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647809163134886546" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WKfdgNlQRzY/TmEMgq_Z4pI/AAAAAAAADfY/P4eT000JvKc/s320/308798_2168072054376_1623932538_2155057_2089488_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wonderful aunts, uncles and cousins from my dad's side. I am a lot closer to my mum's side but we are still close in one way or another. Besides, what is life without family? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647829767663297138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SM0ZGFPHzJU/TmEfQA1yonI/AAAAAAAADgA/13Dbe_d-1kc/s320/SAM_3986.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can never get over these two sweethearts. They are really cute, especially when they are engrossed in their baby talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647830086345692802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QtAjt9_7HgM/TmEfikBmFoI/AAAAAAAADgI/m2JvogG__Nw/s320/SAM_3990.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly speaking, I was disappointed at myself for not putting in any effort in dolling myself up. When I stand beside pretty, dolled up girls, my heart just gave way. A little bit too dramatic but that is exactly how I feel every time my self esteem is on the line. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend is here and the family has planned on Raya visitings on both days already. I AM LAZY to even think of dolling up but I'd definitely put in extra effort or you'd find me ranting again. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647810720296138322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2QNFs1fhw9o/TmEN7T3k9lI/AAAAAAAADf4/zDetgCx5PBI/s320/301014_2168079174554_1623932538_2155093_670180_n.jpg" /&gt;I shouldn't dwell myself in sadness so here's my sister, Hannah and I, wishing you a very happy Raya! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of love&lt;br /&gt;nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5047993583889219420?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5047993583889219420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5047993583889219420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/09/blog-post.html' title='Aidilfitri'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SkVwpMUMRnU/TmENvWpz1jI/AAAAAAAADfw/0nY_Mg6UtUA/s72-c/319415_2168072174379_1623932538_2155058_1593177_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7615533268200116528</id><published>2011-09-01T22:59:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T00:59:55.190+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chins up and pull yourself together.</title><content type='html'>When things go wrong as they sometimes will&lt;br /&gt;When the road you're trudging seems all uphill&lt;br /&gt;When the funds are low, and the debts are high&lt;br /&gt;And you want to smile, but have to sigh&lt;br /&gt;When care is pressing you down a bit&lt;br /&gt;Rest if you must, but do not quit&lt;br /&gt;Success is failure turned inside out&lt;br /&gt;The silver tint of the clouds of doubt&lt;br /&gt;And you can never tell how close you are&lt;br /&gt;It may be near when it seems so far&lt;br /&gt;So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit&lt;br /&gt;It's when things go wrong that you must not quit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can never run away from the ups and downs of life. Always keep this in mind. When you are happy, always be thankful for the precious moments. When you are down, fret not. Have faith in yourself and instead of giving yourself reasons why you can't, give yourself reasons why you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7615533268200116528?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7615533268200116528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7615533268200116528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/09/chins-up-and-pull-yourself-together.html' title='Chins up and pull yourself together.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5268244465054966613</id><published>2011-08-23T21:19:00.009+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T01:38:51.325+06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm legal.</title><content type='html'>First and foremost, it is my big 21 today! :) The long awaited number is finally here and now that I am really 21 of age, I find myself in awe. I am a full fledged adult and my only wish is to be a successful woman, strong in character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year itself has been tottery. My mum was diagnosed with cancer, my family was encountering financial difficulties and that alone, was huge enough to bring me down. Thankfully, everything has subside now and I can only thank God for it. How true when they say tragedies always brings a family closer. I definitely second to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always lived my life with ease, without problems for I know I have my parents to deal with those. I took advantage of that fact until it struck me really hard when I learnt I was at risk of losing the most special person in my heart; my mum. Just this year alone, I've learnt the true meaning of faith. The firm faith I had in my mum's recovery and my faith in God's doings and blessings. Now that I am 21, I have become a stronger person and someone who makes life worth living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 21st party was well spent on a fantastic weekend, together with all my friends and loved ones. I celebrated my 21st with my girlfriend, Chantelle, and if you ask me, I have no regrets by doing so. Our party was held at a plush North Indian restaurant (I LOVE INDIAN FOOD) and it costs around $1k. Thankfully, the cost was divided and that gave me a little breathing space. The party was really amazing, with really really good food (the Naan was scrumptious!), an awesome company of friends plus Chantelle and I were really treated like princesses so I really shouldn't whine on forking out too much money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a negative note, my mum was disturbed by some of my 'friends' who did not turn up for my party, let alone RSVP. Let's just put it this way. I wouldn't want to act all high school and bitchy about this whole thing because only God knows what their reasons are. Besides, I have no rights over their lives and attending my party is really their choice. Their absence did not really matter to me but that definitely drew a line between the true and phony friends I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better stop the rantings or you'd find me bitchy. I shall let the pictures do the talking then. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645091174132522514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1OPdYOLcz30/Tldkg47cnhI/AAAAAAAADfI/s0x2mMOM6zs/s320/SAM_3780.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I proudly say I did this banner! Chantelle did the heart cutting and I finished off the rest. It was a last minute work (I woke up early before the party to finish this off) so pardon my workmanship. :) The restaurant had an enchanting background and we found it really cute to hang the banner in between the men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645090363850605122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mvZkkZiuWuU/TldjxuZLwkI/AAAAAAAADe4/mkNSiMxSTo0/s320/SAM_3810.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantelle; she who lent me a shoulder when I cry, who shared my joy with me, watch me fail and succeed, bring me up when I fall. She is everything I could ask for. She cancelled her study trip to Scotland and now that I have her with me, I can't wait for school to start! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645090007196379874" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qFh_gc6wYqU/Tldjc9wMKuI/AAAAAAAADew/h8Pg-FKdVlo/s320/SAM_3790.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My beloved family came and I was really touched by their presence. :')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645089457264109938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cj9B7TO8UY8/Tldi89GHqXI/AAAAAAAADeo/7R4f-6-foCE/s320/SAM_3853.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We specially ordered our cake in a shape of a key. 'The key to freedom' as I like to call it. It was a cake from Swensens and you know how delicious their ice-cream cakes are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645089057199023298" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8MRNtj9NzW4/TldilqvK5MI/AAAAAAAADeg/azfqd4OgT5Q/s320/SAM_3869.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here we are with our love ones. :) The crowd wanted us to exchange kisses, yeah, I get it, R21? Hahaha. Well, we suck at being all cheesy in front of people so here is a decent picture of us four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gm_tko10-Qs/TldlCFIfwlI/AAAAAAAADfQ/LNdUrS4E_h4/s1600/SAM_3885.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645091744344162898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gm_tko10-Qs/TldlCFIfwlI/AAAAAAAADfQ/LNdUrS4E_h4/s320/SAM_3885.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645088617717280690" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mQ0dDpJTP4Q/TldiMFijr7I/AAAAAAAADeY/hHIwvzauUX0/s320/SAM_3882.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have more pictures but it is a hassle to upload here in blogger. The rest are in facebook. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645086498657112946" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-99xjxpphyMQ/TldgQvbPk3I/AAAAAAAADeI/N_ShZjExqpk/s320/SAM_3870.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645086153177251234" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzCX_UbJCnA/Tldf8oabPaI/AAAAAAAADeA/cACXVmTVEVc/s320/SAM_3875.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The restaurant played a birthday song during cake cutting and I admit I was blushing throughout. All the attention and pairs of eyes were directed towards us and I was hoping so bad the song would end fast. Apparently, it did not. It went on for a few rounds and kept Chantelle and me giggling throughout. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all, I really had a blast at my party and I must say it was really an awesome 21! My friends pampered me with wonderful gifts, gifts I never thought I would have! :D So here is a big thank you for those who were there and I definitely know now who my true friends are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645090899244616514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vM27p4c95t8/TldkQ45EC0I/AAAAAAAADfA/rkUaQxqgxR0/s320/SAM_3778.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those aside, I must thank this pretty boy here on a personal note. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the times I was really in need, you were there for me. Never once you left me on the ledge. It has been two years and a nearly a half that we have been together, never once have I thought of leaving you. You have always been with me, in different phases of life. I am no more a teenager. I am a woman who loves you dearly, who'd work really hard and be successful for us. You have never give up on life and for us, you would even go the other side of the world. If you are willing to do that, I'd risk everything to be with you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you, A. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;love nad &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5268244465054966613?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5268244465054966613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5268244465054966613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post_23.html' title='I&apos;m legal.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1OPdYOLcz30/Tldkg47cnhI/AAAAAAAADfI/s0x2mMOM6zs/s72-c/SAM_3780.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2168875212043139636</id><published>2011-08-18T23:06:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T23:11:02.510+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't wake me up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I was expecting the sun to shine on me. Instead, I got drenched in pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2168875212043139636?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2168875212043139636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2168875212043139636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/dont-wake-me-up.html' title='Don&apos;t wake me up.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-246662359298334312</id><published>2011-08-17T22:54:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T23:36:14.427+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Words and letters.</title><content type='html'>People judge.&lt;br /&gt;How do you want them to look at you?&lt;br /&gt;Where am I?&lt;br /&gt;Who am I really?&lt;br /&gt;Because, I, for one reason, lost my identity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-246662359298334312?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/246662359298334312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/246662359298334312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-miss-you-baby.html' title='Words and letters.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2615512893699307024</id><published>2011-08-12T22:27:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T00:53:36.525+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pause and play.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It has now become a norm that Saturdays are spent with families or friends. The last time I spent my Saturday alone with the boyfriend was......(I swear I can't recall). People say it brings no good to a relationship if you haven't had a private date with your partner for long. Well, as much as I want a private time with my boyfriend sometimes, I personally prefer having company. So true to the saying, 'the more, the merrier'. It never fails to excite me every weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just last Saturday, I had a shopping spree with my cousin, Zakir. That's his girlfriend, right there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640025810063626658" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BXSIHy8X4xM/TkVll5TgkaI/AAAAAAAADdo/FIfKFk7gyAs/s320/SAM_3591.jpg" /&gt;They really remind me of the times I shared with H. So young and naive, freshmen in the polytechnic and dealing with the hiccups of their almost three years relationship. That was exactly how I was with H five years ago but the one thing that differs from Zakir's relationship; I found myself crying 3/4 of the time I was with H. The years have passed and I still find little bits of memories of him in me; not the happiness we shared but the pain he inflicted. It has been years since the break up but trust me, I'm still haunted by the heart break. It is funny how the person you once loved so dearly can cause so much pain in your life that it sometimes affect your current relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope these two love birds last forever, though I have striked 'forever' out of my dictionary. I've always wanted to grow up with my partner together, go through high school, polytechnic and climbing the career ladder together. I've failed the first time, but now that I'm with Ashiq, I'm giving my all to make it work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boyfriend once said, everyone has to experience a major heart break before having the right one. You make mistakes in the past relationship, you learn and make the current relationship a better one. I've always loved when he gives words of wisdom because most of the time, I find him hilariously annoying. I think I should emphasize on the word, ANNOYING. Though I can't deny, it is when he annoys me that I love him the most. