Jan 29, 2009

A Journey a Day

sunflower5rv So, can anyone explain to me how can a song repeats in one’s head over and over and over again all day (or more) long? Because I can’t take Secondhand Serenade’s Fall for You off of my head since two days ago, seriously, even myself is already bored with this song, but I just kept sing it, or only hum it, or mumble, whatever, the song is still in my brain right now. LOL, this topic isn’t even interesting, duh. Let’s just change the thing we talk about.

I went on a journey yesterday. Accompanied with a borrowed Lomo (thanks dear tse who had been kindly lent her dearest Diana+ to me), a chocolate cupcake on my bag, and a French roman ‘Trois hours chez ma mere’ I went adventuring alone, I planned to go with a friend but ended up doing it all alone. So solitude adventure isn’t all that bad, yes it’s bad when you’re lost but thanks God I didn’t yesterday. ;)

But I’m pretty sure I look 4 or 5 years younger than my real age (which will turn twenty soon, hooray!) that people think I am a lost little girl, (yes I’ve been through a lot of this kind of occasion where people think that I am 15 or something and lost without my dear parents, and yesterday at the end, a security guard came and asked me if I needed any help, ah! And how do you think I should react?

I went back home by public bus, which was crowded like hell, and I got all my eye liner smudged under my eyes because of the perspiration (I think, or because of whatever it was), and no seat left there, which wasn’t a big problem for me, but then out of the blue one guy stood and gave his seat voluntarily to me, I was like “for me?”-ing unbelievably, he might have fallen for me but I thought that was quite impossible since I used a pretty huge geek glasses yesterday (incognito! Seriously, I am not even pretty without that glasses, and with? I’m way more rocking than just that Ugly Betty you saw on TV!), or that guy is just simply kind, but why then he didn’t gave his seat to anyone else earlier? There were loads of other (more beautiful) girls standing there.

I still couldn’t make out the motive until I got home and entered my room, and finally I got the answer, you know what? The smudged black eyeliner plus my apparently quite fair skin face made me look even more tired and pale than anyone I’ve seen except in horror movies (I really didn’t realize it until I saw it on the mirror once I got home).

So the lesson is, next time you took a bus, applied more eyeliner under your eyes, smudge it, and don’t forget to add white powder to your face (if your skin isn’t already fair enough). Ta-daa, you get a seat! LOL!

It was a fun trip, though! You should try it yourself later, with public transportation please, no motorcycle or car. It’ll more or less ruin the fun ;)

Jan 27, 2009

Busy, not really…

On (long) holiday right now, about three weeks off with nothing planned. Okay, I’ve planned to learn cooking, to go to library and find something that may be useful for my memoir, to have some fun with my friends and blah blah blah, but nothing really happen successfully.

I am still thinking (a hell lot) about that guy who had already came back to his somewhere over the rainbow country (Japan that is) with no sign of turning back here, which means I don’t really stand a chance to ever see him again, and that sucks, definitely. Somehow, it feels even more annoying than just a one-sided love, there is no heart breaks but well, my little fragile heart aches one (or more) time a day whenever I think about him.

I whine too much about him, really.

So I barely have something fun to do, and that’s pretty unhealthy for me. What I do are just sitting in front of my notebook, listening to the songs on repeat, blogging, nothing really useful.

I wanted to buy a recipe book but my mom told me she had one or two in the shelf, which I am too lazy to open and look for. So here I am, stuck in an endless boredom I created myself.

Feel a little relieved that my maid is taking her day off. I don’t hate her, but of course, she’s not my favorite of all maids. I’d rather be alone than to be with her during my holiday, for real.

