<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452</id><updated>2011-08-02T13:28:44.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love My Life</title><subtitle type='html'>Starting from April 2008, three days before my sixteenth birthday...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-2940729049926875969</id><published>2010-09-08T04:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T04:55:32.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sayang, I Miss You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Well, I'm supposed to study MedSoc right now but for some reason I'm kinda sian over it already so yeah, here I am blogging...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I MISS MY SAYANG!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Like...I've just met him 3 days ago? But I miss him like I've not met him for 1 month, am I losing my mind or something? It's like...I DON'T KNOW!!! I don't recognise this feeling, I've never missed someone to this extent before. Not my ex-boyfriends, not Nimo, not even the famous Mr Ray Hadinata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Probably because he's the only one who can love me this way...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Boy what have you done?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Why am I crazy over you?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;What have you told me?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Why do I miss your voice?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Is it because you're the only one&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;who can love me this way?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Or is it because&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;we're just fated to be together?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You stole my heart&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;with that gorgeous smile&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You made me drop on my knee&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;with those sweet words...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You look inside me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;your eyes penetrate mine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You whisper gently&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;saying, "I miss you"...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Boy look at me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;look into my eyes&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Thank you for everything that you've done,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;only you can make me fall in love...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Boy listen to me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;listen to my request&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Please be happy and don't worry about me,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'cos that's the only thing that makes me happy...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You stole my heart&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;with that gorgeous smile&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You made me drop on my knee&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;with those sweet words...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You look inside me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;your eyes penetrate mine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You whisper gently&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;saying, "I miss you"...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I don't even know if this is a song or not because I just can't find the right melody, so for the time being can we pretend that this is just a mere poem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-2940729049926875969?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2940729049926875969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=2940729049926875969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2940729049926875969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2940729049926875969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/09/sayang-i-miss-you.html' title='Sayang, I Miss You...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-1919182378351325306</id><published>2010-09-07T05:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T05:21:20.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When You Say "I Do"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Thanks to yesterday's studying session with Kai Yee and the discussion about her marriage at the age of 23, I've been imagining myself as her maid of honour for one whole day today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Really, I was imagining myself standing behind her at the church altar, beside her was her "Mr Right", and then she'll say "I do"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Beautiful, huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dear my best friend,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;you look so beautiful today,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;in that white dress,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;holding his hand tightly...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Babe your face is gleaming,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;such a delight to see you like this,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;such an honour to be by your side,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;after all these years, here I am...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Blessing you with my all,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;watching you slowly reciting the vow.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Smiling broadly, whispering my bless for you,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;when you say "I do"...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Babe do you know something?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;When I hug you at the changing room just now,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I wanted to thank you,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;for allowing me to be the special one...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I wanted to tell you how lucky I am,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;to have such a best friend like you,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;that's why, that's why now,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;here I am...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Blessing you with my all,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;watching you slowly reciting the vow.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Smiling broadly, whispering my bless for you,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;when you say "I do"...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;This is going to be the song that I'm going to sing if I really am her maid of honour when she gets married...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;When you say "I do"...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-1919182378351325306?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/1919182378351325306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=1919182378351325306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/1919182378351325306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/1919182378351325306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-you-say-i-do.html' title='When You Say &quot;I Do&quot;'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-7800395940018971594</id><published>2010-09-06T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T07:04:54.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss My Sweet Seventeen!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;(@ SingPost Mac, studying...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Oh my fucking God...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'M TIRED!