tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46539558863350133092024-03-14T10:20:34.294+07:00DeiLatte~ Morning cup of coffee ~Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-56322816991130765922011-11-11T13:06:00.001+07:002011-11-11T13:06:50.073+07:00<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-74759069764954814512011-06-05T16:29:00.000+07:002011-06-05T16:29:26.593+07:00NOVENA TO THE CHILD JESUS<div align="center" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">NOVENA TO THE CHILD JESUS</span></span></b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">DAY 1</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">O Sweet Child Jesus, here at Your feet is a soul that, conscious of its nothingness turns to You, who are all. I have so much need of Your help. Look on me O! Jesus, with love since You are all powerful, help me in my poverty.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Our Father...Hail Mary...Glory Be...</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">By your Divine Infancy, O! Jesus, grant the grace that I now ask (<span style="color: #cc0000;">Express it</span>) if it is according to Your will and for my true good. Do not look upon my unworthiness, but rather on my faith and show me Your infinite mercy.</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Day 2</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">O Splendour of the heavenly Father, in whose face shines the light of the divinity. I adore You profoundly and I confess You a the true Son of the living God. I offer You, O Lord, the humble homage of all my being, Grant that I may never separate myself from You, my highest goal.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Day 3</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">O Holy Child Jesus, in gazing upon Your countenance, from which comes the most beautiful of smiles, I feel myself filled with a lively trust. Yes. I hope for all from Your goodness. Shed, O Jesus, on me and on those dear to me Your smile of grace and I will praise Your infinite mercy.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Day 4</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">O Child Jesus, whose forehead is adorned with a crown, I accept You as my absolute sovereign, I do not wish to serve any longer the evil one, my passions, or sin. Reign, O Jesus over this poor heart and make it all Yours forever.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">DAY 5</span></b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I gaze upon You, O Most Sweet Redeemer, dressed in a mantle of purple. It is Your royal attire. How it speaks to me of blood! That Blood which You have shed solely on my account. Grant, O Child Jeus that I may respond to Your great sacrifice and not refuse when You offer me some difficulty to suffer with You and for You.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">DAY 6</span></b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">O Most Lovable Child, in contemplating You as You sustain the world, my heart fills with joy. Among the innumerable beings that You sustain, I also am one. You look on me, uphold me at every instant and guard me as Your own. Look after, O Jesus, this humble being and help it in its many necessities.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Day 7</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">On Your breast, O Child Jesus, shines a Cross. It is a standard of our redemption. I also, O Divine Saviour, have my cross, that, although light, very often weighs me down. Help me to bear it and may the carrying of it be fruitful. You well know how weak and worthless I am.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Day 8</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Together with the cross, I see on Your breast, O Child Jesus, a little golden heart. It is the image of Your heart, which is truly golden on account of its infinite tenderness. You are the true friend, that generously gives Himself; even immolates Himself, for the one He loves, Continue to pour out on me. O Jesus, the enthusiasm which Your love inspires and teach me to respond always to Your great love.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Day 9</span></b></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">How many blessings, O Little Child has Your almighty right hand poured out on those who honour You and call upon You. Bless me also, O Child Jesus, my soul, my body and my interests. Bless and help me in my necessities, and grant me what I now desire. Listen with compassion to my prayers and I will bless Your Holy Name everyday.</span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><span style="color: #6633ff; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Pray the PURPLE response</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;"><br />
</div><div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;">A very powerful prayer, when you in need. :) </div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-59232310367157309852011-05-19T21:56:00.000+07:002011-05-19T21:56:25.270+07:00The Business of My OwnOops!<br />
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It happened again. I started to write, promise to continuously write things up, and the puff... disappear into thin air. So what has happened??<br />
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First, I quit my job. Yes. It was a great job, good salary, very nice colleagues and bosses. No. I have no conflict with any of them, at least not an obvious one. And No. I did make a stupid move by doing that.<br />
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A month before I quit, I thought I was going to start an EO with my friends. Told everyone about it, even used it as the reason why I decided to stop my contract. But no. It didn't happened. With some of us being busy while the other were simply M.I.A, the plan had to be buried underground.<br />
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So, I ended up starting up a business with my sister. It's a home made accessories and gift ideas where we produce various of items, from bag to stationary, and using our very own philosophy "the cuter the better".<br />
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That's where our problem begin. I never expected opening up a business would be this hard. I know theoretically, we should suffer a huge amount of loss before making the business actually working. But the drama, the fear, the doubt, the worrisome, blablabla are haunting like crazy.<br />
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I was even at one point comparing my income and workload from working for my own and working for someone else in the office, it was a pain in the ash. Long working hours and big debt are part of my life for these couple of months.<br />
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But we believe we'll be better in no time! Coz at least I believe it will work, and fate is all one (mad) (wo)man need to make all her dream come true! So wait and see!!! :DDeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-62791590729754095682011-04-12T22:20:00.000+07:002011-04-12T22:20:04.035+07:00Day 6: Picture Part 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>De Meisje</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wxJzYvydODM/TaRkvO-NfvI/AAAAAAAAAIc/uJ3NiUP8_Uk/s320/08.JPG" width="213" /></div> If you go to Volendam, there are at least two shops that offer to dress you up in Dutch traditional costumes and take a picture of you. I paid around 20 euro to get one printed copy of my picture and a CD with pictures in it. So... this is mine. Pretty cute, isn't it? :P<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Christmas Dinner</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KgqbbsdYbwQ/TaRku7oqQPI/AAAAAAAAAIg/tBLa_20MAIw/s1600/n754980406_1807814_9476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KgqbbsdYbwQ/TaRku7oqQPI/AAAAAAAAAIg/tBLa_20MAIw/s320/n754980406_1807814_9476.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>I have no idea why I chose to put this picture. But this picture was taken in an Ethiopian restaurant in Utrecht. My first Christmas far away from my family. That was also my first time eating Ethiopian food. And it was good! A bit pricey, but good! So... for anyone looking for a nice Ethiopian restaurant in Utrecht, this restaurant is located around Pathe oudegracht. Do look for it as they have a nice banana beer!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Oudegracht</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D2ODkyOdbwA/TaRkvl9y44I/AAAAAAAAAIk/wBgRuFu1K_k/s1600/DSC01460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D2ODkyOdbwA/TaRkvl9y44I/AAAAAAAAAIk/wBgRuFu1K_k/s320/DSC01460.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Lay at the center of Utrecht, I remember Oudegracht as a chain of small rivers scatter around the center of Utrecht (my Dutch sucks, but I think Oudegracht means Old Canal or something like that). I remember the time when I felt down, homesick and such, I always took a stroll around this lovely canal just to calm myself down. One of the place in Holland that I miss the most.