Oh, I spent some time to produce something, though. Thanks God that it means my holiday isn’t really a futile one. Photoshop is indeed a boredom killer, created some (not so) pretty icons last night. Mostly only cropping and coloring. I’m not so into brushes lately, nor super shiny effect. Should’ve added some words maybe, but oh well, here they are…





f1010037copyinsungk1ss5_edited-3 f1010037copyinsungk1ss5_edited-5 76id3_edited-1 76id3_edited-3
o5. o6. o7. o8.
138wd_edited-5 138wd_edited-4 188bq_edited-2 188bq_edited-5
o9. 10. 11. 12.
1170689557mg4334af0_edited-3 1170689557mg4334af0_edited-2 rhdue73nx1_edited-1 rhdue73nx1_edited-2
13. 14. 15. 16.
_MG_1261a_edited-4 _MG_1261a_edited-2
17. 18. 19. 20.
128f1125bbbbio3_edited-1 128f1125bbbbio3_edited-2 106gb_edited-1 106gb_edited-2

you may snag them without crediting but give me a few words of comment instead;
just so I know if you like it, okay baby?


Jan 22, 2009

Not Even a Single ‘hi’

uiefjesd Being as spoiled and princessy and childish as someone could ever be, I've never really regretted something. But yesterday, I did.

I used to get second chances for whatever bad things happened to me, yes, I am spoilt and lucky. Not only lucky because of the fact that I have the best of friends around, but also lucky in a real word term.

The exam would be somehow miraculously postponed when I am not ready to make a go for it, my friend would wonderfully have an extra copy of the homework when I don’t have one with me, the professor would let us open the book on the test just right when I am not at all prepared for it, etc. I've gotten like billion times of second chances moment where I can fix whatever I did wrong.

But not yesterday,

Not for this guy.

There was one guy staring at me secretly whenever we met, and I stared back at him. And whenever I stared at him, he stared back at me. There was surely something between us, I can feel it, yet no word ever came out of our lips, not even a single 'hi'. I encouraged myself to send him a smile the last time we met, wishing I could say a word or two next time we meet again, the thing that mattered was nobody told me that it was actually the last time we could ever met. He flew back to his country the next day (yes, he’s a foreign student), with the words and sentences and stories still lingered in our (or at least) my lips, stuck there, we shared not even a single 'hi'.

The thing I (still) regret the most is not about the ‘no second chance’ thing, it's about how stupid I was because actually, there were not only second, but third, fourth, fifth and God knows how many chances I've been given that I didn’t realized which led me to the fact that for the very few time in my life, I regret.

I need to find something to distract my brain from thinking of him, because no matter how many time I spend time to think about him, it would lead me nowhere but regret. I don’t even have a clue about him, didn’t even know his name. Now I do, though.

But that’s all I have.

There was one song that woke me up, a little too late, though. But this song taught me not to do my mistake again, ever again.

wait, wait till you doubt no more
wait till you know you're sure
and you will wait too long
he will be gone

(Wait; get set go -OST. Grey’s anatomy)

Jan 21, 2009

the (super) spoiled one


seriously, like everyone had ever heard or saw it by their own eyes, I am one spoilt little girl, seriously spoiled. I do and get whatever I want, I believe that somehow I have the "ability" to make people do what I want them to do. I've been living this kind of a princess-y style life for almost twenty years --and I love it. Sometimes I think it's pretty wrong, though. Being a spoilt little princess is annoying, and I know that I can be even more annoying than anyone who annoys me. I use no power, but strategies. Wide puppy eyes and a blink of tears, nobody would be able to resist that. Even someone who meets me for the very first time can tell that I am spoilt, both in good and bad ways.

As spoilt as I am, I still care about others. I do think about them a lot, even a whole lot more than I think about my spoilt little self (Thanks God time, now). I love helping people, I love to see them smile, and deep inside, for some exact people, I want them to always be happy. I love being happy, and my favorite happiness is when I can make someone happy, so happy that they shed a tear or two.

I love surprises, both make it or receive it, I don't get a lot of surprises, though. I've never had surprise birthday party because I will never forget my own birthday date. I've never had a surprise candlelight dinner because... I've never even had a planned candlelight dinner! (so, in this kind of part, my life doesn't seem so princessy anymore. lol). Make a surprise is another thing, since my favorite happiness is when I am able to see someone shed tears and smile at the very same time because of my doing, I've done some surprises, seriously, I think I am always the one who is surprised more than the target, lol, I smile wider than them and shed more tears (sometimes, when it's really touching) than them.