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640025338049435426" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r5RX4B4GnPA/TkVlKa6jlyI/AAAAAAAADdg/j5-TZYVihNo/s320/SAM_3596.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I've been wearing the princess hairband a bit too frequent now. I find myself too boring without it but with it, it made me extremely self conscious, especially when I received stares from strangers. Sigh. I am having girl problems. I want to look pretty but I don't even know where to start. My girlfriend said I should start living with the quote, "Loving yourself makes every part of you beautiful." Well, easy said than done huh? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640025126897034162" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCs_mQMDT6k/TkVk-IT5o7I/AAAAAAAADdY/W_QBoObT8Oc/s320/SAM_3598.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love bought me a jumpsuit for my birthday. :) It is costly for a jumpsuit (I've been contemplating in buying it for months) but my boyfriend bought it anyway! I'm definitely wearing it at my party come next weekend. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640038820293498994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tbZGAosJ4Z8/TkVxbMMB2HI/AAAAAAAADdw/edtikc5Fh-s/s320/SAM_3594.jpg" /&gt;My baby sister has been spending way too much time with my boyfriend I'm starting to think she is emotionally attached to him. We always have our girly talks and she left me flabbergasted when she asked me not to leave Ashiq. She added things would be really different without Ashiq and she will not like it if I end up with a random Tom, Dick or Harry. I find her really adorable to even think of such things at a tender age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640043007704009010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iW8wLq-cm9c/TkV1O7gfiTI/AAAAAAAADd4/36OUe-UmRPM/s320/SAM_3600.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W3hpxhpTbhY/TkVkGD57xGI/AAAAAAAADdI/PNpd_vB0wGk/s1600/SAM_3599.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640024163641705570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W3hpxhpTbhY/TkVkGD57xGI/AAAAAAAADdI/PNpd_vB0wGk/s320/SAM_3599.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended off the night with my all time favourite Ben and Jerry. I had an amazing weekend with this bunch! :D For now, I'm counting down the hours to tomorrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2615512893699307024?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2615512893699307024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2615512893699307024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post_12.html' title='Pause and play.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BXSIHy8X4xM/TkVll5TgkaI/AAAAAAAADdo/FIfKFk7gyAs/s72-c/SAM_3591.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7141590804791165689</id><published>2011-08-08T21:56:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T23:58:09.593+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mr Genie, now that I'm turning 21..grant me my wishes.</title><content type='html'>My wishlist kept increasing by the day. By hook or by crook, I'll make sure I get each and every one of them. I'm not featuring all (I'm lazy) but here's a peek of my wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hwzQhTaYmEI/TkAbnY2r1-I/AAAAAAAADdA/XwEZvKk6R7c/s1600/1162_silhouette_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638537096968525794" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hwzQhTaYmEI/TkAbnY2r1-I/AAAAAAAADdA/XwEZvKk6R7c/s320/1162_silhouette_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I've been looking for a pair of wide leg trousers but I couldn't find it anywhere. Sigh. I'm so madly in love with it. This pair of jeans is the new sex, especially when you match it with a gorgeous sexy pair of heels. I'm not a huge fan of jeans back in poly. You can always see me wearing a pair of hot pants, bandage dresses or skirts. My boyfriend claims I'm still stuck with my teenage look. Booooo. Think it's time to make a change to a more adult look! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638532361643922866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Uc45snEFCK8/TkAXTwZUlbI/AAAAAAAADc4/vWuKnkeN9zc/s320/P211635_hero.jpg" /&gt;True Romance Eyeshadow Palette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This pretty thing is a palette of eight eyeshadow colors from tattoo-artist Kat Von D. The spectrum of colours will give you smoky eyes which instantly adds an air of mystery. I look ridiculously plain in pictures and look a lot worse in real life. I've always adored girls with gorgeous eye make up. Because I had complexion problems throughout my teenage years, I never wore any make up. Now that it has all cleared up (well mostly), I guess it's never too late to start my work of art! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Save money, save money, save money........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7141590804791165689?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7141590804791165689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7141590804791165689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post_08.html' title='Dear Mr Genie, now that I&apos;m turning 21..grant me my wishes.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hwzQhTaYmEI/TkAbnY2r1-I/AAAAAAAADdA/XwEZvKk6R7c/s72-c/1162_silhouette_l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6477265132859883659</id><published>2011-08-07T22:57:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T23:44:12.360+06:00</updated><title type='text'>My saviour.</title><content type='html'>Youtube, I'm going to be highly dependent on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6477265132859883659?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6477265132859883659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6477265132859883659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post_07.html' title='My saviour.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3229703403576178348</id><published>2011-08-02T21:29:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T21:46:14.254+06:00</updated><title type='text'>What are you?</title><content type='html'>You made me fall for your smile, all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3229703403576178348?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3229703403576178348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3229703403576178348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post_02.html' title='What are you?'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1580746996135166971</id><published>2011-08-01T21:32:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T22:10:56.883+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep it together.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In February this year, Mum broke the news to the family that she was diagnosed with cancer. My heart lurched upon hearing the heartwrenching news. Thankfully enough, with prayers from our dear friends and families, my nuclear family overcame this tragedy. For the faith I had in God, it all paid off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just yesterday, Mum decided we headed Geylang to get us baju kurung for Raya. To be honest, I find myself in an extreme apprehension at the thought of Raya. Getting a new suit for Raya did not even cross my mind. All I wanted was to have my family together, all healthy and happy. Mum did not think the same. Mum got both my sister and I two sets of suits each, which I thought was unneccassary. One suit costs near $200 and I really think the money is worth for other necessities. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"It's okay. I don't mind spending on the both of you because honestly, when I was told I was diagnosed with cancer, I didn't think I could spend Raya with you girls this year." I looked into her eyes, speechless. I felt my heart throbbed upon hearing what she said. Why didn't I even think of that? All this while, I took advantage of what God has given me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mum is an amazing woman and there is no one else who could take her place. After months of chemotherapy sessions, and now that she has completed all her cycles, I'm immensely proud of her determination. Now that my family is back to normalcy, I couldn't be any happier. The pictures of her undergoing her chemo sessions, all tattooed in my mind. I still remember how I was constantly worried about her health and how we'd make it through the months. I had school to worry about and I always have to accompany Dad in the emergency area at such unearthly hours. At times where Mum had a sudden fever attack in the wee hours of the morning and we had to rush her to the hospital at even 4am, leaving Dad and I to take a short nap in the car while waiting for Mum to be registered to a ward. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It wasn't completely smooth sailing but cliche' as this sounds, the experience has brought us so much closer. Those are memories I wouldn't want to keep but I still have them, carved so deep at the back of my mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The doctor has confirmed Mum's cancer cells are really gone. Sure, she still has to go for her monthly check ups but the worst is certainly over. God, I have no one else to thank but you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1580746996135166971?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1580746996135166971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1580746996135166971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title='Keep it together.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-592101723881992631</id><published>2011-07-29T21:47:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T00:49:28.934+06:00</updated><title type='text'>A sudden, lengthy post.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The week has been pretty short because I was called a lot for relief. Just this week alone, I've earned a good amount of near $300. That definitely took a whole lot of burden off my chest because I've been really stressed up about the whole party planning. Speaking of which, Chantelle and I are in the midst of putting the pieces together and we really really hope our 21st would be a blast. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Party matters aside, I had a meet up with Cindy and Oli recently. We had a good time catching up at Clarke Quay but I realized we have a few differences now that we've drifted apart. It upsets me a little because we do not share similar wavelengths like how we used to. Back then in poly, we'd meet every single day and talk about the littlest randomest of things. Now that Cindy's a full grown working adult and Oli, giving his all in serving the nation (he does not mind staying in camp even during the weekends), we do not have anything common to talk about. It is true when they say, people grow up, change and have different principles and values of life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Here's me and Cindy. I do not have a decent picture of Oli and myself. Besides, I loathe how the lighting emphasizes on my nose. I have an unexplainable disliking towards my nose. Sigh. I have a friend who had a nose surgery and I'm amazed at the wonders of the outcome. I really do not mind going under the knives but, I do not recall being a stringent Muslim the past years and I definitely do not want to add on my list of sins. First step to that, I got to love myself. Sounds easy but I find it really hard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fppe642D76c/TjLsEKEKW9I/AAAAAAAADco/7__-pYIobkk/s1600/SAM_3551.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634825639959354322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fppe642D76c/TjLsEKEKW9I/AAAAAAAADco/7__-pYIobkk/s320/SAM_3551.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We had a scrumptious dinner. I should have ordered more since the gentleman offered us a treat. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lpDQqYHXjyo/TjLlCLqij_I/AAAAAAAADcQ/asqNixnjcaY/s1600/SAM_3555.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634817909447626738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lpDQqYHXjyo/TjLlCLqij_I/AAAAAAAADcQ/asqNixnjcaY/s320/SAM_3555.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LDil0SHMHz0/TjLkpf1rMwI/AAAAAAAADcI/ek1jYX2kaVk/s1600/SAM_3554.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634817485366309634" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LDil0SHMHz0/TjLkpf1rMwI/AAAAAAAADcI/ek1jYX2kaVk/s320/SAM_3554.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hLzFveFv6XE/TjLkMlvgzQI/AAAAAAAADcA/b2OS58Fb4xg/s1600/SAM_3557.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634816988734868738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hLzFveFv6XE/TjLkMlvgzQI/AAAAAAAADcA/b2OS58Fb4xg/s320/SAM_3557.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;-----------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashiq and I constantly missed and longed for each other on weekdays. Being away from him gives me time to have a reflection of myself. I've always loved the short breaks in between classes, where I'd find myself in the office, scribbling a mindmap of my life on little pieces of paper I could find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PcMfMJkmhPM/TjLjrYCS3XI/AAAAAAAADb4/ueQYzM7xc24/s1600/SAM_3559.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634816418119867762" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PcMfMJkmhPM/TjLjrYCS3XI/AAAAAAAADb4/ueQYzM7xc24/s320/SAM_3559.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have points 1, 2 and 3 settled. I've got a year left in Uni and I'd definitely give my all to get my Honors. I managed to get a scholarship from the Singapore Retailers Association (a tough fight because only 9 out of 30 got chosen) and since then, my future does not seem so bleak. I've attained a management position with my sponspored company and their offer does not disappoint me after a few negotiations. Once I sign the contract next Tuesday, I'd be a management trainee upon graduation. The thought of entering the real world really excites me but I'm pretty sure there are a lot of sacrifices to be made, especially in my relationship with my boyfriend. We've talked things out and of course, being an understanding boyfriend as he is, he is supporting me in achieving my goal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Point 4 is a little bit 50:50 because I'm fully aware, taking Masters is no joke. Commitment and money. Without them all, stop talking. Marriage wise, I don't know. I'm not at all excited about that just yet. In fact, my boyfriend and I realized we have a lot, like literally A LOT in life that we have yet to explore and experience. So, the word 'marriage' is definitely striked as of now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mum on the other hand, think otherwise. She claimed Ashiq and I have been spending almost 3/4 of our lives together and thus, marriage would definitely come in four or five years to come. Sigh. The thought of that disgusts me as much as I do not want to get married early. I really hope that wouldn't happen because, really, I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY JUST YET. Like any sane girl, I'd want to be successful in my career and travel the world before settling down. Besides, once I graduate, I'll be so caught up in climbing the career ladder while my boyfriend will be so preoccupied with his studies, work and friends that we'll find very little time for ourselves. There, you see. Our future is all pre-planned but yet again, it all lies in the hands of God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I am aware that love is not 100% concrete. But with Ashiq, I do not mind taking the risk. I love you baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-592101723881992631?