<?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-5020182</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:26:20.485Z</updated><title type='text'>Don't stop thinking</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;I&gt;Pick up the pieces you see before you&lt;BR&gt;
Dont let your weaknesses destroy you&lt;/i&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-105727183395582525</id><published>2003-07-03T22:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-07-03T22:40:50.740Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= verdana&gt;&lt;B&gt;The taste of morning&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Time's knife slides from the sheath, &lt;br /&gt;As a fish from where it swims&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being closer and closer is the desire of the body&lt;br /&gt;Don't wish for union&lt;br /&gt;There is a closeness beyond that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall in love in such a way that it frees you from any connecting&lt;br /&gt;Love is the soul's light, the taste of morning, &lt;br /&gt;no me, no we, no claim of being&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words are the smoke the fire gives off as it absolves its defects&lt;br /&gt;as eyes in silence, tears, face. &lt;br /&gt;Love cannot be said. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Rumi&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-105727183395582525?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105727183395582525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105727183395582525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105727183395582525' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-105725475850343679</id><published>2003-07-03T17:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-07-03T22:28:46.710Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= verdana&gt;a lot of people say I'm lucky, sometimes I feel lucky but what has luck got to do with it?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-105725475850343679?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105725475850343679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105725475850343679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105725475850343679' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-105718354533767599</id><published>2003-07-02T22:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-07-03T17:53:40.200Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= Verdana&gt;me: "what are you looking at?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brother: "the garden in your hand"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "Its just flowers"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brother: "thats a lot of flowers"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "I have a lot of friends"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-105718354533767599?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105718354533767599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105718354533767599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105718354533767599' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-105700724584006157</id><published>2003-06-30T21:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-30T21:09:43.250Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= verdana&gt;Dont turn to the sky for the answers, turn towards yourself. &lt;br /&gt;Dont pray for a miracle, &lt;I&gt;be&lt;/i&gt; a miracle. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-105700724584006157?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105700724584006157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105700724584006157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105700724584006157' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-105692191410694752</id><published>2003-06-29T21:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-29T21:27:26.006Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= Verdana&gt;Dad: "whats with all the black?" (me and my sister are both wearing black)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; me: "We're in mourning"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Dad: "Oh really, why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; me: "because we're leaving the country"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Dad: "haha, thats a good one"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-105692191410694752?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105692191410694752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105692191410694752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105692191410694752' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-105681631462137252</id><published>2003-06-28T16:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-29T21:28:28.640Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= verdana&gt;ah... now I see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Its my nieces birthday today, shes 6 years old. Yesterday when we were eating, she looks at the salad and says "theres no matatoes in there"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I thought that was hilarious.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-105681631462137252?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105681631462137252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/105681631462137252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105681631462137252' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95961800</id><published>2003-06-23T23:12:00.001Z</published><updated>2003-06-29T21:28:59.346Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= verdana&gt;&lt;I&gt;Your remedy is within you, but you do not sense it&lt;br /&gt;Your sickness is within you, but you do not percieve it&lt;br /&gt;You presume that you are a small entity&lt;br /&gt;Whereas within you is concealed a vast world&lt;br /&gt;Therefore you have no needs beyond yourself&lt;br /&gt;Your essence and secrets are in you&lt;br /&gt;If only you could reflect&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95961800?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95961800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95961800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95961800' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95875808</id><published>2003-06-20T21:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-20T21:36:21.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;marquee  width="20%"&gt;Go Nadz!&lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;marquee width="20%" direction="right"&gt;Go Nadz!&lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;marquee  width="20%"&gt;Go Nadz!&lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;marquee width="20%" direction="right"&gt;Go Nadz!&lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src= http://www.handykult.de/plaudersmilies.de/birthday.gif&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95875808?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95875808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95875808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95875808' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95808705</id><published>2003-06-18T23:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-20T23:40:07.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face= verdana&gt;u poor disillusioned fool&lt;br /&gt;indeed&lt;br /&gt;fool?&lt;br /&gt;pfft&lt;br /&gt;i like the use of the word fool!&lt;br /&gt;pfffffffft&lt;br /&gt;for we are ALL fools!&lt;br /&gt;everybody's somebodys fool&lt;br /&gt;im no fool&lt;br /&gt;how wise &lt;br /&gt;me?&lt;br /&gt;im nobodys fool&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95808705?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95808705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95808705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95808705' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95792524</id><published>2003-06-18T15:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-18T21:27:42.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hate this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95792524?