I love balloons and candles and tarts and whatever thing on a party, but my favorite is always my friends, above them all, it's that special friend of mine. I've never really celebrated my birthday with him, though. I'm not even sure if he knows when my birthday is, lol. We've been friends for almost four years yet we care nothing about each other's birthday. His birthday a few months ago was his first birthday that I celebrated, and I made a surprise for him. (Even me being remember his birthday was already a surprise for him...), seriously, that was our third year together and was the first time I brought a muffin for him (heck yeah, I only brought him a muffin and there was an ear-to-ear smile plastered on his face).

Jan 2, 2009

the daydreamer

Let’s start to identify the little tiara from her habit, the number one, is daydreaming.

I daydream a lot, about almost everything, almost every time, and I can do it, almost everywhere (but toilet and my bedroom are my favorites). I can daydream about the thing happened a week ago, about an event that had just happened, about dramas I watched (I know, HEROES isn’t a drama at all, but Sylar-Elle romance is (or was?), or dramas I have for myself in my love life, sometimes, when my brain is settled on the very right place (which is rarely happen), I daydream about my homework, I plan on how will I start it and how to connect every paragraph to make it coherent. But most of the time, I daydream about my future, the thing that has not happen at all yet.

Although there are lot of ways, I still can’t quite figure out about what kind of proposal would melt my heart, maybe because any kind of it would. Whether it is the super romantic one, with bunch of red roses and a ring, and him kneeling in front of me, or the childish one, when we play at the fun park in one of our dates and he out of the blue buys me an ice cream with a ring in it (I hope he wouldn’t use this one, other than quite usual, there is like hundred possibilities that i will just eat that ring up! Later on I would have to get a surgery because of it…)

I am not truly a feminist, I love to decide what I want to get, though, but then again I wouldn’t mind if my hubby to be arranged something for our wedding. If he really up to me for this, I have the plan already, I want it to be a super white wedding, (okay, not really white…), I want all the guests use white, I want the place covered fully with white textile, and the flowers should be white roses. Everything should be white, while me and my hubby use red, I want to be wrapped in a beautiful red kabaya (it’s Javanese traditional clothing), except for me and my hubby, we are the spotlight, that’s our night.

Once in a while, I imagine about our honeymoon, or then, our nights together, with kisses and hugs. Not being a pervert imaginer, it should be a sweet one. I often wonder whether I would coyly go hiding under the blanket, or simply it would be me who start the wild night.

I love to imagine my own reaction when I find out about my pregnancy, and how I will surprise my dear hubby with it, we will be busy looking for my maternity clothes and baby clothes and baby stuffs and dolls and searching up for the best baby name and such while I’m pretty sure I’ll be even more annoying than I already am when I am pregnant, I’ll be more demanding and now I am hoping my future hubby will be patient enough.

I daydream about the little family I will have with my husband (whoever he will be), and maybe a little chalet, or a simple and nice little house, I can imagine it being white and gray with some colored spots, and it’s all colorful on my baby’s room. I can imagine me cooking while waiting for my hubby to come home from his work, my baby (or babies) is/are playing in the backyard, or maybe sometimes they can help me cooking their dad’s favorite dishes. I should be working at home then, or maybe being a carrier woman, I don't know, still can't decide it yet...

On our second wedding anniversary, I want to hear Simon Webbe’s After All this time, I’ve chosen that song since quite a while ago, I don’t even know what my first wedding anniversary soundtrack is, but I know the second already. I won’t matter whether my hubby will ask me to dance or not, I don’t think I am a great dancer anyway, but seriously, it would be nice if he does ask me.

Sometimes, my expectation about the future change and it doesn’t actually hurt even a bit. Since I’ve come to a realization that how to get more is to expect less, I can be happy in so many ways I’ve figured out, so whether it’s one way or another, I wouldn’t mind, I think.

Now, I should go back to my paper and finish it off. Only one more paper left and it’ll all be done!
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