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/592101723881992631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/592101723881992631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_29.html' title='A sudden, lengthy post.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fppe642D76c/TjLsEKEKW9I/AAAAAAAADco/7__-pYIobkk/s72-c/SAM_3551.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2433886386608488811</id><published>2011-07-27T22:25:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T23:58:38.521+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet lullaby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It is funny how two years have passed. I'm still having the butterflies everytime I look into your eyes. The only reason why you are special. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EnuEL4MVUkI/TjBPK2Hk_xI/AAAAAAAADbw/OeaAHtQN_J0/s1600/71783_447156049774_739419774_5497777_806957_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634090181585075986" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EnuEL4MVUkI/TjBPK2Hk_xI/AAAAAAAADbw/OeaAHtQN_J0/s320/71783_447156049774_739419774_5497777_806957_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I love you baby :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;love nad&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2433886386608488811?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2433886386608488811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2433886386608488811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_27.html' title='Sweet lullaby'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EnuEL4MVUkI/TjBPK2Hk_xI/AAAAAAAADbw/OeaAHtQN_J0/s72-c/71783_447156049774_739419774_5497777_806957_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7876869738756373535</id><published>2011-07-24T21:59:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T01:25:23.862+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Toast to love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just on Thursday, I had a date with Sya. I've made a deal with myself that I will never ever neglect my friends. Guessed I'm still good at keeping the deal because I've been having weekly dates with all my friends since the semester holiday started. Though I must admit, I'd rather rot myself at home since the weather has been extremely devastating lately. The weather is the only reason I always find myself dreading the dates I've fixed with friends. That happens all the time but I'll end up heading home with a wide smile on my face because my dates have always been a blast, no matter who I hang out with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For the second time in the week, I had ayam penyet for dinner. It didn't really matter because ayam penyet is by far, still my favourite. We had plenty to talk about and decided to settle down at Ben and Jerry. I had my cookies and cream flavoured ice cream and I could never be less satisfied. Of course, we had our usual spark of issues. Girl talks always get to me, those boyfriend issues, our future and a lot of others that I'm lazy to disclose. So that was it for Thursday. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632985160407817554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-covhYUgG-Nk/TixiKJcnnVI/AAAAAAAADbg/BvjtbFtlZBY/s320/206104_10150254175694775_739419774_7766683_6519270_n.jpg" /&gt;I've been depressed lately and I was really looking forward to Saturday. My boyfriend has always been the cure to my depression and I'm really really blessed for his presence. He specifically planned a movie marathon (Harry Potter and Transformers) for our Saturday and being an annoying girlfriend as I usually am, I did not do him any justice. Sigh. I wasn't in the best of mood, really, and I just had to spoil the day just because I did not get to watch Harry Potter in imax. I was really upset because I promised my little sister we would catch Harry Potter in imax. I feel so sorry for her. I looked pretty fine in the picture because the least I could do, is to pose for a decent picture right? Sigh, I feel so bad for my boyfriend. Promise you next Saturday will be your day baby. I'll make it up to you. Your wish is my command.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632984460217281714" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vGIuRTCejxQ/TixhhZCL7LI/AAAAAAAADbY/fLq7HqzjTgM/s320/SAM_3511.jpg" /&gt;I did not know what got into me yesterday. Have you ever feel like you're angry, like something is bothering you but you have no idea what it is exactly? I felt just that yesterday and sadly, I let my emotions took over me. Thank god my little sister tagged along because without her, my unstable emotions would definitely trigger a fight between me and my boyfriend. She is like the mediator between us and I really admire her for her sense of neutralism at such a raw age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632984042719386402" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w_FfBlYAaAE/TixhJFu7myI/AAAAAAAADbQ/paPVL7b1RiQ/s320/SAM_3508.jpg" /&gt;Bob came later in the evening to join us for dinner. We finally settled down at Coffee Bean for dinner and I was glad my bestfriend was working considering she'd always be on off during my last visits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632981509297289874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kdIaLrgWT_w/Tixe1oACOpI/AAAAAAAADbA/rn8tq5ABc9U/s320/SAM_3527.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632998044480098498" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNWb8p_RrlA/Tixt4GW00MI/AAAAAAAADbo/iUOFbyDcH1s/s320/SAM_3523.jpg" /&gt;And....Harry Potter it was to end the night with. We did not managed to get seats in imax but I guessed watching it in 3D was already good enough. I forced myself to leave my expectations at the door and it was mildly satisfying. The movie ended near midnight and I was so glad Dad offered to fetch us because I really do not want to waste money on the rapidly increasing cab fare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2feuTx_KsdM/TixeFF75jaI/AAAAAAAADa4/6i5Fq7cY1Oc/s1600/SAM_3531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632980675519417762" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2feuTx_KsdM/TixeFF75jaI/AAAAAAAADa4/6i5Fq7cY1Oc/s320/SAM_3531.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The last for all, I'm so thankful to have these people in my life. Despite my unexpected mood swings, they still stood by me. To you baby, I am sorry. I love you. Look forward to next weekend. I'll make it a blast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7876869738756373535?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7876869738756373535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7876869738756373535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/shoot-me-in-head.html' title='Toast to love.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-covhYUgG-Nk/TixiKJcnnVI/AAAAAAAADbg/BvjtbFtlZBY/s72-c/206104_10150254175694775_739419774_7766683_6519270_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3052354673634513306</id><published>2011-07-23T23:34:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-24T00:17:23.206+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If you ever ask me, I'd have replied I actually lost the meaning of 'happiness'. I forgot how to feel happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3052354673634513306?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3052354673634513306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3052354673634513306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_23.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3625074696635955029</id><published>2011-07-20T23:23:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T23:57:14.410+06:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OnkNaUeSuoY/TicW6_IllzI/AAAAAAAADaY/NcebuV-BKBA/s1600/267913_10150238458774775_739419774_7611565_6204086_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631495061685770034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OnkNaUeSuoY/TicW6_IllzI/AAAAAAAADaY/NcebuV-BKBA/s320/267913_10150238458774775_739419774_7611565_6204086_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3625074696635955029?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3625074696635955029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3625074696635955029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_20.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OnkNaUeSuoY/TicW6_IllzI/AAAAAAAADaY/NcebuV-BKBA/s72-c/267913_10150238458774775_739419774_7611565_6204086_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8214051655671105615</id><published>2011-07-19T21:52:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T00:10:09.916+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's only the second day of the week and I'm trying hard not to whine about how dull today was. The only highlight for the week as of now was Monday. I had a date with my girlfriend, Chantelle. She's leaving for Scotland come August and I wish time flies a lot slower. Considering we're inseperable in school throughout the four years we've been together, I'm really having a hard time letting her leave for Scotland. Honestly speaking, I'd very much love to continue my studies in Scotland, together with her but I have so many people that I can't live without back here in Singapore. Besides, the thought of ditching my studies while I'm there really haunts me. I wouldn't dare risk myself but I must admit, I'd feel a part of me missing because my girlfriend isn't with me the next semester. We're a pair and our schoolmates know that best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We settled down at Starbucks just because we thought it is the most decent place to chill. We raved about the politics our clique of seven is currently facing. I wouldn't want to disclose it because the thought of it is already enough to make me puke. Girls and politics are best friends I must say, but getting so upset or extremely mad at unworthy people are just a waste of time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b9gKU3K3W-I/TiW1zd_K3PI/AAAAAAAADaQ/nYhCFueMvNg/s1600/SAM_3466.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631106804924210418" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b9gKU3K3W-I/TiW1zd_K3PI/AAAAAAAADaQ/nYhCFueMvNg/s320/SAM_3466.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bb54ZzzwRek/TiW1WhcMLEI/AAAAAAAADaI/Grdo1NbbTdY/s1600/SAM_3468.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631105648899535026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iOimTQENDQc/TiW0wLdaMLI/AAAAAAAADaA/J2KJ9dh-0QU/s320/SAM_3471.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our birthdays are coming and we've planned for a combined birthday party. We got all hyped up on the planning and went to the extent of borrowing a pen from a stranger. We penned down our thoughts on a piece of serviette (credit to Starbucks). It was pretty embarrassing. That aside, I know it's best to have an individual party since it's a special 21st but I don't mind a bit to have it with Chantelle. We often question ourselves our titles in our friendship and despite the numerous titles, we'd go back to square one. We're not bestfriends, not close friends but just friends who care deeply for each other. I have an apprehensive uneasiness on the idea of friends forever or friends with titles and we often stumbled when people ask if we're bestfriends. Whatever the title is, I'm thankful for the friendship we have built these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girlfriend aside, the ex-boyfriend whom my boyfriend loathe so much called recently. I'm terribly bothered by it because it does nothing but havoc to my relationship with my Ashiq. It's been five years now, but things haven't change a bit. His doings still haunt me. Five years and I'm still not over the pain. I am not and will not get over it. I hate sharing about him but this is a crucial part of how I came to be the person I was when I met Ashiq. Reliving this memory scares me because I'm aware love never lasts forever. Whatever it is, I'm willing to go through this journey with Ashiq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8214051655671105615?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8214051655671105615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8214051655671105615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_19.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b9gKU3K3W-I/TiW1zd_K3PI/AAAAAAAADaQ/nYhCFueMvNg/s72-c/SAM_3466.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7172841941540230707</id><published>2011-07-17T22:42:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T23:52:40.175+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My week has been really mundane I literally counted down the days to weekend. I work everyday. Besides, being a relief teacher dealing with annoying primary school kids just added to my misery. The only real highlight was to have my boyfriend hanging out with the family on Wednesday. We had everyone gathered in front of the tv for the weekly 'Kum kum' series. Yea, it was that simple but it brightened the few days of my week because time spent with my boyfriend is always amazing. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Byqh0a9a4QQ/TiMUxCxJcZI/AAAAAAAADZ4/1lWEb2p4cVE/s1600/SAM_3379.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630366791932408210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Byqh0a9a4QQ/TiMUxCxJcZI/AAAAAAAADZ4/1lWEb2p4cVE/s320/SAM_3379.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The week passed by so slowly, I was really itching for the weekend to come. Weekends are always 'Boyfriend days' as I would love to call it. :) Saturday started out pretty bleah at first just because I've long wanted a private date with my boyfriend but couldn't because we have a friend's 21st to attend to. The party's theme was cute, something fairytale-y and the dress code was to dress in bright and odd colours. Mine must have been really peculiar because I felt weird myself. I must say yesterday wasn't really my day because the top I was wearing just snapped. It's a sleeveless top, with gold chains hanging loosely on the shoulders. I must have pulled it too hard while tucking it in, the chain snapped. Sigh. That explains the cardigan which I think, is a total turn off. I loathe my hair and I had it cut earlier this afternoon. I'm not too happy about the new style but definitely think it's a lot better. What's new? I loathe everything about myself. Not healthy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630366320668531458" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5mCFjre9PWs/TiMUVnLFWwI/AAAAAAAADZw/0FPUYJoVMo0/s320/SAM_3401.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The party was pretty mild but my boyfriend, being the usual him never fails to lighten up the atmosphere. I bumped into a few friends whom I used to have a certain unexplainable disliking back then when I was in poly. We started exchanging smiles and engaged ourselves in apparently, very long conversations. I was surprised that I enjoyed the very contradicting plot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;While others were indulging themselves with a very scrumptious buffet, I found myself pondering on how my 21st should be. It's a month away, so many plans, so little time. I'm not sure if I'm really hyped up about the whole 21 thingy because being older just means a huge load of responsibilities. Responsibilities aside, I'm in the midst of putting the pieces of my dream party together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7172841941540230707?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7172841941540230707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7172841941540230707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Byqh0a9a4QQ/TiMUxCxJcZI/AAAAAAAADZ4/1lWEb2p4cVE/s72-c/SAM_3379.