<?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-7485860667236815190</id><updated>2011-07-30T22:54:31.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Burn, I Pine, I Perish</title><subtitle type='html'>Candorness might be cruel but it's way more interesting</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-7465035081353384379</id><published>2009-09-26T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T04:08:06.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Alright, It's OK</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sr30b0DBhoI/AAAAAAAAAi0/7PrvVZyecOo/s1600-h/DSC_2188.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sr30b0DBhoI/AAAAAAAAAi0/7PrvVZyecOo/s320/DSC_2188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385729488069953154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;So my Raya was sort of OK this year. Who knew?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to my divorced parentage, I never had a decent Raya since I was 7. So the thought of a cheerful Raya this year never crossed my mind. It already arrived to a point where I actually don't see the joy of Raya. My plan was to get my money and hit Pavie for some shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day was alright. I hung out with my cousins at my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;grandma's house&lt;/span&gt;. Then we went to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Raub&lt;/span&gt; to meet my stepdad's family. I didn't enjoy myself too much there. After the 2nd house, I got tired. I'm not a big fan of house hoping....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;PakSu's house&lt;/span&gt;. Raya started to get better when I was there. My cousins and I played &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51);"&gt;Taboo&lt;/span&gt; which is a modern game of charades. We had so much fun and we laughed like there was no tomorrow. The best part was when all the adults played too. Try to imagine the whole house playing charades. It was priceless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was straight to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Kedah&lt;/span&gt; to meet up with my stepdad's best friend and his family. We stayed over their house and moved on to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Penang&lt;/span&gt; for some relaxation time. I met &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Hardin&lt;/span&gt; at Penang which was awesome. We didn't get to hang out long but it was nice to see one of my sayangs. After Penang we went to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;N9&lt;/span&gt; where Auntie Shasha's family house was. It was so damn near to KMM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Nilai&lt;/span&gt; to sleepover at Auntie Shasha's house. Then it was finally back to KL. Tiring? Hell yeah! But I had a blast. The roadtrip part made my Raya. Now Nelly and Naufal are practically my siblings. To see my whole Raya picture album, &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=146672&amp;amp;id=690696564&amp;amp;l=83afc96331"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;click here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, my raya was OK.  How about yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Banging to the beats of: Switch by Ashley Tisdale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chou&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-7465035081353384379?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/7465035081353384379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-alright-its-ok.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/7465035081353384379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/7465035081353384379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-alright-its-ok.html' title='It&apos;s Alright, It&apos;s OK'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sr30b0DBhoI/AAAAAAAAAi0/7PrvVZyecOo/s72-c/DSC_2188.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-7964660727326430498</id><published>2009-09-03T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T06:35:43.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramadhan Workouts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sp_EoeQ5g0I/AAAAAAAAAiE/6xfa_kV5j7A/s1600-h/DSC01338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sp_EoeQ5g0I/AAAAAAAAAiE/6xfa_kV5j7A/s320/DSC01338.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377232679701414722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;It's all in the wrist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I know that it's fasting month and energy is drained from your body faster than you can say "&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Hunger! Oh the the hunger!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;". But today after many invitation from others, Tiqa and I went to &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;Astaka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; for some '&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#990000;"&gt;riadah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;' time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zhi Hui, Tien, Ifwat and Qayyum were busy playing doubles in the tennis court. It was weird to see Ifwat using his basketball skills while playing tennis. It was funny to see Qayyum making faces everytime he misses a shot. It was hilarious to see both of them get beat up by 2 girls. But hey, Zhi Hui and Tien are &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#666666;"&gt;Kakom silver medalist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiqa and I decided to give basketball a try. Mind you, I meticulous watched my sayangs play every game during Kakom and I know all their individual tricks by heart. But never did I thought of actually playing with them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though Aiman says he can't teach, but when it comes to basketball, &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993300;"&gt;he's wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. He taught Tiqa and I to shoot and dribble. After passing the shooting stage, he taught me how to do a '&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000099;"&gt;layout&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;'. Its a two step move where you vertically shoot the ball up and the momentum would miraculously take it into the hoop. After many attempts, I managed to do it once. Aiman was patient the whole way, correcting my mistakes and improving my skills. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't believe I'm actually complimenting Aiman in the cyber world..... You're welcome sweetheart!