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Dom Tower</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WZ6jqI0E_K0/TaRkw2aurvI/AAAAAAAAAIo/nePhUTlmgag/s1600/DSC01456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WZ6jqI0E_K0/TaRkw2aurvI/AAAAAAAAAIo/nePhUTlmgag/s320/DSC01456.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> The tower from Oude Kerk in Utrecht. I often used it as a direction sign every time I got lost in town. My friend love this tower so much. He was mad at me because I couldn't find a way for him to climb the tower. This picture was taken by him. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Somewhere in Holland</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pgDDJSy_570/TaRky1ti8VI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Gxa0436_t_Y/s1600/DSCN3126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pgDDJSy_570/TaRky1ti8VI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Gxa0436_t_Y/s320/DSCN3126.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Seriously, I can't remember the place where I took the picture, but I think it's in Amsterdam during a windy and foggy day. Yes. That's my gift of remembering little detail but forget the important matters.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Madurodams</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pictures below were taken in Madurodam. Madurodam is an interesting place located in Den Haag (the Hague) where you could find the miniature of Holland. It was a cute little (big) theme park. More information could be found in <span class="f"><cite><a href="http://www.madurodam.nl/"><b>madurodam.</b></a></cite></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SGuweKMY0lw/TaRkyQXm3MI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Qa6lFbyyFWQ/s1600/DSCN3192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SGuweKMY0lw/TaRkyQXm3MI/AAAAAAAAAI0/Qa6lFbyyFWQ/s320/DSCN3192.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uHfFzMWXy2c/TaRkyNU4moI/AAAAAAAAAIw/ljCtcRxW6r4/s1600/DSCN3218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uHfFzMWXy2c/TaRkyNU4moI/AAAAAAAAAIw/ljCtcRxW6r4/s320/DSCN3218.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QJte5EXEo1M/TaRkx28eRHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/zGvyGQ2z3js/s1600/DSCN3220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QJte5EXEo1M/TaRkx28eRHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/zGvyGQ2z3js/s320/DSCN3220.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>***</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Omu9KMrKH2w/TaRkzqkUaoI/AAAAAAAAAI8/C5LqKqyZyqY/s1600/DSCN3125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Omu9KMrKH2w/TaRkzqkUaoI/AAAAAAAAAI8/C5LqKqyZyqY/s320/DSCN3125.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-80698756430981833372011-04-08T10:48:00.001+07:002011-04-12T21:45:20.795+07:00Day 5: Picture part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After blogger refused to upload more than four picture in the first section and after waiting for a confusing half an hour - not very patient, I know - here's another part of the pictures. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>The Goddess </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCG0AenRlat28ha63IrBV4mXlw5TxmhkLIguDpttfYAT45HMovKjG4dBKGAyPqcuVKFSWrnFxdQ6tXKn1BRqkU2UuKetieqr4cOUXcPOjV93q70PUmLEMPzKrQyNVgQqMQSf-guiXB9ri/s1600/DSC01457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCG0AenRlat28ha63IrBV4mXlw5TxmhkLIguDpttfYAT45HMovKjG4dBKGAyPqcuVKFSWrnFxdQ6tXKn1BRqkU2UuKetieqr4cOUXcPOjV93q70PUmLEMPzKrQyNVgQqMQSf-guiXB9ri/s320/DSC01457.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Taken in front of Utrecht, Domkerk. Some information from Wikipedia:<br />
<b>St. Martin's Cathedral, Utrecht</b>, or <b>Dom Church</b> (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dutch_language" title="Dutch language">Dutch</a>: <span lang="nl"><i>Domkerk</i></span>) was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cathedral">cathedral</a> of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diocese">diocese</a> of <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utrecht_Province" title="Utrecht Province">Utrecht</a> during the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_Ages">Middle Ages</a>. Once the country's largest church and only cathedral, dedicated to Saint <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_of_Tours">Martin of Tours</a>, it has been a <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protestant" title="Protestant">Protestant</a> church since 1580. The building is the one church in the Netherlands that closely resembles the classic <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gothic_architecture" title="Gothic architecture">Gothic</a> style as developed in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/France">France</a>. All other Gothic churches in the Netherlands belong to one of the many regional variants. Unlike most of its French predecessors, the Dom Church has only one tower, the 112 m (368 ft) high <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dom_Tower_of_Utrecht" title="Dom Tower of Utrecht">Dom Tower</a></b>, which is the hallmark of the city.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>De Meern Church</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifUphyphenhyphenTIjxIu6vi8nm8_se7b8RtJWeO86saIN3OKN2aFuLjPr5ifNqT40wpKuhflnw095JHxFeQ4_3Eb2924gu7eEShk90DwwgVUReMEXqbXWt8i4CXxi9tKrRVOw-aYf41k8S7jCA_5v/s1600/DSC03206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifUphyphenhyphenTIjxIu6vi8nm8_se7b8RtJWeO86saIN3OKN2aFuLjPr5ifNqT40wpKuhflnw095JHxFeQ4_3Eb2924gu7eEShk90DwwgVUReMEXqbXWt8i4CXxi9tKrRVOw-aYf41k8S7jCA_5v/s320/DSC03206.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> T'was a foggy evening, during winter time in the Netherlands. Me and my friend, Mumba - a very nice Zambian girl, decided we need to walk to the nearest market for groceries shopping. It was Saturday and no shop will be opened on Sunday. We took the bus, got out at the wrong bus stop. Decided it's oki to get lost once in a while especially in a foggy and windy day like that. We found this church, complete with graveyard in front of it. The first thing came to our mind is that we need to take lots of pictures. So here one of them.<br />
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PS: I was thinking about silent hill the whole time. (like maybe there this zombie dogs came to attacked us, or the walking dead. Thrilling!)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>De Meern</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1GqcxMAW0xHqmiKh02g1FwBEW8xurSN-lOqa6DsAVb-xZzjdH7fmqmQQlwt5tsereAltg0hSJ6iAZTrpRtwU7pPQoRWoIbgcMmfxYZsE_Dm8CJZmZPfJjhCFp8Zt7E0Dvb_p1SVZVGH8/s1600/FILE4248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1GqcxMAW0xHqmiKh02g1FwBEW8xurSN-lOqa6DsAVb-xZzjdH7fmqmQQlwt5tsereAltg0hSJ6iAZTrpRtwU7pPQoRWoIbgcMmfxYZsE_Dm8CJZmZPfJjhCFp8Zt7E0Dvb_p1SVZVGH8/s320/FILE4248.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Mumba was sick. She asked me to go with her to the doctor. The bus came every half an hour. So while waiting for the bus, I took the picture. It was so beautiful, the place I used to live for one and a half year. De Meern is a village outside Utrecht. Far from the school, bus rarely came. I just couldn't forget those days when I used to walk under snow storm just to go to school. But it's a very nice neighborhood.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Spring Sky</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnnhxO2HrFtzJO7-8ysII07ih3VkCG5uNzXZe5FtIbC1VtP0BHMP2SsTA8Sr3PPW_rJdIasmocqKKqdYKbUczqhyphenhyphenpI6ZpN4MHc1W-dWz3BSEA2uc3b8v4IRGflZsWPBbBaxL1CaVtHMVZ/s1600/FILE4314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnnhxO2HrFtzJO7-8ysII07ih3VkCG5uNzXZe5FtIbC1VtP0BHMP2SsTA8Sr3PPW_rJdIasmocqKKqdYKbUczqhyphenhyphenpI6ZpN4MHc1W-dWz3BSEA2uc3b8v4IRGflZsWPBbBaxL1CaVtHMVZ/s320/FILE4314.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Spring sky in De Meern. Imagine you see this after being stroke by fall and winter for more than 6 months. Rain, snow, wind, storm... this scenery was so enlightening, I just felt like I have to take picture out of it.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>The Bird in The Station</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3LisPlHS-xvtuGtAK8fxDMBPf1cWpQZCWwkMy4ty1XLXQh0r6SL7dfEMqBYZBdARoM3QMEE4AcQVRM75ek4KLY8h1-zG0bj3jE_Mt5IZsuLI4JH8q-5uS2kjmoXioYAUoiRzEDhC1LaiQ/s1600/DSC03039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3LisPlHS-xvtuGtAK8fxDMBPf1cWpQZCWwkMy4ty1XLXQh0r6SL7dfEMqBYZBdARoM3QMEE4AcQVRM75ek4KLY8h1-zG0bj3jE_Mt5IZsuLI4JH8q-5uS2kjmoXioYAUoiRzEDhC1LaiQ/s320/DSC03039.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Taken in Utrecht Centraal Station, birds are just playing around in the station area. One time during winter, me and my friends were joking about how we were going to catch each and every one of the bird and cooked them for our dinner if the school did not disburse our monthly allowance anytime soon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Where There's Pole, There's Bike</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAXGFXv3sSZPhsh4fXn2BvdiQL4loXUG_Zi3sSwsw346GF3Ebc4mLa3RldA5hDnSK7AMfLGYt0uj8Q7tlKb_0EMO15TyjKlYYQjM1ynzlTZhBx1qucsPxPaRgQOvUSc7WQ1F4gE8aWJS4/s320/FILE4510.JPG" width="240" /></div> Typical Holland! :D<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>What's This?