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1090853477981272995</id><published>2011-07-12T22:23:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T22:35:17.858+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Never expect too much or you'll drown in more disappointment. Our anniversary's tomorrow. Nothing to be excited about. Tomorrow is hell. Nevertherless, I can't wait to see you tomorrow Thamby. And yes, I just got excited. What irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1090853477981272995?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1090853477981272995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1090853477981272995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/never-expect-too-much-or-youll-drown-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5574638225995115146</id><published>2011-07-09T22:45:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T00:52:44.325+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good but bad.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today was a rather pleasant day. I did not get my weekend stroll at Orchard Road but I should not rant as much because I spent quality time with boyfriend and sister. Since the boyfriend's mid-term exam falls on Monday, I have no choice but to sacrifice my weekend just so he could do his revision. Sister spent her time finishing her homework. It was really wise on her part because if I could recall correctly, I was never like her at an age of 13. I'd choose flipping through fashion magazines than indulging myself with school books on a weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H7mCawq62ak/ThiI-1o4JOI/AAAAAAAADZg/Pgh47kR2ra0/s1600/261676_247307705280312_100000032541698_1083284_4881043_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627398347531232482" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H7mCawq62ak/ThiI-1o4JOI/AAAAAAAADZg/Pgh47kR2ra0/s320/261676_247307705280312_100000032541698_1083284_4881043_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad my sister is not like me at all because if she is, I have millions to worry about. The last thing I want from my sister is her to follow my footsteps. Seriously, if I could turn back time, I'd really change every little bit of me. From the uneccessary hang outs with friends whom have not bring me to any good, the unneccessary scoldings from my parents, the countless times my parents had to confiscate my phone just because I have a boyfriend.....really, the list goes on. I wouldn't call myself a rebel because I still obeyed my parents but certainly went against them at some points of life. My point is, notice the number of 'unneccassaries' I just stated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum always say I'd be in NUS or NTU now if I have been studying diligently, heading back home straight after school, not mixing with the wrong group of friends and avoiding whatever that's not bringing me any success back when I was in high school. Well, I am not sure about the whole NUS and NTU thing because I loathe studying, very very much. I am only doing it for the sake of my future. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Come to think of it, I do not have any regrets about the mistakes I did. Because for one reason, I felt those mistakes are the reasons for who I am today. I fell, stood back up proving myself I can be better than who I used to be. Though I really must admit, I'd be in a local university now if I hadn't misbehave back then but oh well, I enjoyed my youth. That's what matters as of now (I really am comforting myself). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Now that I'm turning 21 and have yet to step into the world of 'heavy partying and clubbing', people do look at me differently. It really bothers me at times but I guess at the end of the day, realizing partying doesn't bring me any good sure help me in turning down the party offers. Sigh. Though I really want to have a taste of partying badly, guess that has to wait once I graduate from Uni next year. Then again, as I grew older, I realized my mindset has changed tremendously. I'd rather spend my days travelling than clubbing and getting wasted while jeopardizing my dignity. I don't know, I was just thinking.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Oh well, here's to maturity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5574638225995115146?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5574638225995115146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5574638225995115146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/rich-but-poor.html' title='Good but bad.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H7mCawq62ak/ThiI-1o4JOI/AAAAAAAADZg/Pgh47kR2ra0/s72-c/261676_247307705280312_100000032541698_1083284_4881043_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2583531339218142929</id><published>2011-07-08T22:06:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T22:44:38.541+06:00</updated><title type='text'>A little bit too much.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I am bored to my wits and I am already counting down to the new semester. I am really considering working for Ferragamo to occupy myself during the remaining holidays. I am not really sure if I should because lazing around at home till September doesn't sound that bad either. Besides, I foresee my boyfriend strongly procrastinating about the whole idea of joining Ferragamo again since we already have very little time to ourselves during the weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Side track just a little bit. I received a heartwrenching news from Mum this afternoon. A distant aunt of mine was diagnosed with kidney failure years ago. As if that wasn't bad enough, she found out she had cancer early last month. If you were to think of it, dialysis and chemotherapy just don't go well together. Dialysis washes out the toxic in your body while chemotherapy allows medicine to flow through your veins to kill all the 'bad' cells as they call it. Based on that fact, her chemo sessions are delayed. As if God hasn't tested her enough, her scanning earlier this afternoon showed she has a blood clot in her heart. I really must say, she is one strong woman I definitely admire. God, please give her the strength to fight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mum has been really strict about the family's diet lately and Ashiq, that includes you too. Just so you know, Mum's not happy at you having fast-food almost every day. Probably you need a wake up call. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Honey, specially for you. Get this in your head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Disadvantages of eating junk food : If this type of food becomes a habit, the immediate consequences may be overweight, high cholesterol, increased blood pressure, diabetes or cardiovascular disease.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;To lead a blissful life, good health would suffice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2583531339218142929?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2583531339218142929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2583531339218142929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/little-bit-too-much.html' title='A little bit too much.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1061422073129721209</id><published>2011-07-06T22:25:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T22:25:38.834+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I LOVE YOU.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1061422073129721209?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1061422073129721209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1061422073129721209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-love-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3599051384428652434</id><published>2011-07-04T23:18:00.007+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T00:31:32.439+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it roll.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ending the night with hot milo and peanut butter bread can never be more perfect. My head still throbs and I am really controlling the temptation of popping pills. I shall not even brag about it. These few days have been pretty marvellous and I am delighted as of now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was well spent with my lovely boyfriend. Shopping with the family on a Sunday really ended my week beautifully. I am pleased with what I bought; a Ted Baker dress, a Desigual dress (specially for the boyfriend who's madly in love with Desigual) and a pair of sandals from Forever 21. There were plenty of good deals I had trouble making a decision. Mum was such a sweetheart. She entertained my antics, shop to shop even though she wasn't as strong as before. She too, has been fulfilling her shopping desires. Not forgetting my annoying little sister who was ecstatic when Mum bought her dresses from Zara. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mum's health has been improving lately and we are all elated. I admire her for her bravery and courage to fight her illness that has been eating up her strength as the days passed by. Despite that, she stood strong, fighting for herself and the family. Dad on the other hand, whom I see as an inspiration. Broken into pieces when Mum was diagnosed with cancer, he still put up a brave front, facing this tragedy like any real man would. I've always loved the times when he'd sent me for my scholarship interviews. We'd have our private talk in the car; the only time I could really find out his real emotions. Dad is an amazing man. I've always looked up to him and I still do. I love seeing how my parents care for each other. If that's true love, I do not mind dying for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As of today, my day wasn't as blue as any Mondays should be. It was nice. I had a 'Me, myself and I' time upon waiting for Belly's arrival. The long bus ride from Bt Batok to town allowed me to do a little bit of self-reflection. I deliberately opted for bus because knowing Belly, she isn't someone who prioritizes punctuality and indeed I was right. She arrived an hour late. I should not whine because I managed to grab a pair of ALDO heels (drools at it) while waiting for Belly. :) Trust me, it is very rare for me to do my shopping alone. Honestly, being alone wasn't as bad as I thought and I'd really love to do that again some day. Dinner was marvellous, awesome food with the right company (Belly, Chantelle and boyfriend.) :) Lastly, my boyfriend has been really sweet to me these days. I have no idea what has gotten into him, but I'm loving every second of it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Cheers to more awesome days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;love nad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3599051384428652434?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3599051384428652434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3599051384428652434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/let-it-roll.html' title='Let it roll.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3902407317878302427</id><published>2011-07-03T01:18:00.006+06:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T01:32:32.985+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A lovely weekend can never make me any happier. Though my mood was dampened when my boyfriend took nearly a decade to reach. I couldn't bring myself to be mad because my heart immediately melted at the sight of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My day really picked up when he declared today was my day; which equates to...a pass to shopping endlessly, walk along the streets of Orchard Road without him whining and definitely have my way for almost everything. In actual fact, every dates have always been my way but I felt an extra tinge today just because he was more 'lovey-dovey' than the other days. Naturally, his sweet gestures were rewarded with plenty of hugs and kisses from me. *though I really think he showered me more with his kisses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I really loved today. It was simple yet memorable. From the heart-to-heart talk bus ride to town, having me going crazy over the cheap sales at the flea, the polaroid charity (loved the most!), getting excited over Ayam Penyet, the long walk to Dhoby Ghaut where we giggled our hearts out making fun of each other, the stuffy bus back home which broke down and left my boyfriend cursing, the train ride home and us giggling at people, nibbling on chocolate waffles as we walked back home and of course, to top it all off, his goodbye kiss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today has been absolutely wonderful and I could never ask for more. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624838859204391714" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nB4pNFbaCik/Tg9xJAmw8yI/AAAAAAAADZY/e5I5cD61Qm8/s320/267355_10150235040774775_739419774_7566163_2273617_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;He is a beautiful cliche, tall, dark and handsome with the eyes of an angel and the heart of a saint and he is a cliche because he is a boy and he doesn't realise I'm madly and insanely in love with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3902407317878302427?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3902407317878302427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3902407317878302427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/07/lovely-weekend-can-never-make-me-any.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nB4pNFbaCik/Tg9xJAmw8yI/AAAAAAAADZY/e5I5cD61Qm8/s72-c/267355_10150235040774775_739419774_7566163_2273617_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8705099525557110368</id><published>2011-06-30T00:29:00.007+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T12:40:52.859+06:00</updated><title type='text'>The ceremony of words that patched my misery.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Dear Nadzirah &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;NATIONAL RETAIL SCHOLARSHIP PROGRAMME - LETTER OF OFFER&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Congratulations! On behalf of the Singapore Retailers Association, Singapore Workforce Development Agency (WDA) and SPRING Singapore, it gives me great pleasure to inform you that you have been awarded the National Retail Scholarship 2011. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This scholarship will cover two years' tuition fees of your BA (Hons) in Retail Marketing course, 70% of which will be borne by WDA and SPRING Singapore, and the remaining 30% to be borne by your sponsor company. In addition, you will be provided a stipend of $19,200 (or $800 per month) to be paid out in 2 instalments, while you complete your degree course. Please note that you will have to serve a 2 years bond with your sponsor company upon graduation.