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sp_FMOnXo7I/AAAAAAAAAiM/WhatUCs1eoE/s1600-h/DSC01333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sp_FMOnXo7I/AAAAAAAAAiM/WhatUCs1eoE/s320/DSC01333.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377233293975987122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After watching the boys play a couple of rounds, smack talking in court and learning that Aiman 2 (there was another Aiman in court) is actually an awesome player, we went our separate ways. I then headed back, took a long cold shower and ate dinner with my roommates. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a cool day and my arms are starting to regain its muscular shape. I'm so gonna beat your biceps Elle! Look out! :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Drowning in the symphonies of: Elevator love by Guy Sebastian&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hasta Luego!&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/7485860667236815190-7964660727326430498?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/7964660727326430498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/09/ramadhan-workouts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/7964660727326430498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/7964660727326430498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/09/ramadhan-workouts.html' title='Ramadhan Workouts'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sp_EoeQ5g0I/AAAAAAAAAiE/6xfa_kV5j7A/s72-c/DSC01338.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-9162348198179680864</id><published>2009-08-29T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T07:56:03.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner At Twilight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Happy Ramadhan everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So its finally &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;fasting month&lt;/span&gt;. Which mean early morning breakfast and twilight dinners. I didn't struggle the first day because I haven't been eating much since I was admitted to the hospital. After I got out, my lack of appetite continued so now during the fasting month, excruciating hunger rarely inhibits me. But I have to say, it is kind of tiring. Your energy drains faster than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to know the fun thing of this past fasting week? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;It's breaking fast with my friends&lt;/span&gt;. I rotate around a lot. A day with my awesome roommates, a day with Tiqa, a day with my sayangs. Maybe starting next week I'll break fast with my lectures friends or people of the same block like Elle, Syud or Azra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back home this Merdeka weekend. I'm meeting up with my high school friends tomorrow for dinner. One of my friends called me up and told me that she wants this dinner to be like my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;17th birthday party&lt;/span&gt; last year. It was held at &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;TGI Fridays&lt;/span&gt; at Pavillion. It took me like 2 weeks to plan it out, think of a theme, print out the invitations and book the restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Spk_MUjMdcI/AAAAAAAAAhk/wttsx29Em9A/s1600-h/l_69891a4d1deed2a0340bcaf377324e2c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Spk_MUjMdcI/AAAAAAAAAhk/wttsx29Em9A/s320/l_69891a4d1deed2a0340bcaf377324e2c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375397111150704066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SplAS7cg-tI/AAAAAAAAAhs/UkFA4ALtBAE/s1600-h/l_2be1540006da65520ab28bf81c558300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SplAS7cg-tI/AAAAAAAAAhs/UkFA4ALtBAE/s320/l_2be1540006da65520ab28bf81c558300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375398324182514386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe its one of the best experiences I have ever went through. It was just me and my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;20 closes friends&lt;/span&gt;. That time, we weren't divided by our cliques like in high school. I was a universal girl back then and befriends with everyone from different cliques. So when it came time for my party, I wanted to invite everyone. Thankfully all of them could tolerate each other regardless of the fact that they came from different circles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The theme was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;preppy&lt;/span&gt;. So technically all of us were prancing around Pavie after our meal looking like a bunch of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;elite prim east side girls&lt;/span&gt;. I got the idea for the theme from a book called &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Private by Kate Brian&lt;/span&gt;. The cover of the book was actually my inspiration. I love to wear cashmere sweaters, polo tees and oxford shirts under knitted tops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Spk-WdWh0SI/AAAAAAAAAhU/r5JrJiUyiZc/s1600-h/private3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Spk-WdWh0SI/AAAAAAAAAhU/r5JrJiUyiZc/s320/private3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375396185800560930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope all of you have a great weekend and&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt; happy fasting&lt;/span&gt;! I can't wait to eat my pizza for sahor.... hahaha....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;Drowning in the symphonies of: It's gonna be me by N'SYNC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta Leugo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-9162348198179680864?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/9162348198179680864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/08/dinner-at-twilight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/9162348198179680864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/9162348198179680864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/08/dinner-at-twilight.html' title='Dinner At Twilight'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Spk_MUjMdcI/AAAAAAAAAhk/wttsx29Em9A/s72-c/l_69891a4d1deed2a0340bcaf377324e2c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-5589107491720538170</id><published>2009-08-14T01:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T06:24:13.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curtain Call</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SoVkVHBtCAI/AAAAAAAAAgc/EdzgYi05OQo/s1600-h/Copy+of+DSC01198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SoVkVHBtCAI/AAAAAAAAAgc/EdzgYi05OQo/s320/Copy+of+DSC01198.