<?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-3465137940455137932</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:13:35.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Careless unravelling</title><subtitle type='html'>Crack that whip!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-3203310344305859399</id><published>2011-10-26T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T13:14:47.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;10 greatest memories - in no particular order&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- arrival of misha husain - 1st january 1992. 6 30pm PNS shifa hospital DHA. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- apa's wedding and all the floo flaa of it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- playing throwball at sjc&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;-drives taken with murreum, her radiance and her seamless ability to humour me with a comic strip expertly made from ink and pencil under a desk, during english with miss kazi&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- 1999 cricket world cup&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- trip to LUMS lahore - December 2004&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- first few days with my adorable, amazing husband. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- 2nd March 2003&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Baji's crazy AKUH episode - 2002&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- 30th May 1997&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-3203310344305859399?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/3203310344305859399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/10/10-greatest-memories-in-no-particular.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/3203310344305859399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/3203310344305859399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/10/10-greatest-memories-in-no-particular.html' title=''/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-3427454238831983804</id><published>2011-10-26T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T10:48:44.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it has been a slow but building realization that an extensive period of routine and dum dum has my hands breaking out into an unscratchable itch. My mind starts to wander more towards nostalgia and all the things i liked doing but discontinued due to either a gruelling course in college, my obsession with getting fit which means hitting the gym and training for a mini mariam track olympic record, or just getting used to working late, coming home to maintain some form of sustenance for myself and even more exhausted husband. i resort myself to going online and reading fun articles on things that are current and fun like "10 foods that will help you live longer" or "5 ways to build your credit rating" to more serious ones like "why is pancreatic cancer discovered so late" and to my husband's pleasure, numerous articles on ovarian and breast cancer to fully educate myself on the risks, causes and the preventive measures since ill be turning the big 3 OH soon. I forget sometimes that i used to find thrill in different things a few years ago, writing was one of them. filling a blog space with daily dum drims was my way of coping with now seemingly retarded stuff like losing in love and battling insecurities that suddenly, arose from it. Its sad how my best writing and my best revelations came with being a complete loser who had no time to experience the greatness and open-ness of being in her early to mid twenties. but it did push me to write, my insight was different. sad but different. i felt more human then. Lately, i havent written in MONTHS. is it because im happy? happiness that i thought i could never find? happiness that has me so overwhelmed, i cant think of putting it down in ink? that is kind of sad actually. I should, i think have the same zeal, the same urge tow rite like i did..when i was not so hoo haa. but strangely so, sitting at my office desk, on a slow day, im suddenly pushed to start this again. to just dive into something ive always liked to do. i feel odd that i dont do it anymore. Ive lost all the small number of readers i had (loyal friends who gave my blog a chance) and i dont know if ill get any readershp ever, but i still have that urge (good sign no?). i never wrote really for my blog to be discovered or read by millions. it was just an easy, convenient way of expression that was fortunate enough to achieve some interest. i just want to write again. play with words again. i hope, hope hope i can do this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-3427454238831983804?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/3427454238831983804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/10/it-has-been-slow-but-building.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/3427454238831983804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/3427454238831983804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/10/it-has-been-slow-but-building.html' title=''/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-6186727671480517682</id><published>2011-10-20T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T09:33:58.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>music on the radio sucks these days. i would say its exponentially worse than some stuff i heard a few years ago. the kardashian piss me off because they dont pay for anything and get paid for everything. cancer is rampant like the flu sometimes it seems. traffic pains me to pieces. just a regular thing in 2011&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-6186727671480517682?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/6186727671480517682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/10/music-on-radio-sucks-these-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/6186727671480517682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/6186727671480517682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/10/music-on-radio-sucks-these-days.html' title=''/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-3457362582744490611</id><published>2011-02-22T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T18:52:48.224-08:00</updated><title type='text'>paula deen will take  your blues away..