</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjagCdn4ITQ0QTLAh48kUF090BoioMJ4whbBbZF8voX3qQWMUQ8wCCvydetvpG8gRG4P2h9fpvT79QCrOABpkU0exIcm3dWTXTQyefgxsSBksuiQfG43bwaeCuJ9DJ6_eWcoBYggyNvTX/s1600/FILE4521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjagCdn4ITQ0QTLAh48kUF090BoioMJ4whbBbZF8voX3qQWMUQ8wCCvydetvpG8gRG4P2h9fpvT79QCrOABpkU0exIcm3dWTXTQyefgxsSBksuiQfG43bwaeCuJ9DJ6_eWcoBYggyNvTX/s320/FILE4521.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This actually has special meaning for me. It's a pillow belong to Mumba and I named it Catepee. It does look like caterpillar, doesn't it? So... I used to spent time in Mumba's room when I felt lonely and homesick in my room. We lived at the same student house. She would just do her own business, with her loud sound system playing her kind of song, and I would just sit there and fell asleep. I miss her! :(<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Hogeschool Utrecht!</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1G5G0O4EKRTwXHNLy6R87D7uHdqrjm-oo_FYEeZXnfACbiL3SF_JBNeEcKuiUQY1ivQdUmoBRaFngyb35ssGhfCfP7WQtNr9lSL1Pj0CWSuy2wWwUG5kZ0pofX8bSx3jVCGLMjdpv7W4/s1600/FILE4799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1G5G0O4EKRTwXHNLy6R87D7uHdqrjm-oo_FYEeZXnfACbiL3SF_JBNeEcKuiUQY1ivQdUmoBRaFngyb35ssGhfCfP7WQtNr9lSL1Pj0CWSuy2wWwUG5kZ0pofX8bSx3jVCGLMjdpv7W4/s320/FILE4799.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The scenery that I always saw when I left school. But this one time, it was so pretty I couldn't help myself not to take picture of it.Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-43901533209886896212011-04-08T09:42:00.001+07:002011-04-12T21:44:46.941+07:00Day 4: Pictures Part 1 When I was studying in Holland, I kind of took pictures that I haven't been able to upload for some times. Now that I have lots of free time, I'll just going to upload it. Since blogger turned me down every time I tried to upload more than 4, so here we go. The first part of the pictures and the story behind it. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_884905301" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4l5LeOBzbukKTsK8pvCTFhdlvNoxDE5u-VkWIUDdrYKNAizoLkpzEEkgp9JvQXhTDfLKBBgh-vXpsFKjybysLapXx2_QJqFdvI_lUnS4SdGhgtgl70CU0PbJLqvLmPjV0uf_0l_0vtlvT/s320/butachan%2521+man.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><b>Butachan, The Pink Piggie</b><br />
I bought Butachan before I went to Holland. Got attracted by its fluffiness and cuteness. Buta-chan literally means Piggy in Japanese.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGxjcrarRtOaD-iCl2GPXPkEbYJHQx9woTJGBlm3ztuNNycGIfh3meQ4giwYaPb1U42F9fRnzOU5ZxiVhaC7se8Ln61-ouh_DZUvyLgPL8rK4EaQIgHmAveKeG-Ye-7fDN-fM0y78fhl1/s320/DSC01407.JPG" width="320" /></div><br />
<b>Port of Volendam</b><br />
I went to Volendam with a good friend of mine. He lived in Switzerland. Back then, even though I have lived in Holland for around a year, winter kinda locked me up inside my house. I never went anywhere except Utrecht, school and home. So when my friend came over for a visit, he's the one drag me all over Holland to enjoy the country. Volendam was one of the city he picked (he actually wanted to go to Edam to buy some cheese, since we couldn't find the way there, we decided to go to Volendam). And I fell in love with the city that moment I got there. I miss Volendam!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_884905301" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6NIAkYcloCQoR4BrgBLow9qXQCdRGhXJ7TlNj03d51Y05SzqSiuloh-CM3Yprcgr2r5Fq-NgzC6oz68tc-9CYpJvu36YrBiPbv2RPsoyfBiNSlGLxhLW1YVMQc0RD8Xw3Mj9sLQsIvPc/s320/DSC01408.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><b>The Volendam Village</b><br />
Still part of Volendam. One of my Dutch favorite singer is Volendamese. His name is Jan Smit. Though most, if not all, my Dutch friend dislike him, I think he's pretty cute and has a nice voice. By the way, according to my friend, Volendamese are famous for cross family marriage. Most Volendamese will marry other Volendamese. Thus, there are around four biggest family name in the Volendam village that confused me, as I though my friend's friends were brother since they have the same last name and both live in Volendam and both have similar physical characteristic. But they aren't.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_884905301"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiIbEld8ZLrwoUr4ULelNtcf-POQbsXmKu1xUmDVzhxoi0Jp3X7yIPX4YlDk2ykV7SPGkmeO6_9x0zGykknnS0EsYDa0FadtMt9mPxfBLNeZ-0QkHaJb58xvDCPFXlWdCwBg6PnCluj96/s320/DSC01414.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><b>Mr. Dog</b><br />
Just a random dog picture taken by my friend in Volendam. It was a cold spring, but this one dog was playing actively with waves. Very cute.Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-38880837574196961322011-04-07T00:01:00.000+07:002011-04-07T00:01:42.741+07:00Day 3: Hypocrite<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> <w:UseFELayout/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><!--[endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal">Human are actually similar to animal in term of behavior. There are patterns that can be generated if observed thoroughly. <span> </span>These patterns are applicable to all, borderless. Some patterns could even be found in animal. Love, for example, is the human language for sex in animal kingdom. “I love you. Let’s have sex!” is probably similar to “I bite you. Let’s have sex!” among some species in shark. Yet, since human tend to think they have higher caste than animal, sex-love argument is often being used as thing-that-makes-us-different-than-animal. This argument was also being used by the missionaries when they invaded Latin-America. They were the one who taught the local that the only sex position acceptable before God’s eyes was missionary position and that this style was the one differentiate human and non-human. I bet they did doggy style back then. Oh... and do you know that bat also perform fellatio? Dolphin enjoys sex? Maybe I should do deeper research on the topic. :D</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The introduction has nothing to do actually with what I want to write. I just got drifted away. Sorry. Nonetheless, the behavior pattern I would like to write tonight is about being a hypocrite. According to Miriam-Webster dictionary, a hypocrite is a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am human. I made tons of mistakes my whole life. Huge one, small one, white lies, black lies, yellow lies, you get my point. One thing that I really am appreciated is when people being brave by acknowledging their feeling. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">There was this blackout in the afternoon. Very short, only five second each. But it happened again and again. I got a little bit touchy since my laptop crashed every time it happened. <span> </span>I went to protest and being told to shut up and use my anger to do something useful instead of complaining things. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Um… yes. Got that!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I didn’t even THAT mad in the first place. I just want to say something just to let my emotion go. But it’s cool. I sat down quietly, being the sweetest girl in the world.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">One minute later, the lady who told me to STFU, started to complain. Sitting there in the dark, doing absolutely nothing, I decided to see how long she’s going to complain. It turned out to be the whole hour. I didn’t even care to protest. I was amazed and puzzled. Why on earth she told me to be quiet while she opened her mouth for more than an hour.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">I just thought that if each of us has a little mirror that shows things we said and things we did, maybe the number of hypocrite will be less in the world. But then again, maybe I did something like that in the past. Who knows? I’m just human after all…</div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-41209702988419136532011-04-05T21:42:00.001+07:002011-04-05T21:46:49.072+07:00Day 2: The Power of Mind<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">My maid at home has been married for more than ten years. She has not being given any children yet. She’s constantly hurt by people asking her if she ever get any child. Background information, it is pretty common in Asia, once you get married, people will start asking you if you’re pregnant already. In most cases, people who have been married for years find this question rather insulting – which I am fully agreed with them. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My maid is a very lively lady who always response things hurting her with jokes, though I know, this children thing is killing her inside. With a big smile on her face, she accepted my suggestion that children are not that important in marriage with her own wisdom, “But then your marriage will not be completed without them.” I often argued back though she always sticks with her opinion. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