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369808444535408642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Being a master of ceremony is awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So honestly when I first discovered that i was to become the MC for the closing ceremony of the english carnival, the first thing that went trough my head was:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;" Me? Handling a hall full of people? For real?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after going through it, I kind of loved it. Plus I got to do it with my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;best friend&lt;/span&gt; which made the experience more exciting. My happy phase started on Thursday which was the day my class drama would be performing, competing with another 4 dramas. I came to watch and support my drama. I was the scriptwriter so my job was limited. But when I got there, I ended up being the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;stage manager, acting coach and sound engineer&lt;/span&gt;. Try juggling that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our drama went out fine, it wasn't as smooth as I wanted it to be but it worked out great. The director froze minutes before the opening which made me take the reigns. I was literally shouting and cussing at the back of the stage, making sure everything and everyone was in place. The cast was awesome and I'm so proud of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rehearsal for the final ceremony was on Friday. I bonded with the cast and crew of&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; 1950's Sacrificial Love&lt;/span&gt;. I knew almost all of them but I got to know them more that day. It was fun, going back stage, telling everyone they look adorable with their costumes. Their drama itself even made me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;cry&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The actual night was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;nerve racking&lt;/span&gt; at first. I hanged out back stage with the cast of 1950's Sacrificial Love. Being near my friends helped me calm down. An funny conversations came up when I was back there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Shana: I really want you guys to win the competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zhi Hui: What makes us better than the other drama?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shana: The boys of your drama are more good looking....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and boys. But i did get a chance to interview &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;Jol&lt;/span&gt; on stage which increased his market value tremendously.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt; Girls are going gaga over him&lt;/span&gt;. You're welcome Jol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SoVkbyhld8I/AAAAAAAAAgk/BOSTb_ys98U/s1600-h/DSC01184.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SoVkbyhld8I/AAAAAAAAAgk/BOSTb_ys98U/s320/DSC01184.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369808559291070402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;-Jol &amp;amp; Zhi Hui-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole ceremony went well thanks to the great coordination of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Mr Redza&lt;/span&gt;. After working with him, now I know why people say he is an&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; awesome teacher&lt;/span&gt;. The drama Metamorphosis won the drama competition, which made Mr Redza even more proud cause its his class. If there was an awards for best villain/comedian, Abang Mar (the devil) would totally win. He was hilarious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SoVkgMkWNxI/AAAAAAAAAgs/JRvRZoKFbdY/s1600-h/DSC01190.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SoVkgMkWNxI/AAAAAAAAAgs/JRvRZoKFbdY/s320/DSC01190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369808635001452306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333399;"&gt;-Abang Mar, the devil-&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All and all, I had so much fun. English Carnival was the bomb and i enjoyed every minute of it. Thanks to Tiqa for helping me be the MC of the closing ceremony and thanks to Mr Redza for giving us the chance and for organizing an amazing event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Drowning in the symphonies of: What if by Ashley Tisdale&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta Luego!&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/7485860667236815190-5589107491720538170?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/5589107491720538170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/08/curtain-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/5589107491720538170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/5589107491720538170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/08/curtain-call.html' title='Curtain Call'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SoVkVHBtCAI/AAAAAAAAAgc/EdzgYi05OQo/s72-c/Copy+of+DSC01198.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-9211814573664653014</id><published>2009-07-30T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T09:53:43.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End Of Our Journey: Doleful Trip Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the 3rd post. Go back down to read my Kakom experience from the beginning. Thanks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;It had to end somewhere but it ended with a BANG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Kakom had to end, right? It was sad. I felt it first thing Wednesday morning. I slept at 4.30am and woke up at 6.30am. That night, I hung out with some of the&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt; futsal players&lt;/span&gt;. We chatted for like 2 hours. We had to control the loudness of our laughter because everyone else was asleep. It was fun cause I'm not close with the futsal players and that night i realized who they really are. They are actually pretty &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;awesome guys&lt;/span&gt; with a great sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pretty quite in the bus. We passed through Perlis and got to see just how natural that state is. The never ending sugar cane plantation was magnificent. When we arrived at &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Gua Kelam&lt;/span&gt;, it started to rain. Zhi Hui joked that the cave would be flooded and we would all die. The she asked me if I drowned, which of the basketball players would save me first. I actually do have a clear answer in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gua Kelam was interesting. There is so much history to it. The funny part was when Fong Lin translated some of the chinese words that were written on the walls of the caves and it says something like "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;I miss my girlfriend&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SnHN62Kg2KI/AAAAAAAAAf0/b2Zz2uOpzVY/s1600-h/DSC01018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SnHN62Kg2KI/AAAAAAAAAf0/b2Zz2uOpzVY/s320/DSC01018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364295042030688418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Padang Besar&lt;/span&gt;. The stuff there are like super cheap and the knock offs are of very high quality. Seriously, i can tell if a handbag is original or not and the stuff at Padang Besar are pretty damn close. But I just bought myself a rocker t-shirt (it only cost 10 bucks, I should have bought 8).