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I clinched the scholarship! Days and nights of praying and that little faith I held on after I realized I screwed up big time in the last interview. Thank you God for you've enlightened my worries. Dad doesn't have to worry about my school fees and I do not have to slog so hard to satisfy my monthly shopping addictions cause with the $800, I literally can shop till I drop. Well of course, I'd not let the money flow rapidly. Thinking like a 21 year old should, the money shall be in my savings account for my rainy days. While I proudly say money is my least concern (just cause Dad told me I didn't have to worry about money at all), I'm more ecstatic about the bond. I'm on my way in achieving my goals, to be a buyer, merchandiser or a marketing director for fashion industries. I am really thankful to my parents, my favourite boy, my lovely girls; Ania, Chantelle and Sya for their encouragement and blessings. They are the reason for where I am today, to have achieve something that brought me nearer to my dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another great news. Mum went for her scanning yesterday and we were all overjoyed upon hearing her recovery from cancer. God, I don't know how else to thank you but I'll repay you, though I'm not a stringent Muslim (I'm still trying). Indeed, this tragedy is a blessing in disguise for I've found true friends (at which I've eliminated those pretentious ones), giving the boyfriend a chance to show what he's worth to the family (I proudly say my boy is part of the family now) and lastly, this test from God which brought me to a higher level of maturity. I am now stronger, emotionally and physically, well just cause I'm left with no other options except to stay strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For that one special boy I'm really in love with, who stood by me through my ups and downs, received me in open arms, kissed me on the forehead and assured me everything would be fine, I really love you Ashiq. I'm the luckiest girl to have you and I promise I'd love you unconditionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad this is all over and my family's back to normalcy. Time for smiles love, bury your sorrows away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8705099525557110368?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8705099525557110368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8705099525557110368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/ceremony-of-words-that-patched-my.html' title='The ceremony of words that patched my misery.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1619724386699962524</id><published>2011-06-29T23:54:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T00:08:33.846+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathe in the different air.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am perpetually restless and I decided to change (for the longest time, I had to endure my sister's whining on how dull the previous background looked) to a more cheerful outlook for my space. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh yes, I'm back. I realized I haven't been loyal to this space, thanks to tumblr, and because I was at a point in my life where my thoughts didn't really matter. While I find it compulsory to blog every minute of my life in detail in the yesteryears, I now feel that I lack vocabulary nor the patience to write about what I feel. Back in the years, I'd be enthralled, carried away by my thoughts, filling up the empty pages of my diary. My stories were real, some memorable while some allowed me to drown in my fears even up till date. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, I'm finally back. And happier than ever.I feel a lot more driven these days, and there's a different air about me. I don't write my posts for anyone but myself. Welcome back love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1619724386699962524?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1619724386699962524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1619724386699962524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/breathe-in-different-air.html' title='Breathe in the different air.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4570369905702203008</id><published>2011-06-26T22:19:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T22:21:03.202+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing else...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dear you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I can't tell you how thankful I am to have you cause the list will never end. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love you Muhammad Ashiq Hamid.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-4570369905702203008?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4570369905702203008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4570369905702203008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/nothing-else.html' title='Nothing else...'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1691559391631977754</id><published>2011-06-23T23:31:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T23:31:48.213+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's really sad cause you're still not convinced you're the one I really love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1691559391631977754?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1691559391631977754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1691559391631977754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-really-sad-cause-youre-still-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3237375527708954605</id><published>2011-06-23T23:14:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T23:31:04.119+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You'll know you've totally gotten over your ex when both of you are left to sit together, it feels so awkward and you pretend you're texting a friend.&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/6089712890504884678-3237375527708954605?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3237375527708954605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3237375527708954605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/youll-know-youve-totally-gotten-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7261982902917557053</id><published>2011-06-23T22:51:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T23:07:02.543+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dear you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'd love to run away. Far from everything. I didn't think I got it. I'm trying hard to keep the little faith left in me to keep me breathing. I'm dealing the rejection pretty well but the parents' not helping in any bit. Yea, Mum, Dad, sure I'm keeping my faith, but if I don't get it, it's not the end of my world at least right? Let it go already. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Getting rejected equates to more worries. In money sense, I'm pretty much screwed. Really, I have no idea how. The long walk I took which I thought would be of a great help in my thinking backfired me. I got disturbed by immatured annoying boys who certainly didn't have any respect for girls. Totally made my day worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If saying 'Fuck it' helps, I wouldn't mind chanting it the whole day. God, I'm not giving up but at least, give me a glimpse of hope. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;To you; A, I really wish I'm on the phone with you now. Just when I need you the most, you're not here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7261982902917557053?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7261982902917557053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7261982902917557053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/dear-you-id-love-to-run-away.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4686038603834598765</id><published>2011-06-23T22:50:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T22:51:13.445+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Times I wish when Saturdays are only meant for me and you.&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/6089712890504884678-4686038603834598765?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4686038603834598765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4686038603834598765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/times-i-wish-when-saturdays-are-only.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3073129133371638949</id><published>2011-06-23T22:40:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T22:49:34.794+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I felt so down the whole day today, though I tried hard to keep my emotions up for the sake of J, Marcus and Belly. Behind the smile of mine, I hid my misery, hoping my favourite boy would do the magic. I was wrong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've always expected too much. When will you ever learn Nad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3073129133371638949?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3073129133371638949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3073129133371638949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-felt-so-down-whole-day-today-though-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1186942793235424969</id><published>2011-06-23T22:11:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T22:36:55.045+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I miss you, I really do Ashiq. &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/6089712890504884678-1186942793235424969?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1186942793235424969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1186942793235424969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-miss-you-i-really-do-ashiq.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-985197634795373023</id><published>2011-06-23T00:02:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T00:05:18.103+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Guess I really lost it. I don't feel pretty anymore&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-985197634795373023?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/985197634795373023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/985197634795373023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/guess-i-really-lost-it-i-dont-feel.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4687526969803340950</id><published>2011-06-22T23:24:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T23:34:15.098+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When we're too used to each other, we tend to forget the littlest things that actually carved the smile on our faces&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-4687526969803340950?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4687526969803340950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4687526969803340950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/irony.html' title='Irony.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3686922864301125674</id><published>2011-06-15T23:51:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T00:29:48.387+06:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't have my say.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dear you; though I'm not too sure if there's anyone reading this space, except for the very one boy I'm so in love with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First and foremost, bear with me cause I foresee myself penning down my lengthy thoughts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've gotten my exam results and God, I must thank you for I've worked so hard. That aside, I got through 4 rounds of interview for my scholarship and I'm not really confident in the last interview. Sigh, I feel so miserable right after, well not to the extend of killing myself, but I guess you can say so. Trust me, it was that depressing knowing that your career is guaranteed upon graduation and you merely screwed up in the interview. Sad to say, I'm mentally prepared for disappointment. I'm really thankful I have very supportive friends like Ania and Chantelle whom I really love so much. Guess I'd still drown in sorrows up till now if not for their words of encouragement. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On a brighter note, Mum's recovering from her cancer. Dad, on the other hand, is having some financial difficulties. Mum's medical expenses, my little sis's surgery, my school fees and a million little things that weighs a lot on Dad's shoulders. Well, I wish I could do my part but I have no idea how to. In actual fact, I don't even know what I'm feeling. I feel so rushed, like a 40 year old trapped in a 20 year old body, having to worry about financial difficulties of the family and trying so hard to find alternatives to earn money. I wouldn't say I'll quit school because that is by the far, the most stupid thing to do but I thought of doing an internship. I'm not too sure if that's a good choice cause for one fact, I'd rather commit 100% in my studies. Thinking of these me feel like I'm forced to grow up. I have to worry about all these while my friends, prolly busy clubbing or having gatherings right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The boyfriend has been my pillar of support all these months and I'm so thankful for that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One thing for sure, I'm not the girl I used to be. Indeed, tragedies are a blessing in disguise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3686922864301125674?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3686922864301125674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3686922864301125674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-dont-have-my-say.html' title='I don&apos;t have my say.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8244986684794808874</id><published>2011-06-13T00:00:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T00:17:12.213+06:00</updated><title type='text'>My favourite boy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5w56zHmO-O0/TfUAHSsedhI/AAAAAAAADYY/MwlcHsD26eE/s1600/30511_394142354774_739419774_4246112_5003090_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 274px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617396235492029970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5w56zHmO-O0/TfUAHSsedhI/AAAAAAAADYY/MwlcHsD26eE/s320/30511_394142354774_739419774_4246112_5003090_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You've been my pillar of strength. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Life wouldn't be as wonderful and smooth-sailing without you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you for all the good times, your never ending support and of course, your unconditional love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Muhammad Ashiq, my favourite boy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8244986684794808874?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8244986684794808874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8244986684794808874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-favourite-boy.html' title='My favourite boy.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5w56zHmO-O0/TfUAHSsedhI/AAAAAAAADYY/MwlcHsD26eE/s72-c/30511_394142354774_739419774_4246112_5003090_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-687305120132938117</id><published>2011-06-12T23:18:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T23:41:49.601+06:00</updated><title type='text'>That time of the year, again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;They say troubles make you a better person. Sure it does. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I should prolly start living my days with my favourite boy's quote; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Life's a bitch."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dear you, my life's all messed up. Well, not really cause I'm still surviving. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I know Dad's having a hard time. I wish I could help but I can't even help myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The boyfriend has been such a great support but he has his problems too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Money is always the root of problems. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;God, I am not asking to be rich, I just wish for strength. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-687305120132938117?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/687305120132938117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/687305120132938117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/that-time-of-year-again.html' title='That time of the year, again.