It’s been two and a half month she did not get her period. Knowing her since I was a child, including her period pattern, my family and I assumed she was pregnant. Off course she also had other symptom, like morning sickness, feeling weak, tired all the time, you named it since I haven’t been pregnant myself. So yeah… not being confirmed by anyone, our house was fully agreed that she’s pregnant. Just to be sure, we asked her to take pregnancy test and even create an early-retirement plan just in case she’s actually pregnant. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Turn out the result’s negative. Yet the symptom continues. Being all positive, she showed me the pregnancy test result and said “maybe because it’s cheap it’s being inaccurate” or “look there’s a shadow of a second line, maybe it’s not strong enough.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Skeptically, I just said “Maybe you’re heading toward your menopause?” She’s just 30. Evil me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yesterday, the symptoms were getting worse. She was totally nauseated she practically throw up the whole morning (she told me, I wasn’t even notice). Doctor, we’re so coming! So she went to the doctor with her hubby, took another pregnancy test – which result was negative as well, and being checked for women health related issues. All showed negative and her condition was totally perfect. Except maybe for the fact that she’s feeling something is off. The doctor gave her hormone pills and a little cup for her husband to fill with – you know, that thing – which I regret why on earth that I she had to tell me every single detail behind it. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then comes today. The day when she found out she was not menopause (she was so glad), but she was not pregnant either. Doctor miracle works! She’s having her period. So she started to question herself and me that were with her during the whole situation and being used as an expert opinion. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What had happen to her? </div><div class="MsoNormal">Why on earth did she think and absolutely feel like she was pregnant?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Facing it with a big smile… I know she’s absolutely hurt inside.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">By the time I decided to write something, I remember that once I read about expressing your feeling to the extreme, your body will start to adjust to your mind. True I read it in a manga about a sea lion or something feels like she was pregnant while in fact her cell mate was. She just shares the feeling. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
I thought maybe this is what actually happened to my dear maid. She wants to get pregnant so bad. People started telling her she was. She starting to feel she was. While in reality, she is not pregnant. She just feels that way. That another proof of how strong and powerful our mind really is. We could actually influence our body, our behavior, everything just by thinking that we were something else. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Which brought me to this idea, if I feel being skinny and losing weight, will I really stop eating and become skinny? Let’s just call it the power of mind diet and see if it’s really working. Maybe I could write a diet book and become billionaire just like Richard Branson? Why not!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">PS: I know you won't understand any word I wrote in this blog, but I will always support you :)</div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-83631040300277528232011-04-04T15:49:00.001+07:002011-04-05T21:47:58.783+07:00Day 1: I found myself treasures!<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">After years – well... actually it’s not that long, only three and a half years – living away from my mom, I decided to go back to her house and take a break from my ME activity. That’s including go out, work, study, or any kind of activities that push me away from my mom. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Like always, me as a hot-and-cold kind of person, have made up my mind that I am going to record every single day during my hibernation period. Hopefully, this time it goes well and not being left alone in the middle of April. :D</div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day One: I found myself treasures!</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">April 4, 2011 – 15.00</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My house has been rebuilt for almost six months up to now. Thanks goodness my room is safe from the dust disaster. Being the center of development, my mom’s room is totally torn apart. As I suspected, she decided to move into my room.</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">It was not a problem in the beginning, since I barely slept there. But as soon as I’m moving back in, things were getting slightly complicated. My mom is a ‘keeper’ in a way. She keeps all stuff she receives even things like bills and papers. She likes to put things in places, unorganized, creating a massive chaos in my room. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Being an impulsive clean-freak, I made up my mind that I had enough with her ‘stuffs’ and finally had the gut to tell her how I need to clean my room since I’m going to work from there. Last night I held her hand and looked her in the eyes and said, “Mom, I love you. But I really need to clean my room, kay?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">……</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And there’s this silent moment just like every time we discussed about that specific matter. Last time I remembered talking about this to her, we ended up arguing. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thanks God she finally said, “Please put my stuff in a box so that I could easily find it next time.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yaaaay! Victory! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So that’s how I finally decided to clean my room. Changed clothes – Done. Prepare the mop – Done. Drinking anti-allergy drug – Done! I was so well prepared!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Starting with my old stuff, I found old pictures of me and my ex during our holiday in Holland. It was a fun time – not really – boxed. Next! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My mom’s perfume collections got separated into several plastic bags – collected them – put them together – boxed. Next!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Papers! Yuuuum! My favorite… not. Put this here, put this there. Wait a minute! What is it? A funny looking old magazine! Let slack a bit and read – after all reading is always a good way to improve your knowledge, isn’t it? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">One minute reading…. Two minute reading… weird! This old magazine is full of naked picture as in real pictures and photographs. Let’s try the article… woooow! Like reading a porn script! What in hell is this old magazine? The cover has been torn apart. Looking… looking… looking harder and… AHA! Penthouse October 1987 edition!!! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I HAVE FOUND MYSELF A TREASURE!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Nice, I said, with a big grin on my face. The penthouse published just a couple months after I was born. What a treasure! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Afraid my mom will now I accidentally found a treasure. I put the vintage penthouse back to the envelope that covers it and put it in the box together with my mom other stuff. Back to my old cleaning up spirit. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">PS: They have a nice art in the magazine btw. </div><div class="MsoNormal">PSS: One most memorable quote, “I really don’t like drawing men with women. It will only disgrace the beauty of the women!” ~ an artist whose paintings being published inside Penthouse. </div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-25576531039743297722011-02-11T11:44:00.000+07:002011-02-11T11:44:23.986+07:00What to become of you, Indonesia?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>IN</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> <w:UseFELayout/> </w:Compatibility> <w:DoNotOptimizeForBrowser/> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I really don’t know if I’m at the right position to write this down. But the news on what happened in Indonesia lately is really starting to piss me off. Indonesia is slowly turning into a chaotic country, where the differences between people that has been the characteristic of Indonesia, that had always being drilled into every individual’s head since the first time they step on school, that Bhineka Tunggal Ika, were just gone. I have the rights to criticize every parties, because I am the product of the Bhineka Tunggal Ika myself. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I keep on asking, what to become of you, Indonesia?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I remember when I was around 10, elementary school. My teacher kept on telling me, in social science, religion study, ethic and moral education, even history, that Indonesia is a country based on Democracy. That every person has the same rights, the same responsibility. Oh trust me, it all written in the Basic Regulation year 1945, the mother of all regulation in Indonesia. We even have Pancasila, which to be honest, I think 90% of most adult, running their own shows in the country do not remember any of its’ five beautiful points. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Indonesia was pretty good back then. We were peaceful. Well, at least looked like we were peaceful. We do have a dictator-kind-of-president. I remembered my dad told me that the president remind the same since he was born and I thought it was pretty normal for a man to become a president that long. Well, at least in my head, things were lots better back then. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I was born in a multicultural family. My dad is Javanese and off course he’s Muslim. My mom is Chinese, she’s Catholic. My grandparents from my mom were Buddhist and her brothers were Christian and the other had no religion (he was practicing some voodoo lalala thingie). My mom and dad had an interfaith, interracial married, which like most of interracial married back in the 80’s, were being mocked and rejected by most people, including my grandparents. But they did not give up hope. My dad was trying to proof to my mom’s parents that he could make my mom happy. He had decent job, bought a house, made the furniture himself (thought I do have to admit he had no sense of style at all). My mom was contacting the “Father” in church because she really wanted to get married there. Finally, they were married in both church and KUA. My dad got to taste ‘bread’ and ‘wine’ of the church and my mom got ‘mas kawin seperangkat alat sholat’ – which is very pretty (off course she never took it out from the box). The ice melted when I was born. Me. The cute little baby. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">My mom and dad had an agreement over their child religion. If the baby was a boy, he’ll follow my dad’s religion, if the baby was girl, my mom took the responsibility over. Off course, being a girl, I went to church every Sunday with my mom (or else she would cut my pocket money). However, being all curious small me, I preferred to be a ping pong ball. I was (and still am) curious of all religion existed in the world. I went to catholic school in the morning, took a Muslim praying class (<i>ngaji</i>) and learned to do the prayer (<i>sholat</i>) from my dad by night – I managed to pass Iqro 2! I went to Buddhist temple and read most of my grandma and uncle book over their way of life. I do have to admit, I enjoyed it and it has shaped me in a way, I become the possibly liberal girl you’ve ever known concerning religion.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I read bible and Quran at the same time. Comparing them side by side and open a discussion over religion with whoever wants to discussed it with me (mostly my dad and my uncle from my dad’s side). I think I know some of Muslim basic rules, more than a Muslim themselves – like why you have to wear loose clothes and headscarf, and there are both religion and scientific reason behind it. Why Muslims are not allowed to eat pig, and I just can’t stop eating them even though there’s a line in the bible telling all catholic who concern enough to read not to eat it either. And about an act of Muslims that I condemned so much, Polygamy – stop telling me that because of Muhammad S.W.A conducted it, then YOU, prophet wannabe also allowed to do that as well. First of all, human CANNOT be fair, especially if it related to things under your belly. Second of all, look who he’d married and do correlate it with the situation back then? Got my point? Ups… getting shifted. Sorry.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Anyway, what I want to say from my essay above is why do lately, people just couldn’t get along with one another, especially in term of religions and race? Why do people kill for God? He does not teach you to kill. He teaches you love. He teaches me love. But the point is… all religion teach you the same. LOVE. GOOD DEEDS. FORGIVENESS. Why do things like church banned, killing over other religion, burned stuff, happened? I know you try to defend your religion, but isn’t religion the connection between you and the highest being?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Do we really want to make him sad by doing things He does not want us to do? Do we really have the rights to tell people what to believe and how they want to believe? Are we all perfect enough to kill for God? He’s the one who give us life; he’s the one who can take it as well. He does not need us to fight for Him. He just wants us to do what he taught us, LOVE for others.</span></div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-2094780863121562712010-10-29T09:12:00.000+07:002010-10-29T09:12:15.277+07:00My Idealism<div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">As who am I to try to convince people what the best is. Yet, I acknowledge my basic human right, freedom of speech . Toward the idea of <span style="font-style: italic;">what a retard</span> kind of opinion that might pops up when someone read this. I don’t care. That much. </div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span> </span>It's about my idealism. A simple thought just enough to say what kind of person I am and why I do certain thing. Maybe it's called the core value of a human being - I'm not sure since I was graduated as philanthropist and not a psychologist.</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span> </span>Anyway, my idealism is as simple as <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">"Treat people the way you want to be treated"</span></div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">In practice:<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div><ul><li><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">Don’t bug people unless I want to be bug by them</span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">Never say bad things to someone or using bad tones that might hurt them on purpose unless I am ready to be treated like that - heck! I don’t wanna be hurt by sarcasm.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">Cant let someone feel ignored and unloved coz I've been there and it totally kills.</span> </li>
</ul><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">And other stuff. </div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">My sister was kinda helping me by making it simple and called my idealism as <span style="font-style: italic;">'a complete egoist'</span>. I heard it as if she's said '<span style="font-style: italic;">you are an egoist bitch!</span>'. Tells me that I am too ignorant. As much as I love arguing - it's a new branch of sport for me, I can't seem to get this straight with her.</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">Let me try to make it clear why I think it's a good idealism.</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">Seeing that I don’t wanna be treated like hell, I try to do good to people. As good as I could. I don’t do colonialism toward people weaker and smaller than me coz they are all human who have hearts. Every moment when I am not under alcohol or high-level of stress, I always think what it is for them. How would I feel if I were them. </div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">I never understand some people who acknowledge themselves as '<span style="font-style: italic;">caring, nice, understanding'</span> person, but shows different reaction. This is what I meant: have you ever know anyone, who always treat you in a way hurt you, like borrow money from you, and you always let them do that. But once you asked them to lent you money, they were treating you like a beggar who's going to steal his money. RUBBISH!</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">Or someone whose heart easily hurt when you talk sh*t to them. But they always do the same thing to you? You need to pay attention to what you say to them and look at them! Throw rubbish right into your eyes. OUCH!</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">I HATE that kind of people.<span> </span>If I talk rubbish to someone, they can do the same to me. If they disrespect me, tell me one reason not to do that back.</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">And just because I care and being nice about someone, doesn’t mean I like them or they treat me lightly. </span>There is reason for everything. I just don’t want to let anyone feel alone, unloved, forgotten. I always trying to be A GOOD FRIEND and if that creates misunderstanding or it gives you a reason to bully me. Use me as your garbage can. As your television. As your pillow. Sorry sir. You need to get away at this instance! </div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">Yeah… and still people think I'm an egoist bitch. Life oh life… </div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-67984132747784928862010-10-27T10:33:00.002+07:002010-10-27T10:46:33.554+07:00Life<span xmlns=""> <br />