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SnHOMo5_GRI/AAAAAAAAAf8/OhblYiJgze8/s1600-h/DSC01062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SnHOMo5_GRI/AAAAAAAAAf8/OhblYiJgze8/s320/DSC01062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364295347709352210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lunch at Jo Cendol Pulut was great. I haven't had cendol in a long time. Plus Zhi Hui, Tien, Aiman and I had great conversations together. The &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 102, 51);"&gt;mee kuah &lt;/span&gt;was to die for. Honestly! Thanks Cikgu Azman for a superb lunch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SnHPHmIVY1I/AAAAAAAAAgE/_m9jjRqM2UQ/s1600-h/DSC01065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SnHPHmIVY1I/AAAAAAAAAgE/_m9jjRqM2UQ/s320/DSC01065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364296360576508754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the ride home was pretty agonizing. No there was no problem with the air conditioning but something messed up my emotions on the bus. Oddly enough, Aiman was the one that soothed my temperamental emotions. It made me realize that he has a heart after all. Thanks dude, I owe you one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, it struck me when the bus dropped me off at Sungai Buloh (when Farhan said bye to me) that i might never have this experience again. I gained a family in Perlis. Will we still be that close when we go back to college? Will we have time for each other? Will you say hi to me if we bumped into each other on the way to class? I know I will try because something like this doesn't come very often and  I'm glad it happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;To my KAKOM family, thanks for the great memories. You guys will always have a place in my heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Drowning in the symphonies of: Before the Storm by The Jonas Brothers ft Miley Cyrus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta Luego&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-9211814573664653014?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/9211814573664653014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/end-of-our-journey-sadness-in-my-heart.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/9211814573664653014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/9211814573664653014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/end-of-our-journey-sadness-in-my-heart.html' title='The End Of Our Journey: Doleful Trip Back'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SnHN62Kg2KI/AAAAAAAAAf0/b2Zz2uOpzVY/s72-c/DSC01018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-5802727584121214615</id><published>2009-07-26T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T00:05:27.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days Of Endurance: Birth Of A Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1P5_Pb_TI/AAAAAAAAAfE/l-HaI72pJgA/s1600-h/DSC00864.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1P5_Pb_TI/AAAAAAAAAfE/l-HaI72pJgA/s320/DSC00864.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363030588915449138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;KAKOM: It's the real deal, baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Perlis Matriculation College looks bigger and the layout seems more orderly but looks can be deceiving. Seriously, I don't get me started on the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;toilets&lt;/span&gt;. I believe I can endure anything after experiencing bathing in those toilets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mornings on Saturday and Sunday were &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;free&lt;/span&gt; for me cause my competition was on Monday. After breakfast and a dose of the poco-poco dance, it was off to the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;sports complex&lt;/span&gt;. I didn't know the timing of each game so whenever I see a Melaka jersey, I would stand by the court and cheer. My cheering would be limited cause my voice was crucial for my competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the funny part, everyone who meets me thinks I'm a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;tennis player&lt;/span&gt;. Hey, I actually can play tennis. I laughed inside everytime they said that because I kept my accent to myself during my time there. I would only speak English during certain times and with certain people. I mean half of my Kakom family have no idea of my fluency towards English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1QPmW6zSI/AAAAAAAAAfM/w8EVeEeYKzY/s1600-h/DSC00850.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1QPmW6zSI/AAAAAAAAAfM/w8EVeEeYKzY/s320/DSC00850.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363030960193064226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Competition time was scary. I was literally&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; shaking&lt;/span&gt; when I was on stage. But after the first few minutes, things started to calm down. Yeah, I forgot my lines for a little while but hey, nobody's perfect. During the break, I had a bond with one of the public speakers from MARA. She was just like me, talks with an accent, has an infatuation with gourmet food, loves the lavish side of life, craves low fat macchiato during rainy days and we both have a thing for guys with well sculptured bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1O_sQuaaI/AAAAAAAAAe0/Ni2LDzuvm5g/s1600-h/DSC00911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1O_sQuaaI/AAAAAAAAAe0/Ni2LDzuvm5g/s320/DSC00911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363029587388164514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the impromtu speech, all of the contestants were locked in a hall for waiting. There was the time were we got to see the real public speakers. It was nice to be in a group where you can freely talk in English plus all the sophisticated words and not worry if they understand or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the grace of God, one of the topics that was written in that piece of paper they gave to me was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Reduce, Reuse and Recycle&lt;/span&gt;. I exhaled happily when i saw those 3 words. Environment, jackpot!!! I can't really say much about my impromtu speech cause I can't remember much about it. Weird right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, when they announced my name for the silver medal, the first thing that popped in my head was "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Oh... they are calling my name&lt;/span&gt;". Seriously, there wasn't an ounce of optimism in me. It was more like a surprise. Don't judge me as ungrateful but the happiness didn't sink in until later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1OjPBnrgI/AAAAAAAAAes/QmT2R6pYrW8/s1600-h/DSC00874.