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Probably this is what I get from straining myself for the past 2 weeks. I can barely open my eyes now, while I'm actually still having Marketing worksheet to do. 52 MCQs are really killing when I'm fucking tired and sleepy, seriously...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;How I wish I still have my sweet seventeen energy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I talked to Kai Yee about our life back at Sec 4. She TOTALLY AGREE about how strong we were back then. I told her how I could actually sleep four hours per day for one whole year and go school do whatever activities until late, and then went back home and took a shower and then continued with my study UNTIL LATE and then wake up SUPER EARLY and so on and so on...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Now I want to wake up at 7 am also oversleep until 8 am...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Really, I think it's either I'm getting old (which probably is) or I've been restraining myself to much during Oooss...AND WHAT THE HELL??? BLACKOUT AT MAC??? NOW???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Oh my...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Marketing, even though I've got A for my coursework, I still hate you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-7800395940018971594?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/7800395940018971594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=7800395940018971594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7800395940018971594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7800395940018971594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-miss-my-sweet-seventeen.html' title='I Miss My Sweet Seventeen!'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-4865922784155495240</id><published>2010-09-01T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T01:32:12.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Worse and Worse</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Yes, my illness is not getting better. Instead it's getting worse and worse and worse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;It's been getting better for the last two days. I don't know why today I woke up with nausea and the ulcer at the back of my tongue hurts so badly that I wanted to vomit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I gave up and took the antibiotic medicine. But at the same time I need to take the gastric medicine as well if I don't want to be hospitalised. The stupid antibiotic medicine is power, really, but it will be damn dangerous for my gastric as I've just recovered from gastric pain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Tell me, how am I supposed to study in this condition?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Gotta go to sleep now, hope that I'll get better after sleep...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-4865922784155495240?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/4865922784155495240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=4865922784155495240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/4865922784155495240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/4865922784155495240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/09/getting-worse-and-worse.html' title='Getting Worse and Worse'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-1094405075289121540</id><published>2010-08-31T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T22:06:51.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TKSS, A Memory...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I cried myself to sleep last night...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Thanks to &lt;i&gt;For The First Time&lt;/i&gt; by The Script and my trip back to TKSS yesterday, my tears just wouldn't stop flowing for one whole night...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;The hall was awkwardly empty. I remembered how we squeezed last year during teacher's day celebration, I still remember the outfit that I wore on that day (flowery top with 7/8 white pants), and I still have all the pictures from last year's celebration, K-Box, Pastamania with Mr Yee, trying on shades with Kai Yee...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "&gt;All the memories just struck my mind wildly. I went to 4E1 classroom with Kai Yee and Diep and was astonished by the new colour of the wall. And we found a "changing room" at the back of the classroom, just like what we had when we were back in 3E1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;"I miss the smell of this classroom," said Kai Yee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;And yeah, 3E1...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "&gt;When I woke up yesterday morning, I've promised myself that if I met Novia at school I'd look into her eyes and gave her my best smile. I wanted to tell her that I've really forgiven her now, that I wanted to start everything all over again, at the place where we started everything two years ago...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Too bad, I didn't see her at all...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Seems like this is a punishment for me; but this is just too cruel. I saw almost everyone in the school, but why couldn't I see her? I heard her family now is not doing as well, I wanted to ask how is she doing now? It's her Oos...year, a very crucial time of her life. I just want to know if someone who used to draw a smile on my lips is doing well or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Is that too much that I'm asking for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Really, if God gives me another chance to see her, I'll definitely look into her eyes and give her my best smile. Even though it's a good bye smile, even though it's my last chance to see her, still, I'll give her my best smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years, just now got the feeling that we're meeting...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;For the first time...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-1094405075289121540?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/1094405075289121540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=1094405075289121540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/1094405075289121540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/1094405075289121540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/08/tkss-memory.html' title='TKSS, A Memory...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-6601002753336050671</id><published>2010-08-30T01:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T02:47:25.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>C6 and B3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;My boyfriend brought me to his gathering dinner last night. Well, I know almost all of them, except for several people, and one of them was actually his "previous one". I've met her in several occasions but we haven't really talked and I haven't really looked at her THAT properly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Oh my God...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;She's such a beauty...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Look-wise, I admit a defeat. Like really, every thing about her is just perfect (sounds like lesbian huh?). And I told him that his eyes are REALLY good, such a nice catch. Not saying that I'm not a nice catch but honestly, LOOK-WISE, I give her 9 out of 10 while I give myself 5 out of 10.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;A1 for her, C6 for me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;But according to him, HEART-WISE, I'm so much better than her. I told him that too, regarding him and Ray. That I've loved him deeper than I loved Ray last time. I don't know whether he believed it or not, well, I hope he did...and he'll always does. Because really, I recognise this feeling. The feeling when I can be twice happier when he's happy and feel twice of his sadness when he's sad. When I cry when he cries, though I'm not supposed to do it. Well, so far I still think that I'm not good enough as a girlfriend because I can't really be a pole when he needs someone to lean on...