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3350724248693342565</id><published>2011-06-02T21:32:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T21:34:13.590+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I lost again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3350724248693342565?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3350724248693342565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3350724248693342565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-lost-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3572261209369509285</id><published>2011-05-31T00:18:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T00:29:43.345+06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dear you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm still awake at such an unearthly hour. My head still throbs like a motherfucker despite the 2 pills I've already popped in. Prolly must be the pressure of the interview. Sigh. It's so annoying when something doesn't go your way. I smoked my way through the interview earlier and I'm so sure I didn't do my best. Well, I just have to leave it that way. If it's meant to be mine, then it shall be. We shall just live with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On a brighter note, the boy and I are having our anniversary date tomorrow. We spell LION KING. Yup, you saw it. Gonna catch the 8pm show. Hope tomorrow will be a great day for us since we were on the rocks for the past week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I LOVE YOU ASHIQ, I REALLY DO. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3572261209369509285?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3572261209369509285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3572261209369509285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/05/dear-you-im-still-awake-at-such.html' title=''/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6554666666526303160</id><published>2011-04-18T21:50:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T22:13:59.039+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Times are hard but you kept me going.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last Friday didn't turn out pretty well. My boyfriend just had to endure with my moodswings and things just turned sour from there. Bad evening for a Friday.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And I thought hell ended when I got home. I was wrong. Mum had to rush to the hospital at such an unearthly hour because she was running an indeed, a high fever. Dad and I had to wait for hours till like 4am since Mum had to be under observation in the emergency ward. Yea, it was that bad.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At times, I just can't bring myself to be strong. I quit pretending cause it takes a lot out of me. The wait at the hospital just couldn't get any better when the ex-bf(whom my bf loathe so much) had to call me and whined how miserable life is without me. He was at the club. CLUB. You saw it, prolly dancing his ass off, claiming clubbing is his only medicine to forget me. Fuck you really.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Never ever whine about your life cause you have no idea what I am going through right now. And he texted about how he'd be there for me at the hospital instead of some club at that same night. What are you trying to prove? You talk a lot, no actions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Saturday wasn't any better. Plan was to stay in the hospital since Mum was warded while waiting for the bf to reach in the evening. But, as soon as I got there, my nose just had to be a bitch and Mum's doctor thought I was sick. My heart just fell cause I couldn't be there to take care of Mum. Mum's immune system is low after chemo so that explains everything yea? Right, I was so down, I cried prolly gallons of tears. Called the bf and got to his arms. How can I not love this boy?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sunday was a lot better since Saturday was well spent with the boyfriend. Bf did all the comforting so I could say, I was a bit stronger. Hospital again on a Sunday, together with bf, which brought us to a certain level. I love him more cause I know he's there for my family.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have no idea why I'm penning down these thoughts online, but I definitely feel a lot better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mum, please, get well soon. We all need you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6554666666526303160?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6554666666526303160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6554666666526303160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/04/times-are-hard-but-you-kept-me-going.html' title='Times are hard but you kept me going.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3913853058181193927</id><published>2011-03-29T22:56:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T23:13:53.749+06:00</updated><title type='text'>My story.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I left this space untouched. Thanks to tumblr. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And of course, school. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Besides, there's nothing much I can blog about as of now just cause I'm seriously tied down to tons of projects. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Speaking of which, it was pretty unlucky of me to be paired with well, I must say, a female dog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mundane life aside, I'm still pretty much in love with the same boy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's like you know, it's more than love when you don't get tired of hearing the same voice every night, even if you keep repeating the same lines every few minutes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is definitely love when you love smelling him even after he ended a long day of work and you'd walk to the end of the world just to see him smile. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ASHIQ.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2 years since we've been dating, and I still feel like it was yesterday.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3913853058181193927?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3913853058181193927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3913853058181193927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-left-this-space-untouched.html' title='My story.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8793882912878294661</id><published>2011-03-19T22:42:00.003+05:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T22:52:57.486+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Open chapters and closed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I don't love you like I used to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You asked if I'm sure I've moved on. I know I have because when you wanted me to say those three words to you, I couldn't. I tried but I can't, cause I don't feel the same way about you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For years, I've been waiting for that someone to help me forget you completely. And I've found him. I should prolly thank you because, if not for you, I'd never find someone like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashiq took over your place and he's here to stay. I'm sorry to say but he is the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8793882912878294661?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8793882912878294661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8793882912878294661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/03/open-chapters-and-closed.html' title='Open chapters and closed.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2778721403215674559</id><published>2011-01-25T21:38:00.003+05:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T21:50:28.034+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who do you think I am, seriously?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;All this time, I tried so hard to please everyone. And it got me thinking why I bothered in the first place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mum and Dad are a pain in my ass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bf's not helping me a bit. I had my facebook invaded, him getting upset over trivial things and being the typical me, trying so hard to make things right. I seriously am, trying so hard, to be the perfect girlfriend. But you know, fuck it, really. I am done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll do whatever I want, without anyone stopping me. I shall lose my limits and have myself say, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I REALLY DON'T GIVE A FUCK." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2778721403215674559?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2778721403215674559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2778721403215674559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/01/who-do-you-think-i-am-seriously.html' title='Who do you think I am, seriously?'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7382538611941647803</id><published>2011-01-20T02:37:00.002+05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T02:39:17.709+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Caught up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I forgot I have a blogspot. Blame Tumblr. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lalalalalalalala, I'm still in love with A. Always will, nothing will change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7382538611941647803?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7382538611941647803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7382538611941647803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2011/01/caught-up.html' title='Caught up.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3279093127189224974</id><published>2010-11-20T23:02:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T23:03:45.174+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Addict.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now I'm caught up with Tumblr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3279093127189224974?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3279093127189224974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3279093127189224974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/11/addict.html' title='Addict.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5865117842278543039</id><published>2010-11-19T22:16:00.001+05:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T22:20:04.683+05:00</updated><title type='text'>madewithvanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've got tumblr. Next, formspring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love nad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5865117842278543039?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5865117842278543039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5865117842278543039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/11/madewithvanity.html' title='madewithvanity'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-438212624408129599</id><published>2010-11-18T21:37:00.001+05:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T21:38:35.251+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Switch.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm actually thinking of Tumblr. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Love nad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-438212624408129599?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/438212624408129599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/438212624408129599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/11/switch.html' title='Switch.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1611487368667339519</id><published>2010-11-16T20:34:00.003+05:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T20:41:05.124+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Days Gone By - Gavin Mikhail</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;To my favourite boy, Ash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll always remember your favourite song baby. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"I miss you everytime."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll remember our little bits of moments we shared. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Love nad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1611487368667339519?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1611487368667339519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1611487368667339519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/11/days-gone-by-gavin-mikhail.html' title='Days Gone By - Gavin Mikhail'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6490690102263408473</id><published>2010-11-02T21:06:00.002+05:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T21:13:13.130+05:00</updated><title type='text'>How many decades already?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Blog's untouched, been decades. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Life's the usual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Up and down, what's new right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Except the fact that I've been whining alot about my studies lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seriously, being in Uni is a bitch, but yea yea, so they say, it's for a brighter future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Shall not talk much, blogging's like....so old school isn't it? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That aside, yes, I'm still in love with Ashiq :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TNA3k8UlaOI/AAAAAAAADXY/aDT4ErRlGSg/s1600/62142_435699689774_739419774_5284625_7600552_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534985049845623010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TNA3k8UlaOI/AAAAAAAADXY/aDT4ErRlGSg/s320/62142_435699689774_739419774_5284625_7600552_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6490690102263408473?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6490690102263408473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6490690102263408473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/11/how-many-decades-already.html' title='How many decades already?'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TNA3k8UlaOI/AAAAAAAADXY/aDT4ErRlGSg/s72-c/62142_435699689774_739419774_5284625_7600552_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6847255728286751110</id><published>2010-09-16T21:54:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T22:16:13.180+06:00</updated><title type='text'>That's for reminding me how much I'm into Chinese boys. Oh wells.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bryan says:&lt;br /&gt;Nutttt. I see you are crazily in love? But why Malay? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;since when you like malay guy?&lt;br /&gt;why not chinese guy? HAHA&lt;br /&gt;or have yr taste changed huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nadzirah ZulElias says:&lt;br /&gt;still into chinese boys. BUT..i can't marry a chinese.&lt;br /&gt;but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;can't marry.&lt;br /&gt;you got gf not?&lt;br /&gt;or no one wants you?&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bryan says:&lt;br /&gt;hahah.&lt;br /&gt;speaking of that.&lt;br /&gt;ive been waiting for u ever since u are with joel and you know that&lt;br /&gt;and now u are with a fucking malay&lt;br /&gt;you cheebye. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nadzirah ZulElias says:&lt;br /&gt;bryan, dont cheat my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;fuck you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bryan says:&lt;br /&gt;awww.&lt;br /&gt;you have no idea how much i miss yr fuck you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nadzirah ZulElias says:&lt;br /&gt;FUCK YOU.&lt;br /&gt;i hate you forever and nothing will change tht asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6847255728286751110?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6847255728286751110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6847255728286751110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/09/thats-for-reminding-me-how-much-im-into.html' title='That&apos;s for reminding me how much I&apos;m into Chinese boys. Oh wells.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3597625680004811138</id><published>2010-09-01T21:43:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T21:48:16.355+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Promises I'll keep.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I promise I'd stay by your side through your ups and downs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I promise I'd push you because I see your potential in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I promise my parents will shut up at the end of the day and say, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Ashiq is really the one for you."&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/6089712890504884678-3597625680004811138?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3597625680004811138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3597625680004811138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/09/promises-ill-keep.html' title='Promises I&apos;ll keep.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6536168948631701195</id><published>2010-08-29T00:25:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T00:25:49.869+06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's 20?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm a 20 year old dealing with real girl problems. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6536168948631701195?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6536168948631701195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6536168948631701195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/08/whats-20.html' title='What&apos;s 20?'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4126298170056544310</id><published>2010-08-25T21:58:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T22:11:03.401+06:00</updated><title type='text'>2 at the front.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On the 23rd of August, I turned 20. I had an epiphany. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/THU-fJd_thI/AAAAAAAADXI/4Bck16m1bvA/s1600/41153_423261499774_739419774_5011113_6713800_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509378423996266002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/THU-fJd_thI/AAAAAAAADXI/4Bck16m1bvA/s320/41153_423261499774_739419774_5011113_6713800_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-4126298170056544310?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4126298170056544310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4126298170056544310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/08/2-at-front.html' title='2 at the front.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/THU-fJd_thI/AAAAAAAADXI/4Bck16m1bvA/s72-c/41153_423261499774_739419774_5011113_6713800_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-398408611372234692</id><published>2010-08-20T21:44:00.000+06:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T21:45:56.484+06:00</updated><title type='text'>One, two, three.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TG6i4q7efWI/AAAAAAAADW4/v2YCUgmdH4c/s1600/tumblr_l3hbm33vqK1qzuhd2o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 215px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507518488800820578" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TG6i4q7efWI/AAAAAAAADW4/v2YCUgmdH4c/s320/tumblr_l3hbm33vqK1qzuhd2o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;If this ain't love, I don't know what love is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Ashiq.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-398408611372234692?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/398408611372234692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/398408611372234692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/08/one-two-three.html' title='One, two, three.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TG6i4q7efWI/AAAAAAAADW4/v2YCUgmdH4c/s72-c/tumblr_l3hbm33vqK1qzuhd2o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1510116045512132355</id><published>2010-08-07T23:14:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T23:18:49.923+06:00</updated><title type='text'>And so I must say.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Time flies. Here I am, life's the same, no, i'm happier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm still a Ferragamo girl, he's still a policeman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm loving him, he's loving me and that's all that matters now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TF2U9H6IuII/AAAAAAAADWw/jQtf79HIWd8/s1600/DSC00071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502718097532434562" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TF2U9H6IuII/AAAAAAAADWw/jQtf79HIWd8/s320/DSC00071.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TF2UpJJ3pvI/AAAAAAAADWo/ZLiUhV6S2CQ/s1600/DSC00072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502717754269476594" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TF2UpJJ3pvI/AAAAAAAADWo/ZLiUhV6S2CQ/s320/DSC00072.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1510116045512132355?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1510116045512132355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1510116045512132355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/08/and-so-i-must-say.html' title='And so I must say.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TF2U9H6IuII/AAAAAAAADWw/jQtf79HIWd8/s72-c/DSC00071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3642050826456332364</id><published>2010-06-25T12:03:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T12:23:34.365+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mum, Dad. I can never ask for more.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;You made me the happiest girl on earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TCRKOjMKGHI/AAAAAAAADWg/XYRNiXvaSdo/s1600/DSC00030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486591859868964978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TCRKOjMKGHI/AAAAAAAADWg/XYRNiXvaSdo/s320/DSC00030.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TCRJ3AMVz_I/AAAAAAAADWY/6EKTDz5hPeI/s1600/DSC00029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486591455337500658" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TCRJ3AMVz_I/AAAAAAAADWY/6EKTDz5hPeI/s320/DSC00029.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3642050826456332364?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3642050826456332364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3642050826456332364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/06/mum-dad-i-can-never-ask-for-more.html' title='Mum, Dad. I can never ask for more.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TCRKOjMKGHI/AAAAAAAADWg/XYRNiXvaSdo/s72-c/DSC00030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4311519150207173913</id><published>2010-06-19T23:29:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T23:36:57.058+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is work.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Working everyday. No life? Tell me all about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484539772044851746" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TBz_3UU8OiI/AAAAAAAADWQ/TDlPVFlK4AA/s320/30661_398691529774_739419774_4375376_554646_n.jpg" /&gt;But, baby's such a sweetheart. That pretty make my days beautiful.&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/6089712890504884678-4311519150207173913?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4311519150207173913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4311519150207173913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/06/life-is-work.html' title='Life is work.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TBz_3UU8OiI/AAAAAAAADWQ/TDlPVFlK4AA/s72-c/30661_398691529774_739419774_4375376_554646_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8224104447775764543</id><published>2010-06-15T22:21:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T22:31:50.162+06:00</updated><title type='text'>You were worth the truth, the only reason why I didn't lie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm 20. Not 25. I'm your girlfriend. Not your wife. My parents don't control who I'm out with. So, ask yourself now. Who are you to me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The truth and be faithful. To lie and be unfaithful. You choose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;MY WORLD DOESN'T REVOLVE AROUND YOU.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Get that in your head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love you. And I don't see any point in lying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8224104447775764543?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8224104447775764543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8224104447775764543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/06/ou-you-were-worth-truth-only-reason-why.html' title='You were worth the truth, the only reason why I didn&apos;t lie.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-646608800000411250</id><published>2010-06-09T23:20:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T23:25:05.474+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Says the boyfriend.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Baby, you work too much. Not that I don't like it, but you get really cranky when you're tired. The victim is me. And your friends, do you realise you're drifting apart from them?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well okay baby, if you say so. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-646608800000411250?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/646608800000411250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/646608800000411250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/06/says-boyfriend.html' title='Says the boyfriend.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-3831794788071583701</id><published>2010-06-02T23:17:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T00:40:40.153+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TAald6kLMeI/AAAAAAAADWI/QjQoA2_cva0/s1600/GetAttachment%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478247930098561506" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TAald6kLMeI/AAAAAAAADWI/QjQoA2_cva0/s320/GetAttachment%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-3831794788071583701?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3831794788071583701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/3831794788071583701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/06/happy-enough.html' title='Just you.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TAald6kLMeI/AAAAAAAADWI/QjQoA2_cva0/s72-c/GetAttachment%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1557787755013366875</id><published>2010-06-01T23:13:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T23:24:11.955+06:00</updated><title type='text'>My dictionary is you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Honey, I love you. I really do. My friends love you too. That's what I like about you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1557787755013366875?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1557787755013366875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1557787755013366875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-dictionary-is-you.html' title='My dictionary is you.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-576923066814551686</id><published>2010-05-31T22:44:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T00:52:22.714+06:00</updated><title type='text'>I love you A.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TAQFBEkK4sI/AAAAAAAADWA/AHKjLDsp3Z4/s1600/DSC08726.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477508562752824002" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TAQFBEkK4sI/AAAAAAAADWA/AHKjLDsp3Z4/s320/DSC08726.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Baby, how far can your patience go? Because everything I do, even if it makes you unhappy, you'd just smile and say, I still love you.&lt;/span&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/6089712890504884678-576923066814551686?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/576923066814551686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/576923066814551686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-love-you.html' title='I love you A.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xd0xmYTFez8/TAQFBEkK4sI/AAAAAAAADWA/AHKjLDsp3Z4/s72-c/DSC08726.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5137800774604014045</id><published>2010-05-27T23:29:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T23:32:30.074+06:00</updated><title type='text'>The only thing Ferragamo associates want to hear.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Dear customers, thank you for shopping at Takashimaya. We're closing in 15 minutes time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And then we all go........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;YESSSSSAAAAAAAA!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7 straight days of full shift. Every day..ending at 2am. 4 more days to go. And I'm half dead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5137800774604014045?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5137800774604014045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5137800774604014045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/only-thing-ferragamo-associates-want-to.html' title='The only thing Ferragamo associates want to hear.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7733626273271527355</id><published>2010-05-22T23:43:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T23:50:51.053+06:00</updated><title type='text'>My cup of tea.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I realised I have fetish for boys with family problems or brought up by a single parent. I hope it's not weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;hey just have something in them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That one thing that makes them special; MATURITY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7733626273271527355?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7733626273271527355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7733626273271527355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-cup-of-tea.html' title='My cup of tea.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2655010877989270034</id><published>2010-05-21T23:29:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T23:30:40.339+06:00</updated><title type='text'>You're not just my boyfriend.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When I'm down, you bring me into your world and make a difference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2655010877989270034?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2655010877989270034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2655010877989270034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/youre-not-just-my-boyfriend.html' title='You&apos;re not just my boyfriend.