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1OjPBnrgI/AAAAAAAAAes/QmT2R6pYrW8/s320/DSC00874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363029098503843330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my competition ended, it was off to the sports complex to see my basketball boys play against Perlis. Then all I would do is just cheered for any game that involved KMM. Since my competition was over, my voice was used to its full potential. It was amazing how much team spirit was emanated in every game. It actually made us stronger as a team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1N9fPc7xI/AAAAAAAAAek/zfvL_Zj2F7M/s1600-h/DSC00948.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1N9fPc7xI/AAAAAAAAAek/zfvL_Zj2F7M/s320/DSC00948.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363028450021797650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Head banging to the beats of: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=711zbCzsI48"&gt;Patron Tequilla by Paradiso Girls Ft Eve &amp;amp; Lil' John&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta Luego!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-5802727584121214615?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/5802727584121214615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/days-of-endurance-birth-of-family.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/5802727584121214615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/5802727584121214615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/days-of-endurance-birth-of-family.html' title='The Days Of Endurance: Birth Of A Family'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm1P5_Pb_TI/AAAAAAAAAfE/l-HaI72pJgA/s72-c/DSC00864.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-2525546421336625943</id><published>2009-07-26T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T22:13:23.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beginning Of The Journey: Budding Friendships</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;KAKOM is most probably one of the best experiences I have ever went through in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I predict that my KAKOM blog would be a bit long so I'm going to split it into 3 post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The beginning of the journey&lt;br /&gt;2) The days of endurance&lt;br /&gt;3) The end of our journey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was placed in bus B with the basketball players, futsal team, chess players and my public speaking teammate. I entered the bus late so all the good seats at the back were taken so I end up sitting next to Aiman and the other basketball players. The first hour in the bus was mostly filled with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;sleepy athletes&lt;/span&gt; cause no one had enough sleep the previous night due to all the packing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At our first stop at Dengkil, we stuffed ourselves with junk food and sat down together. Thats when the bonding time started. We got to see how are people are, we saw people slowly breaking out of their shells. Back on the bus, I surprisingly created an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;unexpected friendship&lt;/span&gt; with the other 2 basketball players, Ifwat and Qayyum. Aiman was practically asleep throughout the whole journey. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 102, 51);"&gt;Thanks for the great company Aiman.... really appreciate it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm00UOmwY1I/AAAAAAAAAd8/xBsqTv0UCtY/s1600-h/DSC00743.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm00UOmwY1I/AAAAAAAAAd8/xBsqTv0UCtY/s320/DSC00743.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363000253390807890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stopped at many places, stuffing ourselves everytime with fruits, chocolates and gaseous drinks. I discovered that Lan is a eating machine. He brought food at every stop we went to, its amazing he's still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm00w0tKBsI/AAAAAAAAAeE/sYcLPBpcazo/s1600-h/DSC00754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm00w0tKBsI/AAAAAAAAAeE/sYcLPBpcazo/s320/DSC00754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363000744654538434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Tapah, we stopped for lunch. I ate KFC with Ann, Hajar, Aiman and Qayyum. I'm not a big KFC fan so I ate the macaroni instead of the chicken. Qayyum on the other hand thinks that 5 pieces of dunkin donuts is considered a healthy lunch. Whatever makes you happy, sweetie....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm0101YPLII/AAAAAAAAAeU/ad_F1gC2NWE/s1600-h/DSC00781.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm0101YPLII/AAAAAAAAAeU/ad_F1gC2NWE/s320/DSC00781.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363001913066335362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we stopped at Bukit Gantang where there was an&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt; all you can eat durian festival. &lt;/span&gt;All you need to do is pay RM7.90 and you can ingest as many durians as you like. It started with Aiman then Ann got tangled up in it then everyone joined in. I just stayed in the side lines, taking pictures cause I'm not a heavy durian eater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm01WZyreJI/AAAAAAAAAeM/hwBPMgqS2ko/s1600-h/DSC00783.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm01WZyreJI/AAAAAAAAAeM/hwBPMgqS2ko/s320/DSC00783.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363001390264973458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I forgot to mention, after our second stop, the air conditioning in the bus broke down. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Yes! It died, just like that.