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Showing posts from February, 2014

Happy Birthday to Me! LOL

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THANK YOU, GOOGLE You know that feeling, when you wake up on the morning of your birthday and you feel, "Nothing can go wrong today because IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, BABY"? I feel like that a lot today, hahaha. IT FEELS GOOD. HAHAHAHAHA. First of all, thank you for Bayern Muenchen for the 2-0 win against Arsenal earlier this morning. I'M SORRY ARSENAL, I STILL LOVE YOU BUT I LOVE BAYERN MORE. Okay. Next... Thank you for those who remember my birthday. I'm saving your messages under a file titled "MY PRECIOUSSSSS". I know that's kind of freaky but hey, WHATEVER, hahaha. Thank you for those who gave me birthday presents. Much appreciated though no one give me vacuum cleaner again this year . Also to my brother who gave me premium tea bag (no doubt he snatched it from the economic conference he attended, but it's the thought that counts :)), I don't know why he constantly give me tea bag nowadays... Maybe my face just screams for more c

All I Ever Want for Birthday is...

Honestly, to say that "all I ever want for birthday is you" is...well...too much. I still want a lot of other things. For example, Harry Potter book 5-7. Chronicles of Narnia box set. Vacuum cleaner. A parcel of Nutella. Scholarship for neuropsychology master program (preferably in Germany, thank you very much). But if you could be a part of my birthday again, I think that would be quite awesome :) Yours faithfully, Vera

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

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source Do not stand at my grave and weep  I am not there. I do not sleep.   I am a thousand winds that blow.   I am the diamond glints on snow.   I am the sunlight on ripened grain.   I am the gentle autumn rain.   When you awaken in the morning's hush   I am the swift uplifting rush   Of quiet birds in circled flight.   I am the soft stars that shine at night.   Do not stand at my grave and cry;   I am not there. I did not die. Poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye In loving memory of my grandfather, Mansur Mulyakusumah (6 February 1938-15 June 2006) Today would be my grandpa's 76th birthday. Somehow, I think if my grandpa could choose a poem about his own death, he would choose this. I miss you, Dear Grandpa. I know you are up there in the better place with God, being a pious, honest, and intelligent person you were :)

RIP My Hamster, Furry Ball

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My dear Furry Ball, I hope you are now running in a bigger hamster wheel in heaven, eating a lot more delicious sunflower seeds, and...who knows, maybe you meet a handsome hamster-angel there too, no? I'm sorry if I and my brother didn't take care of you well enough, if our hobby was sneaking behind you while you were sleeping and giving you fright everytime. I'm sorry I was late in introducing you to the chinchilla sands, so you used it as a toilet instead.  I'm sorry I hadn't bought you the hamster ball. I'm sorry that I scold you when you nipped my fingers every time I was giving you a treat. I'm sorry that you didn't have a mate, and you couldn't give birth to hamster pups...I didn't know then that after you turned ten months old you became more territorial, and instead of mating you were fighting with your would-be mate to his death. My dear, golden red-eyed Syrian hamster...rest in peace.