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6347713092893364257</id><published>2010-05-20T23:56:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T23:59:28.292+06:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't wanna do this.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Graduation ceremony's  tomorrow. No, I'm not looking forward to it, because J and I, we're no longer together. And that wasn't what we planned 2 years ago. We were supposed to graduate together, still a couple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6347713092893364257?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6347713092893364257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6347713092893364257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/graduations-day-tomorrow.html' title='I don&apos;t wanna do this.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7234546242693868147</id><published>2010-05-19T21:33:00.000+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T21:34:05.230+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spells A.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tick tock, tick tock. I am so in love with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7234546242693868147?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7234546242693868147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7234546242693868147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/spells.html' title='Spells A.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-857443425438169385</id><published>2010-05-18T23:35:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T23:54:38.998+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sure you do hun.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Baby, we'll do this together okay? Stop smoking."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-857443425438169385?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/857443425438169385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/857443425438169385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/sure-you-do-hun.html' title='Sure you do hun.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-244948516154118688</id><published>2010-05-17T21:46:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T21:47:58.205+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk about my feelings.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I feel the &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;HAPPIEST&lt;/span&gt; at work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I feel the &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;SADDEST&lt;/span&gt; at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-244948516154118688?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/244948516154118688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/244948516154118688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/talk-about-my-feelings.html' title='Talk about my feelings.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8248331560414799965</id><published>2010-05-16T21:56:00.001+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T22:00:08.238+06:00</updated><title type='text'>So that's how it is.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mr Policeman and Ms Ferragamo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8248331560414799965?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8248331560414799965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8248331560414799965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/so-thats-how-it-is.html' title='So that&apos;s how it is.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4963410687140037237</id><published>2010-05-14T22:59:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T23:16:27.683+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Because...Home is hell. I wish I am joking, but I'm not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I hate home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I hate family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; If I only think of myself, I'd not be home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-4963410687140037237?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4963410687140037237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4963410687140037237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/because.html' title='Because...Home is hell. I wish I am joking, but I&apos;m not.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-7858500007449026655</id><published>2010-05-11T21:49:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T22:07:38.767+06:00</updated><title type='text'>The difference between your boyfriend and mine.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Your boyfriend makes you a heart with lighted candles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My boyfriend makes me a heart with lighted ciggarettes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Boyfriend? I haven't said yes yet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-7858500007449026655?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7858500007449026655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/7858500007449026655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/difference-between-your-boyfriend-and.html' title='The difference between your boyfriend and mine.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-2535274323511819426</id><published>2010-05-10T22:06:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T22:11:15.236+06:00</updated><title type='text'>In honesty.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Botanic Garden with Ballboy. A definite awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-2535274323511819426?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2535274323511819426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/2535274323511819426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/in-honesty.html' title='In honesty.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1618349594291456576</id><published>2010-05-08T23:25:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T23:27:01.049+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sat a day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Because Saturday was awesome. I miss Ballboy.  A lot. Monday, hurry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1618349594291456576?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1618349594291456576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1618349594291456576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/sat-day.html' title='Sat a day.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1398019211257889641</id><published>2010-05-07T21:41:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T21:42:19.740+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ballboy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Come Monday, Botanic Gardens with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1398019211257889641?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1398019211257889641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1398019211257889641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/ballboy.html' title='Ballboy.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-4073260780652234320</id><published>2010-05-06T20:25:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T20:41:05.216+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home is hell.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If given a choice, I wouldn't want to go home. Home is where my heart break into pieces. Where there's heat in every corner of the house. I don't know who to hate now but for all I know, I'm purely disgusted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I wish I'm heartless enough to be selfish to this thing call 'family'. I have my little sister to think of. If I'm the only child, things would be a lot easier on my part. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Pack up and leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last request. I like seeing people get reunited.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-4073260780652234320?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4073260780652234320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/4073260780652234320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/home-is-hell.html' title='Home is hell.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-5159178928058907985</id><published>2010-05-05T20:34:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T20:42:00.659+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Screw this.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Divorce letters? Totally not what I want to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Throughout this bumpy road I've been facing, all I wanna say is, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I really really love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;AKID NADIY, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MUHAMMAD ASH &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;AND &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;CHANTELLE CK. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-5159178928058907985?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5159178928058907985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/5159178928058907985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/screw-this.html' title='Screw this.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1612502337823343573</id><published>2010-05-03T22:36:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T22:44:44.632+06:00</updated><title type='text'>2 at once.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At 5.30, Ash was already outside waiting for my release. Near 6, my guy friend gave me a surprise and he wanted to bring me out for dinner. I think I forgot to mention I hate surprise visits because, for one simple reason, it'll backfire the other boy. Why would anyone think I'd choose to go out with the other boy and leave Ash?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was sweet though, on your part. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1612502337823343573?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1612502337823343573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1612502337823343573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/2-at-once.html' title='2 at once.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-720631209192470099</id><published>2010-05-02T20:48:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T21:02:11.615+06:00</updated><title type='text'>When you talk about quality shoes, talk Ferragamo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was planning to get a proper pair of working shoes since Great Singapore Sale is around the corner and I've been warned by my colleauges about how deadly life can get without a proper pair of shoes during the GSS period.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A black leather shoe with beautiful heels caught my attention and it was super costly for working shoes (according to Mum) . Just a little bit costly on my part because, really, seeing $790 shoes every day make you realise a $99 shoe is nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-720631209192470099?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/720631209192470099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/720631209192470099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-you-talk-about-quality-shoes-talk.html' title='When you talk about quality shoes, talk Ferragamo.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-1559047707645787102</id><published>2010-04-30T23:34:00.003+06:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T23:52:50.938+06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm the happiest girl alive. As of right now.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Life is kind. Thank you Nadiy and Ash. I love you both, my amazing friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-1559047707645787102?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1559047707645787102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/1559047707645787102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/04/im-easy-to-please.html' title='I&apos;m the happiest girl alive. As of right now.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-8742707226038788564</id><published>2010-04-29T23:35:00.002+06:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T23:42:26.409+06:00</updated><title type='text'>Done with dramas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm done pleasing boys at the same time. Trying to find excuses to one to please the other. My emotions are so drained right now. Let me make myself clear, I'm only in love with one. As for you, you're my history, my ex. So, quit raking up the past. Having the best of both worlds is pretty exhausting. I surrender. I'll keep Ash but I'll let go of you H.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-8742707226038788564?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8742707226038788564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/8742707226038788564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/04/done-with-dramas.html' title='Done with dramas.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089712890504884678.post-6541352796062179460</id><published>2010-04-28T20:38:00.004+06:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T21:03:14.614+06:00</updated><title type='text'>My list of farks.FARKING ANNOYING PEOPLE.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Just today itself, I've got calls and messages from whom I call, friends whom I've not been contacting for ages. Reasons they call that absolutely spoilt my farking day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And they have their ways on starting a conversation, like.. "Hi babe, how have you been doing? I hope you're good."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And those farking reasons when I said, "What is it? Go straight to the point."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1) Do you have cash to spare? I'm in need of cash now. (you're a farking boy mind you.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2) Heard you're single now, are you fine? Just so you know, I'm here for you. (seriously, what the fark.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3) I'm running a business and I'm looking for a partner. And I think you're the right one. (fark off. And you can't farking tell me the benefits of joining the business.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4) I miss you so much. *Awkward silence* Ummm..can you do me a favour? (yeah, sure. Like hanging up on you? My pleasure.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5) Eh, did I just saw you at Ferragamo? You're working there?! Hmm. Not bad. Can get discount? (fark off luh.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNNLJCB.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And lastly, FACEBOOK'S ACTING LIKE A FARKING BITCH NOW. That kinda sums up my day. FARK. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089712890504884678-6541352796062179460?l=fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6541352796062179460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089712890504884678/posts/default/6541352796062179460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fathomthisvanity.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-list-of-farksfarking-annoying-people.html' title='My list of farks.FARKING ANNOYING PEOPLE.'/><author><name>Nadz Zul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10358634970793851718</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GDpbG9btnK8/TgtlPipQzRI/AAAAAAAADYo/tBeIu1u7azg/s220/6376_103659394774_739419774_2183413_5630898_n.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