&lt;/span&gt; Try to imagine sitting in the bus for 8 hours without air conditioning. Try imagining sitting in a bus for hours with a bunch of people who just shoved down 3 whole durians each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the scorching heat, I enjoyed the bus trip to Perlis. I made a hole in my wallet for buying to much junk food, I got to see the basketball players dance to a hindi song, I made new friends and my butt ached when I arrived at Perlis. Still, I had a whale of a time. I didn't even noticed that we spent &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;12 whole hours&lt;/span&gt; in that bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Drowning in the symphonies of : &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iV1o8_Ot90E"&gt;Aankhein Khuli from Mohabbatein &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;(I will never forget the dance you guys did with this song. It was freaking hilarious)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta Luego!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-2525546421336625943?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/2525546421336625943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/beginning-of-journey-budding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/2525546421336625943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/2525546421336625943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/beginning-of-journey-budding.html' title='The Beginning Of The Journey: Budding Friendships'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sm00UOmwY1I/AAAAAAAAAd8/xBsqTv0UCtY/s72-c/DSC00743.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-197937718658397485</id><published>2009-07-14T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T08:07:46.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desperation Led To An Adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sl3wQUxPgxI/AAAAAAAAAd0/8DanYpjaaws/s1600-h/DSC00716.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sl3wQUxPgxI/AAAAAAAAAd0/8DanYpjaaws/s320/DSC00716.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358703294884578066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sl3v7kofYmI/AAAAAAAAAds/NiwaQ3K8LQM/s1600-h/DSC00724.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sl3v7kofYmI/AAAAAAAAAds/NiwaQ3K8LQM/s320/DSC00724.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358702938365583970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take a risk! You never know what might happen.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;So even though there was UPS the following Monday, I still went back home last weekend. My date with &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Bumblebee &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;could not be delayed any longer! I didn't book a ticket online like I use to. So the plan was to get to the Masjid Tanah bus station and buy a ticket on the spot. But I ran out of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;lucky potion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and all the tickets for the 4.30 pm bus to KL were sold out thanks to the UiTM students. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thankfully my crisis was shared with some people because I wasn't the only one who was planning to go back. I met &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Aliph&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; there. I know who he is but I never talked to him before. So I asked him about the tickets and we decided to take a risk, go to Alor Gajah and hopefully get tickets there. So the 4 of us grabbed a cab and took a chance at Alor Gajah. But the tickets at Alor Gajah were sold out too. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The whole thing was funny cause Aliph and I were thinking of grabbing a bus to Seremban and then taking a train to KL. Thats how desperately we wanted to go back. The other two girls were not too fond of our cross country roadtrip. Thankfully there were tickets for a 6.30 bus from Masjid Tanah. Back to MT again!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So to kill time, aliph and I talked. He was surprised that I'm an ex-CBNer. Only then did he realise that I was the CBN prom photographer and that I took his picture during prom. He was also surprised at the vast knowledge I have towards the social scene in KL as well as KMM. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One thing I want to remind you guys: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;People talk and when they do, it will most probably get back to me. So be careful of what you say, especially in KMM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So in the end I had fun going to Alor Gajah and back. It was like an adventure. You know, the panic, the misery and the laughter turned that whole experience into a wild one. Plus I made some new friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Drowning in the symphonies of: Falling for you by Colbie Caillat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Hasta Luego!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-197937718658397485?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/197937718658397485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/desperation-led-to-adventure.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/197937718658397485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/197937718658397485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/07/desperation-led-to-adventure.html' title='Desperation Led To An Adventure'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/Sl3wQUxPgxI/AAAAAAAAAd0/8DanYpjaaws/s72-c/DSC00716.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-7520315264850622063</id><published>2009-06-27T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T20:08:27.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Painful Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SkbeR5raJ3I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ymrh-QbkJco/s1600-h/DSC00615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SkbeR5raJ3I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ymrh-QbkJco/s320/DSC00615.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352209606298445682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Note to self: You're not as fit as you were before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;So on thursday I fell &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;sick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I refuse to go to the clinic because my illness is not that bad. It's just a severe flu and chest pains. So I went to class looking like a frail little girl who kept popping pills into her mouth like candy. By Friday morning, I was feeling a little better. My flu wasn't as bad as the day before. But during the 11 o'clock chemistry lecture, my chest got really heavy. I kept taking short breaths and it hurt everytime I inhaled.