</title><content type='html'>for the last few weeks, well lets put it this way - months. ive been sitting at home. Yeah that sounds cruel but its true. Well, in Pakistan i had expertly occupied my time teaching teenage girls english but more or less, wedding prep had taken over and the hopes of traversing new boundaries in the land of opportunities (sometimes that just sounds like a myth) had my hopes riding high. Im currently stepping into the mean, cut throat, unforgiving  job market which involves a LOT Of alone time. Hence, since cooking was never my forte and i can always use this precious time judiciously, i have without intention taken a stab at perfecting my cooking or at least im attempting to, now, well from today. a few easy dishes with preparation time less than what it takes me to dry my hair has me going on a high of excitement. Today, i jotted down a recipe for a crazy delish chocolate mustard with caramel whipped cream and mint. Prep time - 3 hours (counting the time it takes to cool in the fridgy). The yalls can be a bit unnerving especially when her sons join her in with this notorious catch phrase and the pig and ox feet southern concoctions are not desirable but her dessert certainly is since she likes to stick to butter and things of rich creamy consistency. I have promised myself to be more regular about hitting the gym even though the 10 min walk through ice and slush is always always a deterrent. I must resort to this if i plan to make chocolate goodness and not expect to pack the pounds on each side of my sizable buttock. I may use this blog to rant or rave about my cooking results. How well i actually stick to this new desired plan or how badly i fail either at taking a stab at it or just being a failure at cooking great cuisine. Hers to happy hoping, happy cooking and happy searching for work which will enable me to venture out more frequently from this apartment and not be in my husband's face all the time - ok i take that back. but stilll...its no fun to CHECK  out new york city in freezing weather on your own :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-3457362582744490611?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/3457362582744490611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/02/paula-deen-will-take-your-blues-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/3457362582744490611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/3457362582744490611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2011/02/paula-deen-will-take-your-blues-away.html' title='paula deen will take  your blues away..'/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-7423478877361410545</id><published>2010-01-08T16:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T11:48:32.371-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a wispy grey engulfs the puddle&lt;br /&gt;that has already taken in, half her toes into black&lt;br /&gt;the crevices on her palm appear wrinkled and more important&lt;br /&gt;than the story they have been unfolding so far&lt;br /&gt;her face has no story&lt;br /&gt;her eyes have no tale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she has covered the purple side of the rainbow, but&lt;br /&gt;she hopes to reach the red&lt;br /&gt;feel the warmth of the colour on her skin as it heats every pore, every hair, every mole with its tint&lt;br /&gt;she hunts for some sunlight&lt;br /&gt;to bask her in gold that would become her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she follows his shadow.&lt;br /&gt;she follows the rainbow&lt;br /&gt;she seeks the end&lt;br /&gt;she seeks the colours that once surrounded her in different blocks&lt;br /&gt;of electricity&lt;br /&gt;she wishes to jolt herself to oblivion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her toes are now soft and prunelike&lt;br /&gt;her legs carry her places without any instruction&lt;br /&gt;she moves from memory&lt;br /&gt;from exactness&lt;br /&gt;her thoughts are excercised, rehearsed, imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is how things will be&lt;br /&gt;she understands&lt;br /&gt;until &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; end of the gleaming, shiny,&lt;br /&gt;rainbow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-7423478877361410545?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/7423478877361410545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2010/01/wispy-grey-engulfs-puddle-that-has.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/7423478877361410545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/7423478877361410545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2010/01/wispy-grey-engulfs-puddle-that-has.html' title=''/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-4977613554015811110</id><published>2009-08-08T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:04:40.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>she views the world through some rose tinted shades, the kind that have polka dots on the frame, with smiley faces maybe, or some ladybirds...or cherries...or happy suns with darts of sunlight shooting out, spreading through the entire canvas of her vision..that was her..that is her. she yearns to belong to a world. a world that seems light years away..but not to her..she watches them, views their happiness,,,with a tinge of guilt, a pang of envy and maybe gratification that life does have fruit to offer..she feels all this in a milisecond, she feels all this as she slowly moves through the crowds, that engulf her, and make her look more ordinary than she already is....blocking the sun that she wants to be in..the shade doest offer any comfort.&lt;br /&gt;she thinks she can do it,..at some point..she can. yes...move forward, pant a little...it will be sluggish in the end but it can happen..she thinks...she stops..she thinks..she moves..&lt;br /&gt;its been years..time has passed....her eyes search..they even close with patience..its not impossible she thinks..it cant be too difficult..its just blending...mixing...some moulding..some kneeding...some shaping and things will be ok..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her pictures will show her smile. her pictures will show her wearing kaftans, with jeweled slippers...pasty skin...and a glisten in her eyes that only some can see...she will have that day she thinks..when all of that happen...she thinks she deserves it...it will happen...she will be surrounded by nothing but light.....she would carry it with herself and make everything she touches turn to gold...&lt;br /&gt;she would sit with a slouch..with a poise that shows nothing but sparkle...she would look at the time and wish it would just fly...&lt;br /&gt;shes not letting go...shes not...maybe she should but she isnt...shes hustling...shes moving..she thinks that its just around the corner. the happiness shes looking for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-4977613554015811110?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/4977613554015811110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/08/she-views-world-through-some-rose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/4977613554015811110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/4977613554015811110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/08/she-views-world-through-some-rose.html' title=''/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-4765705234995223357</id><published>2009-07-15T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T10:49:20.