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95792524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95792524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95792524' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95730963</id><published>2003-06-16T21:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-18T21:29:18.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>slight over-reaction there. I've realised that its not the end, its just another road on the journey of life, the one I'm on now may be coming to an end but another one is starting right after. Although, if I were to die on the aeroplane, then it really will be the end. But  enough of the wishful thinking. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95730963?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95730963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95730963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95730963' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95696017</id><published>2003-06-15T22:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-15T22:55:48.563Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>back... I think. We've got less than a month till we go. It seems so final. And in a way, it is. The life that I know here will be over, we have to leave everything and everyone behind and I dont know when.. if we'll come back to it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95696017?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95696017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95696017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95696017' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95297964</id><published>2003-06-04T20:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-18T21:31:31.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey Nadia, You rock =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Its June, our last full month here. I'm just getting myself all worked up for nothing. Life is about change and growth, not comfort and security... must remember that. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95297964?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95297964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95297964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95297964' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95130888</id><published>2003-05-31T20:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-18T21:25:45.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We've more or less got the tickets. We're going from London to Jeddah on 13th July, we're staying there for 19 days and then we're going to Islamabad on 31st July. My eldest brother is going with us so he's gonna miss his graduation ceremony, he couldnt care less but I wish he couldve gone...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95130888?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95130888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95130888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#95130888' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95047392</id><published>2003-05-29T19:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-29T19:46:12.953Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>okay... nearly fixed. Somethings different but I cant really figure it out, oh well. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95047392?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95047392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95047392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#95047392' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-95035389</id><published>2003-05-29T14:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-29T14:42:28.660Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>as you can see, I've ruined my template. Ho hum. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-95035389?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95035389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/95035389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#95035389' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94983766</id><published>2003-05-28T11:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-28T11:57:50.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Its my sisters 17th Birthday today. I dont think shes in the mood for celebrating though. For what its worth the weathers nice today &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got onto the Islamic Counselling course, its starting next Thursday. I have no idea what to expect but Im looking forward to it. should be good inshaAllah :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And yay for Nadia cuz shes finished her first year at med school!  Wooh mashaAllah =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94983766?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94983766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94983766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94983766' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94897509</id><published>2003-05-26T14:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-26T14:30:49.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;marquee behavior=scroll direction="left"&gt;Happy 19th Birthday Yaser!&lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; woohoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94897509?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94897509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94897509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94897509' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94856987</id><published>2003-05-25T11:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-25T11:03:52.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>theres a very thin line between fear and hate. When you're scared of something you automatically hate it and when you hate something you start to fear it. Its circular, never ending. But love and hope, they can break the cycle. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94856987?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94856987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94856987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94856987' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94754918</id><published>2003-05-22T21:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2003-05-25T11:04:19.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok so I think we're going in July *thought adjustment time*. I think its cool. What difference does a few months make anyway? And on to more important stuff:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/tedelton/1039941222_sWolverine.gif" border="0" alt="wolverine"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;I&gt;You are Wolverine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A loner by nature, you feel uncomfortable when&lt;br&gt;around those you don't know and even those you&lt;br&gt;do.  You are awkward when it comes to&lt;br&gt;relationships, but fiercely loyal to those you&lt;br&gt;love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/tedelton/quizzes/Which%20X-Men%20character%20are%20you%20most%20like%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which X-Men character are you most like?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; woohoo, wolverine is like the best character ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94754918?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94754918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94754918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94754918' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94699839</id><published>2003-05-21T19:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-21T19:31:32.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The future's bright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The futures bright? Thats right, and Im giving up without a fight. Im losing before Ive begun. Thats not how its done, is it? I'm so tired of this shit. Nothing seems to fit. Choice and destiny? Illusion or reality? I have no choice, no voice. What the hell am I supposed to do, its a catch 22. Hold on or let go? Damned if i know. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94699839?