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How smart of me for not bringing my &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;inhaler. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I assumed that since my asthma is very mild and I haven't used that inhaler for almost a year so the point of bringing it to college never crossed my mind. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;WRONG!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; So after sending my chemistry report, I totally crashed back in my dorm. My friends and roomates were the ones that told me I was incapable to go to Kakom training. I needed to go because we didn't do much training on Thursday. Anyway the painkillers knocked me to slumber as quickly as you can say "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Paracetamol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SkbdY-abNFI/AAAAAAAAAck/HYDQtxhO2uM/s1600-h/DSC00616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SkbdY-abNFI/AAAAAAAAAck/HYDQtxhO2uM/s320/DSC00616.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352208628316845138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Larian Kakom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; was today and I woke up feeling good. After receiving my medal, we started running out of campus, me proudly holding the Melaka state flag. I ran like the wind until the guard house, after that I decided I wanted to walk instead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I fast walked all the way through. A lot of my friends would stop running to regain energy by walking next to me. We would have a small chat and then I would let them go to continue their journey to the finish line. It was a great experience. Plus people stopping beside me for a chat was fun and hilarious at the same time. A typical chat would go like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend: Hey Shana. How are you holding up? (talking while breathing heavily)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Obviously better than you, I'm walking.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend: Yeah you got a point.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Well I think you should continue running. I don't want to hold you back. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend: You're not holding me back, I'm just taking a break with you. Anyway, thanks for the chat Shana. See you at the finish line.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Yeah, see you there. Now go run like the wind.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend: Got it (says with a smile and then speeds off to finish the race)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So that would be a typical cross country conversation that I experienced. Things got even more interesing when I got to the finish line. I put down the flag and discovered an immense pain on my upper right arm. I checked it out and found out that I couldn't straighten my right arm. I left it that way for a a couple minutes, praying the pain would subside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My friend Tiqa found me, learned about my condition and told me to see Cikgu Azrin. After much persuasion, I went to see her. She took me to HEP, took out the first aid kit and rubbed some muscle cream on my arm. She massaged my arm, trying to straighten it out but her actions were in vain. She then did this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;physiotherapy trick &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;where she slowly lifted my arm and lowered it again. The pain was unbearable but it worked and my bicep was finally relaxed. The more dreadful part was when the muscle cream kicked in. It felt like like someone was burning your arm from the inside. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So I turned out OK thanks to Cikgu Azrin, thanks to Tiqa and thanks to God! Isn't it odd and not to mention funny that I got a bicep cramp during a marathon? Even Encik Khai thought it was unusual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;At the end of the day, I had tons of fun (minus all the pain). Thats all for today. Behave yourselves!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Drowning in the symphonies of: Spotlight (Twilight remix) by Mutemath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Hasta Leugo!&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/7485860667236815190-7520315264850622063?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/7520315264850622063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/06/painful-week.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/7520315264850622063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/7520315264850622063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/06/painful-week.html' title='Painful Week'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SkbeR5raJ3I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ymrh-QbkJco/s72-c/DSC00615.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-2346544479285235430</id><published>2009-06-13T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T10:17:38.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Siblings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SjPb4INiVmI/AAAAAAAAAcc/-aglNL4dcYo/s1600-h/sibling+collage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SjPb4INiVmI/AAAAAAAAAcc/-aglNL4dcYo/s320/sibling+collage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346858939942327906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Blood is thicker than water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently at my grandparent's house in KL, sitting in front of the MAC while eating a Pop tart. I came back to pick up my ATM card that has been delayed for weeks. Now the card is safely tucked inside my wallet, waiting to be shoved into a machine for money withdrawal. Lets hope that the act of shoving my card into a machine doesn' t turn into a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;habit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first to greet me yesterday night when I arrived home was my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;younger sister.