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>KARACHI!</title><content type='html'>ok much needs to ensue to make this blog livelier...im only here for 10 days! 10!! how lame is that...i blame the corporate world for this. i have never visited karachi for less than a month and now i have to pack my life in a 10 day period...its not fun..considering you take two to three days to wear off the jet lag. but whatever. im so happy...even not doing anything is fun! :) the heat is a little annoyig and the stickiness of my clothes once i step out in the street...but hey...thats what i was born into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so far. i have spent time with the kiddies...scolded them for reading my diary while i was away, ate bahadurabad chaat made with gutter water, meetha paan, naan, mango milk shake...mango slices. french biscuits..applied test make up on sarah naqvi and duefully got her approval for the eye makeup..minus the bold eyeliner i applied. gushed over her nikkah clothes, got lost in my sister's mansion, made a trip to the tailor master and asked him to masterfully stitch the nikkah clothes the day before, walked around in my slippers and got my toes dirty with sand. stared in shock at my measurements this year compared to last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why is karachi always so much fun? even amidst the not so great internet connection, not so grea power supply, not so great smog over the city...its the familiariy of everything, the room you stay in, where you lived for the first 19 years of your life, same landmarks, everythings right where you left it and going through drawers full of old pictures, notes, tests, textbooks, takes you right back where you always wanted to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats the power of home. everything is you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-4765705234995223357?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/4765705234995223357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/07/karachi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/4765705234995223357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/4765705234995223357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/07/karachi.html' title='KARACHI!'/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-2549818821265101358</id><published>2009-06-16T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T07:35:37.081-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hygeine? Seriously...</title><content type='html'>So i have been meaning to blog about this-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im working mostly at the office these days. The office is not known for its modern restrooms. The lighting is a little off, the floors dont seem scrubbed (even though im sure they are everyday). So in essence, stepping in doesnt give you assurance that this place is remotely clean, im mostly on my toes, hands to my side, making sure i have the least possible contact with anything in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While washing my hands the other day. i noticed a sign on the towel dispenser, warning of the effects of swine flu and how one should wash her hands after using the bathroom, in order to fight any germs that may carry the flu virus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It got me thinking..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No 1.  Washing hands before the swine flu scare was just an option?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No 2. Reading this made me recall noticing people using the toilets and then stepping outside, or at best, washing their hands hastily with water and no soap. Is that all you need when you use the bathroom and are possibly in the most germ infested part of the building?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only should you use soap, its imperative to use a LOT of soap and wash your hands thoroughly for at least 15 to 20 seconds with warm water. In addition, if there is an anti bacterial solution nearby, you should use a quart sized amount and rub it on your hands until dry. Finally, when stepping out, use a towel to hold the bathroom door handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize if i sound like your mother 16 years ago, but i cant help it if i see adults- educated adults probably aware of all the consequences of walking around with filthy hands, failing to follow such a simple and necessary regimen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE PLEASE, wash your hands, WITH soap. You can contract a lot more than just the swine flu if you don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-2549818821265101358?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/2549818821265101358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/06/hygeine-seriously.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/2549818821265101358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/2549818821265101358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/06/hygeine-seriously.html' title='Hygeine? Seriously...'/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3465137940455137932.post-8123089220442120119</id><published>2009-05-17T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T11:55:12.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>summer has to be the most horrible time to study for an exam. especially in a city like chicago when summer only lasts for a few months. its beautiful outside. its blue, yellow and the air is cold and new.&lt;br /&gt;the grass is growing up to my knees. the south indians have turned the cement strip in the dog park to a cricket pitch..and i can hear them yelling in their their langauge as  a dark skinned boy hits the wickets.&lt;br /&gt;i just want to be outside. with a friend, go to jamba juice, and get a smoothie. wear flip flops and let my hair down so it freely blows in the wind. hhe&lt;br /&gt;the weather is making me giddy happy and this exam isnt!&lt;br /&gt;next year no exams, no problem...hopefully ill still have a job then&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3465137940455137932-8123089220442120119?l=conjealeddots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/feeds/8123089220442120119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/05/summer-has-to-be-most-horrible-time-to.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/8123089220442120119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3465137940455137932/posts/default/8123089220442120119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://conjealeddots.blogspot.com/2009/05/summer-has-to-be-most-horrible-time-to.html' title=''/><author><name>No fuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13610876481933143951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos21.flickr.com/33571503_f630fec951_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