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94699839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94699839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94699839' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94653200</id><published>2003-05-20T21:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-20T22:04:53.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Had my psychology exams yesterday. I think I did pretty badly but the good thing is no one cares if I fail anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I feel tired. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94653200?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94653200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94653200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94653200' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94543973</id><published>2003-05-18T18:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-18T21:05:53.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two forces. Light and darkness. Love and hate. Good and bad. Separate yet together. Antonymous yet synonymous. You rarely find one without the other. Like two sides of a coin. Interlinked. Intertwined. which one goes deeper? Which one's stronger? Hard to tell sometimes. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94543973?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94543973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94543973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94543973' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94352076</id><published>2003-05-14T21:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-14T21:56:28.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;I&gt;"If you're a rose then I'm the thorn that's in your side, &lt;br /&gt;And does it hurt badly? &lt;br /&gt;'Cause it burns right here."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Switchfoot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;"A thorn grows next to the rose as its witness&lt;br /&gt;I am that thorn, for whom to simply &lt;U&gt;be&lt;/u&gt; is an act of praise&lt;br /&gt;Near the rose, no shame.&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;- Rumi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94352076?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94352076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94352076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94352076' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94256930</id><published>2003-05-13T10:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-14T21:11:13.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There was a time when all I could think about was jihad. I wanted to go so badly, to Afghanistan, Palestine, Chechnya.. anywhere, everywhere. heh, didnt really work out did it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94256930?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94256930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94256930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94256930' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94225207</id><published>2003-05-12T21:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-18T21:34:06.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Started another phase of counselling; bereavement. Its pretty good so far. Got my psychology exams in a week dammit. Havent done any revision at all. stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Just watched this documentary "terror in moscow" when muslims took a theatre full of russians hostage. Pretty upsetting stuff. They showed their dead bodies (the muslims, not the hostages) some of them were covered in blood from bullets... They had courage man. I dont think I could ever do that. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94225207?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94225207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94225207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94225207' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-94077836</id><published>2003-05-09T22:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-18T21:41:43.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think my mom wants to go Umrah in winter and then off to pakistan. Im not sure how I feel about that. I really want to go Umrah but Pakistan? My reflex reaction to that is "NO!" I dont want to go at all. Everything I know is here, my friends, my family, the kids, the computer! What the hell am I gonna do in pakistan? You cant go out, you cant study you cant do anything. I might go crazy.. well more crazier than I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; but on the other hand... theres a part of me that wants to go. Ive always wanted to be alone, I want to be able to just concentrate on my religion and hifz.. and I may get that chance in pakistan. And its a complete different way of life there, it could be a real learning experience. We wont stay there for ever will we? I'll be back in a coupla years (?). Maybe it wont be so bad..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; oh I dont know. Whatever Allah wills will happen. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-94077836?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94077836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/94077836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94077836' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-93754872</id><published>2003-05-04T18:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-04T18:38:02.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ach I dont care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My eldest brother should be graduating from university this year inshaAllah, not sure when though. I think my mom wants to stay and celebrate or something, which is kinda funny... anyway, my other brother is in his final year at Uni too but he thinks hes gonna fail so no graduation for him yet. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-93754872?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93754872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93754872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#93754872' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-93651371</id><published>2003-05-02T14:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-02T14:24:18.180Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>what am I trying to prove?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Its an awful feeling when you dont have control over your own life, when people can make decisions for you without even consulting you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-93651371?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93651371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93651371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#93651371' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-93490390</id><published>2003-04-29T21:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-21T19:32:41.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Same situations, just different faces. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-93490390?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93490390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93490390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93490390' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-93262569</id><published>2003-04-25T21:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-25T21:25:58.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;I&gt;"I know what it's like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. How you try to fit in but you can't. How you hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside" &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Girl, Interrupted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I finally watched that movie yesterday... good movie. I think every one of us can relate to some of the craziness. "crazy" feelings are  just "normal" feelings amplified.. you can still see the shadow of your own feelings.. maybe. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-93262569?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93262569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/93262569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93262569' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92947879</id><published>2003-04-20T22:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-20T22:15:12.