&lt;/span&gt; It was a relieve to see her. I know it's been a week since I last saw her but she is the person I miss the most when I'm at KMM. There were a lot of things during my childhood that were never constant due to the fact that I have divorced parents. But I can truly say that my sister is the most &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;constant&lt;/span&gt; thing or person in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was fortunate enough to get the modern name of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Nasha&lt;/span&gt; while I got a very traditional name. But almost everyone outside my family calls me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;Shana&lt;/span&gt;. So people always assume that my sister and I are&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; twins&lt;/span&gt;  with anagrammatic names. Plus we look like carbon copies of each other. The diferrence is that she's taller and lighter while I'm shorter and darker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to tell her all the interesting tales of college life especially the ones involving the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;ravishing men&lt;/span&gt; of KMM. She's quite frustrated at the fact that I can be close with many boys and still keep my emotions in check. She on the other hand easily fall for the charm of men. Apart from my college stories, she also kept me in the loop with the dramas of my former high school, Convent Bukit Nanas. It seems like that place ever seems to run short of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;theatrics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Pavilion &lt;/span&gt;together and watched &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Drag Me To Hell&lt;/span&gt; with dad. When we got home, our usual activity of sitting down in our room and talking would resume. Then she would pick up the guitar, play a familiar tune and ask me to sing in my horrible voice. When there are no more songs to sings , she would start singing the song that she wrote a couple of weeks ago. I helped her with the lyrics of the song and until now, I haven't fully grasped the fact that it's an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;awesome song. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm going back to Melaka tomorrow. Thats all about my annoying younger sister. Behave yourselves, people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Embracing the symphony of: You're not sorry (CSI remix) by Taylor Swift&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta Luego!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-2346544479285235430?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/2346544479285235430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/06/siblings.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/2346544479285235430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/2346544479285235430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/06/siblings.html' title='Siblings'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/SjPb4INiVmI/AAAAAAAAAcc/-aglNL4dcYo/s72-c/sibling+collage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7485860667236815190.post-2462412026945537472</id><published>2009-06-10T02:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T02:48:47.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Biography</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The first time is always the most interesting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Welcome to all internet addicts, computer freaks and blog readers of KMM. Some of you right now are suppose to be writing a report, finishing you tutorial, start researching on your presentations or most probably, you should be &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;studying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;But instead you're online, checking your facebook updates, replying your myspace comments and reading my blog. So I thank you for commiting a small act of procrastination just so you could read my blog. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As this is my first post on my new blog, I want to start with a brief introduction of myself. The answer to that question thats been boiling in your mind is: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Yes, I am a muslim and I am a Malay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I was born in this humid country of Malaysia. But I grew up elsewhere. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I call &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Kuala Lumpur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; home and I do call myself a true metropolitan girl. I love KL so much that everytime I go to a place where the air is clean, I feel like I just stepped into another planet with a different atmospheric pressure. Honestly, it took some time to get use the fresh air of the Melaka countryside. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm currently taking &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Life Science&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; which is agony for me because I hate the numerical aspects of science. I have always had an aversion towards numbers. I can't explain why. To make things worst, half the things we learn in Matrix involves numbers. I'm only here at KMM because if I do well, I can go to university at a faster pace. I dream of studying English at university and leave behind the complexity of science for good. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What else? Oh, I have a public love affair with &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; It's the only thing that has kept me sane for the past couple of years. Thats why if you see me walking to Dewan Kuliah or waiting in line at the cafe, the earplugs are always in my ear. Music can calm me down during the most hectic hours, it can wake me up during the jaded days and it can inspire my soul during the most empty times. Music is literally my perfect dose of heroin. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well that's enough about me. I hope all you guys have a nice day. Behave yourselves. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Banging my head to the beats of : Beating heart baby by Head Automatica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Hasta Luego!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7485860667236815190-2462412026945537472?l=thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/feeds/2462412026945537472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/06/biography.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/2462412026945537472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7485860667236815190/posts/default/2462412026945537472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthismorecruelthananylie.blogspot.com/2009/06/biography.html' title='Biography'/><author><name>Shana Azali</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03222616525015168840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VXh9WnMfbxc/TBYrr9x5eCI/AAAAAAAAAkU/yylkMHxOgLY/S220/DSC01657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