<br />
Old proverb says, life is like a wheel. One day your on the top. The next day you might be on the lowest bottom. When you are on top, enjoy it. Feel it. It won't last forever. Neither when you're in the bottom. Be strong. Do your best. As one day you will get back to the top and you surely do not want to forget how it feels to be in the bottom.<br />
<br />
New proverb says, destiny is in your hands. There is no such thing as coincidence and you are what you made yourself into. Always work to the hardest. Fulfill your inner and outer needs. You will be just fine! There is nothing to put you down.<br />
<br />
I am what you call, the combination of old and new. Just like a new year eve. I humbly stated that I totally believe in what you call destiny. The higher power that human can't control. The wheel of life. Yet, I also believe you are the one to determine the speed of its rotation. The faster the speed, the less you would feel the up and down in it.<br />
<br />
Anyway, this morning I wonder where is my current position. I figured, probably I am at my bottom with deviations, means I might going there or leave there. Which is fine. Totally. Well… maybe not really.<br />
<br />
Graduation and Job? That's my wheel's peak.<br />
Working and Work out? That's my stress relieve.<br />
Myself and Family? That's what I live for (at least now)<br />
Personal Relationship with people who USED TO be close to me? Aaaw… somebody kill me!<br />
<br />
I wonder what have I done to make me deserve it. But then again, I'm only human who often feel perfection is my middle name. Maybe I did something in the past that hurt them, and now as the wheel turn down, the karma are going back to me. I am sorry people. For what I did :)<br />
<br />
Well… Look at the time. I gotta go back to work! My sweet escape! (Oh no!! I'm losing it).<br />
<br />
I might post something again soon. If I'm still feeling blue. Or pink. Or purple.<br />
WATEVER. <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">The past is the past.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Move on.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">It is not the present.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Learn something.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">It cannot be the future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Afraid not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Move on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Learn Something.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Afraid not. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">As the past is the past.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Not the present.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Corbel;">Nor the future.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-57078286372690032562010-10-06T15:09:00.000+07:002010-10-06T15:09:14.016+07:00The Over-Nourished and The Mal-NourishedIn my life's book, being an over-nourish woman, I always get so jealous of model like skinny people and how I curse my rather impulsive eating behavior that sometimes turn into a psychological problem. I always think that these skinny people are so damn lucky because they could be so thin, it's amazing in my eyes.<br />
<br />
And that's when the devil called "diet" comes to the thought.<br />
<br />
Thinking about number of food I've wasted just because I want to look like those skinny person. Number of food I've consumed just because I want to eat them. Impulsively.<br />
Number of food I always left in my plate every time I eat out and order too much or when the lady put too much "things-i-don't-like" on my plate.<br />
<br />
Now I turn the page in my life's book. Forget about those skinny supermodel like that I am carving to have body like. Who probably do similar thing as what I 'normally' do but in a more successful way.<br />
<br />
There are also other skinny people, who I rarely seen in my life before I was half-forced to turn my eyes into them. The malnourished. <br />
<br />
How society, lifestyle, and environment treat them unfairly. These children, come from a very poor family with dozens of children. Their parents only know how to made them without even care to give a proper care to them. Give them $1 and they will gladly spend it on cigars while force their 5 months baby to eat rice that they chew first to make it 'soft enough' for the baby. WTH?!<br />
<br />
And one who does care for their baby, do not have enough food or money to buy them food. People like me, with tons of wasted food. Also contribute to what happen to these babies.<br />
<br />
If only all the wealthy enough people care to share their food with those who malnourished, perhaps there would be no more babies die because they couldn't get enough food.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://asset.soup.io/asset/0438/5169_06f9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="http://asset.soup.io/asset/0438/5169_06f9.jpeg" width="200" /></a>People like them, who just want to eat to be healthy but can't afford the food.<br />
<br />
<br />
vs<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>People like me, who are blessed with food, but decided to waste them just for stupid reasons.Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-91229950511506390322010-08-27T22:25:00.000+07:002010-08-27T22:25:37.873+07:00The movement of a parasiteI am in the middle of the biggest change in my life. Change from being a student, the living parasite for my mom, into an unemployed, even worse parasite. Yesh. I got my degree!<br />
<br />
Being unemployed actually changed me in a way. I recollect things that I left behind in the past, either by accident or on purpose. I came closer to my Lord and try to redeem every mistakes I made in the past (while still doing most of it, off course, I'm just a human with need).<br />
<br />
I found worried, peace, comfort, confusion, many many things during this period, that hopefully changed me into a better bigger person (NOT physically).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw489vIpFjPTBk-nOdS2Z5anDCOmk45A2YH9wQTjqvp45BtWhPKT8PorZlqT9tDRKNMj727_RiQLNhDgu97WqdtvO-KZ93z7QlP1kIkttiPnsj-DYfOsfRLWBNHvd_wMnfLuE2wI_IwSBk/s1600/27082010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw489vIpFjPTBk-nOdS2Z5anDCOmk45A2YH9wQTjqvp45BtWhPKT8PorZlqT9tDRKNMj727_RiQLNhDgu97WqdtvO-KZ93z7QlP1kIkttiPnsj-DYfOsfRLWBNHvd_wMnfLuE2wI_IwSBk/s400/27082010.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Graduation ceremony, is kinda marking the path that I left behind. All (almost) 20 years of education, 5 years in college that seems like forever, that influenced my life, how I think, how I behave (that apparently very confusing for many people), and in the end lead me to be a mature D.<br />
<br />
I am no longer a confuse teenagers that trying to find what to do, where to go, how to behave and who to follow.<br />
I am the exact myself with all my stupid noble idealism, that believe the Almighty will use me to change the world into a better places.<br />
<br />
So.. yeah.. I know I have changed from being a parasite into a superwoman wannabe. But hey! Dreams can come true if u dare to work it out anyway!!!Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-43996893298806355622010-07-21T13:34:00.001+07:002010-07-21T13:35:21.713+07:00Friendship Heart-edI really don't know if I really am a big heart-ed person, trying to be one, or only pretending to be one. <br />
Whatever the case is, I am just afraid of being hurt. Mentally. And since I can't stand the pain in my body (my pain tolerant improved since I came back from Cambodia)... well.. you guess!<br />
<br />
My friend told me I am a very weak person, physically, yet have a strong heart. At this point of my life, I kinda doubt that. Maybe it's just me being all sensitive before my period. But yeah... only heaven knows.<br />
<br />
I am not having a boy problem or heart broken. It's more of an ego issue. A friendship problem. I am not saying having no friend will make things better, just like saying having no boy/girl-friend is better than having one. It's just, being ignore by someone you thought you are special to them as they are for you make things worse.<br />
<br />
A quote from <b>Peter Winstanley</b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><i style="color: purple; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Walking, working, barely breathing<br />
My thoughts, far away<br />
Heart aching, mind racing<br />
Sleep does not come easily, nor last long....</span></i><br />
</span><br />
Not quite right...<br />
<br />
Another quotes just to tell what I kinda want<br />
<br />