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Masks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when people look at you, what do they see?&lt;br /&gt;Do they see inside or just superficiality?&lt;br /&gt;Do they see behind all the masks you wear?&lt;br /&gt;can they see the burdens you bear?&lt;br /&gt;maybe if they looked closer they would see&lt;br /&gt;And wouldnt judge so quickly&lt;br /&gt;Behind the mask of realism lies deep-rooted cynicism&lt;br /&gt;A feeling planted in childhood&lt;br /&gt;A mistrust of people, promises and secrets&lt;br /&gt;Feelings that render you helpless&lt;br /&gt;And behind a bright smile lies a constant sadness&lt;br /&gt;That makes your laughter end on a sigh&lt;br /&gt;leaving you wondering why&lt;br /&gt;And behind the light lies a perpetual shadow&lt;br /&gt;That covers everything like a thin blanket of snow&lt;br /&gt;covering your eyes with lies&lt;br /&gt;Making your view jaded and faded&lt;br /&gt;Is this how it'll continue to be,&lt;br /&gt;pain, darkness and misery?&lt;br /&gt;You may feel like you're alone&lt;br /&gt;and that you're the only one who has to act with all these masks&lt;br /&gt;but if you look closely at others you will see&lt;br /&gt;Its the same for everybody&lt;br /&gt;Deep down we're all the same&lt;br /&gt;Just trying to hide our pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92947879?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92947879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92947879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92947879' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92887813</id><published>2003-04-19T14:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-06-18T21:26:50.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Good Friday" was definately a good friday. Went to London for the Nasheed show! We left the house 2 hours early cuz we thought theyd be lots of traffic but there wasnt, so we arrived in London 2 hours before the event started, lol.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The actual show was ok. It wasnt as crazy as last time but it got better towards the end.  Shaam were cool cuz they're brummies, wooh! Irfan Makki was good too.. he not only sounds like Michael Jackson, he even talks like him, lol. And of course Dawud W. Ali was the best. He came on last, he sang "madina tun nabi", "Dont talk about Muhammad", "silent sunlight" and then he came back to sing the new version of "children of the world". It was awesome... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92887813?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92887813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92887813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92887813' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92669202</id><published>2003-04-15T19:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-15T19:56:12.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>2 days left, omg :|. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92669202?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92669202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92669202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92669202' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92383382</id><published>2003-04-10T21:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-10T21:03:26.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>who's right and who's wrong? Who's the weak and who's the strong? Exaggerating victory, hiding defeat. not an easy feat. Shown through a distorted lens, does any of it really make sense? History repeating itself again. So much pain in vain for selfish gain. Can there be a winner in this game? Not those they sought to defame. Bringing untold misery based on a false notion of setting them "free".&lt;br /&gt;what does the future hold? what more horrors will this story unfold?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92383382?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92383382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92383382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92383382' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92315550</id><published>2003-04-09T21:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-09T21:18:20.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;I&gt;"What kind of circus is this&lt;br /&gt;What kind of fools are we&lt;br /&gt;when is the final curtain&lt;br /&gt;What can I do to set me free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the picture show&lt;br /&gt;Watching your life&lt;br /&gt;Never know which way to go&lt;br /&gt;It might end up wrong&lt;br /&gt;So you'd better be strong"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Lenny Kravitz - Circus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92315550?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92315550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92315550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92315550' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92171643</id><published>2003-04-07T20:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-14T22:09:22.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;I&gt;"I always knew you were a psycho and you'd need counselling but I didnt think you'd end up studying it"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; lol.. so true. A friend said that to me when I told them what I was studying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Our counselling course finished today, it was 6 months long, thats a long time. Its been so great doing this course, its really something that I want to go into, one day inshaAllah.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92171643?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92171643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92171643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92171643' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92108278</id><published>2003-04-06T21:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-06T22:01:49.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Went to a multi-cultural event today. It probably wouldve been better to call it an Arab &amp; Pakistani event judging from everyone who went, haha. It was okay though, they were selling clothes, books and other stuff and there was free food, pakistani of course. mmmm I love our food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Counselling tomorrow. I have no idea where our nearest florist is.. dammit.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92108278?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92108278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92108278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92108278' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-92047602</id><published>2003-04-05T17:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-05T17:36:33.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We just got our tickets to &lt;a href="http://www.ymouk.com"&gt;the nasheed thing&lt;/a&gt; but I still dont know if we're going or not. I &lt;I&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; wanna go. Really. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-92047602?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92047602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/92047602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92047602' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91974926</id><published>2003-04-04T10:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-04T10:55:45.590Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>good Morning, almost afternoon actually. I hate dwelling on negative thoughts and feelings so I wont. The weather is so awesome today. I've just been washing clothes by hand. Its one of my favourite things to do on a sunny day.. sad, but true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Im gonna go out now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91974926?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91974926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91974926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#91974926' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91938828</id><published>2003-04-03T21:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-21T19:34:06.