<div style="color: purple; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">If you're alone, I'll be your shadow. If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder. If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow. If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile. But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me. ~</span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Author Unknown</b></span> </div><br />
Oh well...<br />
Shit does happen...Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-63150328672183925452010-07-21T07:07:00.001+07:002010-07-21T13:35:43.455+07:00Inner PeaceHave you ever feel lost and have no place to run to?<br />
Have you ever been in a situation where you have to hide your true feeling, faking smile, pretend you don't care but the truth is that you are crying for help and comfort?<br />
<br />
I used to feel this feeling, feel lost like I can't breath anymore because they suck all air around me.<br />
My fake smiles only made me feel even worse. It doesn't solve anything. I am the type of person, who could borrow one ear or two just to make me feel better.<br />
<br />
But this time is different. I feel completely lost and lonely and trap. So bad till I can't tell anyone how miserable I was.<br />
<br />
One moment, I decided to make peace with my inner side, my God. I started to pray more often. Having deeper faith and utter resignation. Daring myself to go back to church (before this, I am kinda ashamed going to church because of all that I've done. I felt like, I don't deserve to be here. That's why I don't go to church often - other than being lazy off course). <br />
<br />
I never expected the feeling would be totally different. I thought I won't feel anything, I won't solve anything. But I was so wrong.<br />
<br />
I feel peace and comfort. Like being around my mom and dad.<br />
I feel love and forgiveness. Like the feeling when my dad said it's okay after I did something wrong.<br />
I feel happiness, friendship, and many other things that makes me feel stronger and less lonely.<br />
<br />
I feel the true friendship, someone that will never leave you alone. Someone that wont give you headache for the dramas. Someone who love you unconditionally. Someone who truly love you.Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-35169157558359480922010-07-19T20:05:00.001+07:002010-07-21T13:36:18.686+07:00Baby steps of my life - graduation feelingHow does it feel to be graduated?<br />
<br />
Like every small steps you are taking in life, it feels very good! At the moment it happened.<br />
<br />
I remember during my defense, the night when I prepared the presentation, the confusion on picking the clothes I am going to wear. It was tense, stressful, fun, and many other feelings that came with it.<br />
<br />
And I remember I almost late going to my defense, when my mom called me crazy coz it's 20 minutes to the defense but I'm still at home. But hey I made it in time ;). I presented what I need to present. I explain what I did and how I operated.<br />
<br />
15 minutes of waiting and they starting to tell me what I need to improve. Till the end, they told me I passed. I was delighted.<br />
<br />
And here I am. Still thanking God for His miracle and help. But the happiness is diminishing. The stress level is increasing. I need to start moving to the next step of my life, finding a job, applying for master degree.<br />
<br />
The baby steps of my life need to continue. And I am taking action to move my legs forward (thought is so bloody slow)Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-4704523617854467552010-06-20T19:17:00.000+07:002010-06-20T19:17:13.393+07:00One Last WeekTime is really really running faster lately!<br />
<br />
I can't believe I only get one week left in Cambodia. Felt like yesterday when I arrived at Phnom Penh, alone and lost coz no one forgot to pick me up at the airport. Drove around for $7 (freaking expensive! damn tuk2 driver!!) from airport to the city. Went to Top Banana only to step in for 5 minutes and left totally freak out coz I saw drunk group of men laying around at the lobby with weed and bottles of boozes laying around on the floor. At that time I thought "DAMN!!! I SCARED!"<br />
<br />
One week.. Two week.. I'm getting used Cambodia. Yeah.. though if I said Cambodia, I mean the village-out-of-civilization where I stayed all this time (let's called it Sre Ampil) and PP. And now, one week left from departure, I feel kinda happy/sad. Happy coz finally I could face my defense! (abnormal, I know!). Whatever the case, I learned many many things here.<br />
<br />
I killed my fear against insect.<br />
I dreamed to go to dangerous places.<br />
I learned how to be a meannie to people who want me to ~ yesh... neorago!<br />
I fell from Motorcycle ~ actually thrown away from motorcycle<br />
I got wounded and bruises and off course mosquitoes bites!<br />
I was punched, body slammed, suffocated, restrained, burned~~ what actually I'm doing in Cambodia????<br />
<br />
But... One thing for sure, it made me a stronger than ever person!<br />
<br />
THANK YOU CAMBODIA!!<br />
<br />
PS: Your food makes me fatter as well! :|Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-86353352969993796192010-04-20T20:37:00.000+07:002010-04-20T20:37:23.331+07:00My first and last eating dog meat :(Before the Khmer New Year (13 - 15 April) Kamworks staff decided to make a barbecue party. With $5 contribution from each member, the barbecue was supposed to have many many of beer and meat!<br />
<br />
Being all excited on what kind of meat will be served during BBQ, I marched to the front line of the table and volunteered myself to help the chef. That was the time I learned that they served DOG MEAT.<br />
<br />
I vowed never to try the dog. But then my friends forced me to try it. Curious by the taste of dog. I decided to take a bite from my friend (he ate a big chunk of it!).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcF33EwrOPyrLbSPcQD1keoMnT7VCfxakhsJ4_flUTDBRcXLZltgNwz412wz-1clq_HxJhtP_cfHKK2WcqdOl3uq1HoD65ZqoTsS-tQxSmhY36sAN9VUid69nm4zTRcpeqliCCUGmZC-Ld/s1600/SDC10124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcF33EwrOPyrLbSPcQD1keoMnT7VCfxakhsJ4_flUTDBRcXLZltgNwz412wz-1clq_HxJhtP_cfHKK2WcqdOl3uq1HoD65ZqoTsS-tQxSmhY36sAN9VUid69nm4zTRcpeqliCCUGmZC-Ld/s320/SDC10124.JPG" /></a></div>I have to admit the chef is very good! It actually taste like beef.<br />
<br />
However, struggling to chew it for 5 minutes, I failed to swallow it. I had to run to the toilet to throw it out of my digestion system. I couldn't get rid the picture of a very cute puppy from my head. I really promise myself I wont eat such cruelty ever again!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHbQG5XbQ9VsQ0JU2-YTgkmRq-NhtAQHIkIcGwYhhrjECrTssLHYiLZ2zp5gLuZ1xo6dlDPkRNIqReW7dS6JF0V5WL8jIQ4N7Vu1kSoOmNrmaXNYaxFIsR3JW2zdPgtlj6y-Nlmd9X17_/s1600/SDC10151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHbQG5XbQ9VsQ0JU2-YTgkmRq-NhtAQHIkIcGwYhhrjECrTssLHYiLZ2zp5gLuZ1xo6dlDPkRNIqReW7dS6JF0V5WL8jIQ4N7Vu1kSoOmNrmaXNYaxFIsR3JW2zdPgtlj6y-Nlmd9X17_/s320/SDC10151.JPG" /></a></div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-59104996553465545242010-04-19T17:23:00.000+07:002010-04-19T17:23:45.334+07:00What would happen if a frog does sunbathing?Few weeks ago, under the hottest sun of the day, my friend called me because he found something that looks like a frog right in the middle of our yard. I went out to see what's going on, only to find out that it was indeed a frog laying in our yard.<br />
<br />
Curious because a frog never go far from water but this one was brutally sunbathing, we started to observe the brave frog with a thorough view. The frog sit still. With the head looking straight to the sun.<br />
<br />
We got more and more curious. We decided to find a stick and poke the frog. The brave frog felt like stone! At that moment, we thought that the frog was not really a frog, but a stone carved as frog. However, seeing the detail of it, we still think that was a frog.<br />
<br />
Finally, an idea popped up in my head. What if, this is a MUMMY of a frog?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nMc_pD2Begg/S8ws1-Z_laI/AAAAAAAAACQ/yL4GsL0S900/s1600/SDC10087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nMc_pD2Begg/S8ws1-Z_laI/AAAAAAAAACQ/yL4GsL0S900/s320/SDC10087.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3rvGKQstBIxfQcX13lEi1u7cVapwoppgq7FvbkqbhYts9LIc6xwVRB1-ANyy1KtiMsmGm1Y9NrXjVGondcEw9o7XE7u8WmSgjl7HuU4wUDUQDQeZbcPbqEiq_Pj61LDfGHX__RY4TiCu/s1600/SDC10086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3rvGKQstBIxfQcX13lEi1u7cVapwoppgq7FvbkqbhYts9LIc6xwVRB1-ANyy1KtiMsmGm1Y9NrXjVGondcEw9o7XE7u8WmSgjl7HuU4wUDUQDQeZbcPbqEiq_Pj61LDfGHX__RY4TiCu/s320/SDC10086.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-83253320792514296722010-04-06T23:30:00.004+07:002010-04-07T00:02:47.439+07:00Learning by DoingHow are you today Dee? Pretty good I supposed.<br /><br />However, today I just happen to realize something that for some people might be obvious. I really wish I could remember them all and make each of them different post. But seeing that this late already, like 11 something, and knowing I am far from good with my memory, list is all I could offer.<br /><br />1. I know that boys really like challenges and chasing after girls. But once the girl notice him. VOILA! He just changed to back-off-you-annoy-me self. I didn't even do anything other than being all friendly. Then, once I decided to back off - doesn't see the sense of staying for such a weird creature, he starts to come around. Oh BOYS..... Why do you do such thing?<br /><br />2. I could overcome my fear once I am being exposed too much of it. Off course I am talking about insects *my favorite topic of the year* I guess. I still remember few weeks ago, I don't want to touch them at all. NO THANK YOU. But now... I just don't bother to touch them anymore. Not even afraid of them. Guess soon I'll dare to eat them. WAY TO GO GIRL! :)<br /><br />3. Working is really fun. But no. I am not a workaholic or someone who turns to one. I just start to think I might fall in love with my work.<br /><br />Okay.. I really dunno what to write. And even how to write properly. It's 12 and I need to sleep.<br /><br />SLAAP LEKKER!!!Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-82738119458603567042010-04-04T14:22:00.005+07:002010-04-04T15:11:56.985+07:00War Declaration against Mosquito<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><br /><br />I still remember how much I hate insect at my first week in Cambodia. They are just every where. Crawling on my bed, my laptop, myself. I hate them!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZJCsFZUbCcUKz-0CYVkhFXz_cbzw7QF3L8oax2irsJvg9UpAGdQ1LJTDzYI6-4r7tFmOqPTSYNXM-6t_oMnU-VivbsuzXKtahqmUDm5rDBAvbHQVSdNxjlPmYm-zvbDcQkoDgbBdU_Og/s1600/SDC10019.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZJCsFZUbCcUKz-0CYVkhFXz_cbzw7QF3L8oax2irsJvg9UpAGdQ1LJTDzYI6-4r7tFmOqPTSYNXM-6t_oMnU-VivbsuzXKtahqmUDm5rDBAvbHQVSdNxjlPmYm-zvbDcQkoDgbBdU_Og/s200/SDC10019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456188351842879746" border="0" /></a>Maybe the fact that I am staying right in the middle of the village without electricity and the only place that has it is my house, attracts them even more. Some days there are many of them. Some other days, they are just like gone. Being surrounded by insects, and sometimes gecko, frog, and spiders, has make me a stronger girl. I have no problem on touching them at the moment. Well... other than the big one and the bite one, they are just insects anyway.<br /><br />One thing, however, changed. It is the mosquito. During my first week, when I was <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismBYWCOBFqOuk0G4gXyxi2DAXA7qmYgHWshesGCyq_G46FcZB9cAQsg3jSUF7jOecw81Oyv0jltb4p7CX99jL1xLKqx-dQ69_9X537X6uxa8dy7RFpd8dnyZKEC2FI7yjP2KQQh3KYx4T/s1600/SDC10028.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 71px; height: 157px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismBYWCOBFqOuk0G4gXyxi2DAXA7qmYgHWshesGCyq_G46FcZB9cAQsg3jSUF7jOecw81Oyv0jltb4p7CX99jL1xLKqx-dQ69_9X537X6uxa8dy7RFpd8dnyZKEC2FI7yjP2KQQh3KYx4T/s200/SDC10028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456190043756775826" border="0" /></a>still busy chasing other insect away, I have no problem with them at all. I think it is because they prefer to bite my housemates then me and since this place only have one common place, I stick together with him a lot. No mosquito bit me.<br /><br />Good things always come to an end! At this point, those darn mosquito are getting bored of eating my housemate! They are starting to bite me, who completely out of ammo to fight back. My anti mosquito bracelet power wear off, I just don't use kelambu when working out or sleeping, and it's too hot to wear long pants and sleeve clothes.<br /><br />As a result, I got plenty of bites all over my feet. I don't know why, but it's only on<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg34Bc0wj-DvzwlIBmAgOElwhjbmLHO9tDKHoHRqvFD3rVr4qikkYaNGappNGx5ZdaRLOrhRLWvhlwGx9MTNimv1gW9h9D1xawjpb2ZMIqkbmWZuRY2MS2auiyVfSw4f38dcOPskiv0RPI/s1600/SDC10017.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg34Bc0wj-DvzwlIBmAgOElwhjbmLHO9tDKHoHRqvFD3rVr4qikkYaNGappNGx5ZdaRLOrhRLWvhlwGx9MTNimv1gW9h9D1xawjpb2ZMIqkbmWZuRY2MS2auiyVfSw4f38dcOPskiv0RPI/s200/SDC10017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456190882116444034" border="0" /></a> my feet - thought at the moment, they are going to my upper body as well. One of my good habit, scratching, also makes things even worse. My mosquito bites look like a swollen wound. Ugh... ugly!<br /><br />And this weekend, I just couldn't stand it anymore. I went to an aphoteek and bought some gel for the bites and some garlic pills since I heard mosquito hates them. I also don't like garlic. So that why the pill takes over.<br /><br />I also put my electric mosquito repellent on near me the whole day. Spray my chair with mosquito repellent, put anti mosquito frequency in my phone and laptop. Basically, prepared myself to the worse.<br /><br />So mosquito... I declared war to you!!!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNUxvuSUHPldz3W5_wS-J1iZBKkqUVCJdt0DR7G2rHuirxlDIyBTzSNV0s0-hAKBcyCu8VjXAWygZxXNsvyAsSaWJPUxyGiwUAbYmLdL_hzxSS8Gt1nHcVKob1715RriuJ93JeJ0y5vpW/s1600/SDC10014.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNUxvuSUHPldz3W5_wS-J1iZBKkqUVCJdt0DR7G2rHuirxlDIyBTzSNV0s0-hAKBcyCu8VjXAWygZxXNsvyAsSaWJPUxyGiwUAbYmLdL_hzxSS8Gt1nHcVKob1715RriuJ93JeJ0y5vpW/s200/SDC10014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456188330122439906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1t3TNJkLYGFXU6HpDVdmnWkbPYbzf9D8EmDEfLU18C6wMC5hG8HNstqhGbAwUygGfIG6LqKSOGT7L8-rFTcQYrJPI5CvrHGp8xfzSw93N6Xt-rEYArdLFJR_BIcWq9sPqDNLn_GXvbUx/s1600/SDC10013.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 68px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1t3TNJkLYGFXU6HpDVdmnWkbPYbzf9D8EmDEfLU18C6wMC5hG8HNstqhGbAwUygGfIG6LqKSOGT7L8-rFTcQYrJPI5CvrHGp8xfzSw93N6Xt-rEYArdLFJR_BIcWq9sPqDNLn_GXvbUx/s200/SDC10013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456188326633301154" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnCz346YdNOXW1ZeNP6n0w2iIgGTsbEcQhrVcyylfFh-jsM5R6B8nxxfFm3CmizlIm84OvJR83pfWQKMMsz_EZ5xukBqEVeV9p3eYnQf6hY4SIhGV8CByZS9ZQ2jf-eAR72Q7pGgiOfQE/s1600/SDC10015.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnCz346YdNOXW1ZeNP6n0w2iIgGTsbEcQhrVcyylfFh-jsM5R6B8nxxfFm3CmizlIm84OvJR83pfWQKMMsz_EZ5xukBqEVeV9p3eYnQf6hY4SIhGV8CByZS9ZQ2jf-eAR72Q7pGgiOfQE/s200/SDC10015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456188338914460722" border="0" /></a></div>Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4653955886335013309.post-45314367681760335122010-03-30T13:41:00.004+07:002010-03-30T23:12:25.667+07:00The MoonLight - IntroductionRealizing that I am not a very consistent and easily distracted person, it is indeed so hard for me to continue writing the blog in daily or weekly basis. And seeing that my previous entry had been deleted purely by my stupidity, I just think it is a sign for me to start creating a new line of my thoughts.<br /><br />First thing first,<br />I am no longer in Holland. Not like I am being kicked out from the country because I was doing some drunk and disorderly, but it's more like I was being called by other country that are closer to home and probably need me more than Holland. (Off course I couldn't ignore the fact that I need to run away from Holland because of my own complicated life).<br /><br />However.... YESH! I am in Cambodia at the moment. A simple geographical background, Cambodia is an ASIAN country and NO it is not located somewhere in Africa. It's a really exotic country with some black stain in it. Let's see... child prostitution, they have it here. Land Mines? There is a museum for it. Body guard with gun? Everywhere. Yesh! Very interesting country indeed.<br /><br />SO... what exactly am I doing in Cambodia? I am working as an intern in a solar company called Kamworks. My work focus mainly on the business scheme for their product called MoonLight. A round solar power lantern that can be carried everywhere.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtugguY0UFshqEOyyK7E_Rbr1KzleuwF9-Uk8Ov_XB-eRT-L-JY0FoE3fLl7m6cFv6KoWxsnx1jvj492FRd5HAmhlkL7Iz-gp7qYWOX8vBk5x-4uxwYHg4mTkByuIRNXBPLwxXJK-UsJQb/s1600/moonlight1.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtugguY0UFshqEOyyK7E_Rbr1KzleuwF9-Uk8Ov_XB-eRT-L-JY0FoE3fLl7m6cFv6KoWxsnx1jvj492FRd5HAmhlkL7Iz-gp7qYWOX8vBk5x-4uxwYHg4mTkByuIRNXBPLwxXJK-UsJQb/s320/moonlight1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454323845415858146" border="0" /></a>The target of the product is most Cambodian who is still living under the poverty level, untouched by the power grid, and use kerosene lamp as their source of lighting during the night. The idea is MoonLight could replace the kerosene since they are bad guy! They burn houses, choke people with their smell, and the light is bad. SO... MoonLight is trying to be a hero here by trying to kill the lamp and replacing them.<br /><br />I am so proud that I could be part of the MoonLight nobility. Just like Alfred serves Batman, I wish I could serve MoonLight and make them the Hero of the Night!<br /><br />VIVA MOONLIGHT!!!!<br /><br />to be continued... :)Deihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06011047525485486271noreply@blogger.com0