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hate the war, I watch all the stupid spin-doctored news and it doesnt inspire any emotion in me. I cant feel anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Boom by System of a Down. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91938828?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91938828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91938828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#91938828' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91868112</id><published>2003-04-02T21:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-02T21:31:05.450Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some people are so bad at updating their blogs and some people keep deleting theirs, ahem. *taps foot* I'm waiting for an explanation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91868112?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91868112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91868112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#91868112' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91797755</id><published>2003-04-01T22:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-01T22:19:39.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My grandad (Dad's Dad) came back from Pakistan on Sunday. All four of my grandparents are alive, alhamdulillah. I'm not really "close" to any of them i.e. I'm no-ones favourite (the curse of being the middle child, lol). But out of all them, this grandad is my favourite. His whole day revolves around prayer time and the masjid. He's in his mid-eighties but he still walks all the way to the masjid for salah, even in winter. And he gets up every night to pray tahajjad. And he always has candy in his pocket which he gives to kids and he really likes people and he smiles a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I love my grandad and I'll continue to love my grandad right until the day when he looks at me and thinks "Isnt it about time we got you married off?" &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91797755?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91797755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91797755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#91797755' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91619913</id><published>2003-03-29T22:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-05-21T19:33:09.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm just hopeless with words, I'm not poetic or articulate or anything. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91619913?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91619913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91619913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91619913' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91439355</id><published>2003-03-26T22:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-03-26T22:42:32.796Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was a good day alhamdulillah. the weather has been awesome for days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Why is there so much coverage on the war? They never did that with any other war, why this one?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91439355?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91439355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91439355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91439355' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91374078</id><published>2003-03-25T23:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-03-25T23:08:28.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>still around y'all. I'm looking forward to tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91374078?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91374078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91374078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91374078' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-91059067</id><published>2003-03-20T14:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-03-20T23:13:01.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I really thought that war couldve been averted what with all the open opposition and all, how naive. Do you know what I hate the most about this is? George Bush. What gives him the right to do this? *bleep*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I dont see any possible good coming out of this. I should try to but I just cant, it just seems that its all in vain. All these people will die, lose their loved ones, lose their homes and its all so some stupid asshole with a God complex can get oil. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-91059067?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91059067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/91059067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91059067' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-90952885</id><published>2003-03-18T23:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-03-18T23:14:28.233Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is just too much shit happening in the world. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-90952885?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90952885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90952885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90952885' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-90818648</id><published>2003-03-16T21:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-29T21:50:55.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tada! Whatcha think? Is the template too gay? =|. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-90818648?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90818648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90818648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90818648' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-90610468</id><published>2003-03-12T21:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-04-29T21:51:18.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;I&gt;"A day in L.A. and millions of faces are looking for movement &lt;br /&gt;'Cause everything's stuck and everything's frozen and everyone's broken &lt;br /&gt;And nobody moves and everyone's scared that the motion will never come &lt;br /&gt;This is the incompletion &lt;br /&gt;Stuck in a line &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is the movement &lt;br /&gt;Love is a revolution &lt;br /&gt;This is redemption &lt;br /&gt;We don't have to slow back down "&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Love is the Movement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Is this font too big? It looks kinda big to me, hmm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-90610468?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90610468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90610468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90610468' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-90550730</id><published>2003-03-11T23:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-03-12T21:48:44.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The links are all wrong and there's no archives. *yawn*&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-90550730?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90550730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90550730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90550730' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020182.post-90447664</id><published>2003-03-10T09:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-03-12T21:42:21.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wooh, Ive made a blog! now all I gotta do is find a nice template...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020182-90447664?l=concrete_girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90447664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020182/posts/default/90447664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://concrete_girl.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90447664' title=''/><author><name>A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10667673364151323913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