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;So yeah, heart-wise, I give myself a B3. All people say it's good, very good, but it's actually a failure to get a distinction...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Well, I don't know, really...I'm just...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sigh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-6601002753336050671?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/6601002753336050671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=6601002753336050671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/6601002753336050671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/6601002753336050671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-boyfriend-brought-me-to-his.html' title='C6 and B3'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-3502909750876698723</id><published>2010-08-27T04:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T04:53:55.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Love With Mr Kudou Shinichi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Like duh! I've been in love with him for AGES!!! Just that all those stupid projects disallowed me to watch him for the past six months, and today was the day when I could finally reunite with my husband.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;OH MY GOD! He's just as awesome as always! And yeah, Akai Shuichi has made his second appearance after his "death". Basically I believe that the one we all think as Shuu is not Shuu himself, instead Okiya Subaru is Shuu. I don't know, I just have that feeling, judging from the way he talks and staffs. Moreover, he drank Bourbon on episode 510, which is Shuu's favourite alcohol. I mean really, Gosho is just trying to twist here and there by making the new BO agent's code name is Bourbon. He's just trying to confuse us I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;"To those who are waiting for their prey patiently, I'd like to treat them a hot, bitter coffee..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Will someone from BO says something like THIS about Gin???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Damn no...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;And yeah, Okiya called them "a pack of black wolves who lost their easy prey..." AND CONAN SMILED!!! Like seriously WEIRD!!! I mean I've found it super weird since the first time Conan lent his house to Okiya, despite the fact that Ai was freaking scared of Okiya and had a bad feeling that Okiya is someone from BO as she had that "feeling" during the arson case. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone who likes Holmes can't be bad...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Nonsense, that's not a reason Conan will throw, especially when it's about those black wolves...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;And just now I watched episode 508 where Conan confessed to Eisuke that he's Kudou Shinichi. When Eisuke told Conan that someone from FBI might have died, Conan actually said "Yeah, everything is alright", while picturing Shuu in his mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;IT MEANS HE KNOWS SHUU IS NOT DEAD!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;And and...during the arson case. When the Detective Boys told him about the address of the little boy who asked for their help, he reacted as if he knew the address...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;That's Okiya Subaru's house, isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;So yeah...FOR GOODNESS' SAKE!!! Let Okiya be Shuu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;OMG...I think the title of today's post is supposed to be "In Love With Mr Silver Bullet" instead...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-3502909750876698723?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3502909750876698723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=3502909750876698723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3502909750876698723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3502909750876698723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/08/in-love-with-mr-kudou-shinichi.html' title='In Love With Mr Kudou Shinichi'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-617709917493106047</id><published>2010-08-25T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T06:03:57.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Saviour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I took out the necklace from Ray on May 2010...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;I texted him, saying that I wanted to move on and stop loving him as more than just a good friend. His responds was quite awkward; he said it's okay but he changed into a whole different person for around 2 months after that night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;So what was the thing that finally knocked some senses into my head after two years?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;My prince. My saviour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;I met him 2 days after my eighteenth birthday during TPIS outing to Singapore Discovery Centre. I had heard a lot about him from another people in TPIS before eventually saw him in person as he was the ex - president of the club. No impression was given during our first meeting as we didn't even TALK (I was craving for lunch, yeah...) but thanks to my Nokia 6600 fold that stuck in the bus during our second meeting, we started to talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;I guess new media has brought advantages for he and I to know each other better even though we barely met each other at that point of time. He added my Facebook (or I added him, I don't know ^_^) and we started to talk on MSN and all those stuffs, and suddenly I began to blurt out about Mr Ray Hadinata and he began to pour me with his stories as well (some of them brought tears into my eyes, really, I adore him so much even until now), and without knowing it, he'd become a part of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;We played a game. One day boyfriend girlfriend relationship. A love game. Two retards were playing with fire matches, without knowing that it'd form a firework. A big and beautiful one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;It's all started just like that. Suddenly he just occupied every nanometres of my heart without allowing anyone to snatch it from him. Suddenly I found someone who had gone through more than I had, who taught me to be strong, who told me to look forward instead of into the past...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;There's a reason why God gives you two eyes in front. They are there for you to look forward instead of backward...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;I swear I will never forget those words till my last breath...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;He told me that I saved him from loving someone blindly. Little he knows that HE was the one who saved me, not only from loving someone blindly, but also from everything that might rip away all the happiness of my life. Some nights I just lie down with my eyes wide opened and wondering how could he survive all his pasts, and suddenly I realised that a drop of tears have fallen on my pillow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;That's why now I always remind him that I'm not here as a decoration. I'm here for him to share his problems, to share his happiness, to share his tears, his smile, his laughs, everything...And I'll also try to treat him as a boyfriend, not a decoration, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;Such a long wait, but it worth the wait. He told me that now I love him more than he does. I laughed, and jokingly said I really do, that's why he needs to buck up. LOL! But no, really, I want to pay back all the sadness and loneliness that he used to have with the same amount of happiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;Because he saved me, because he's my inspiration, someone that can turn me 180 degrees. From a girl who believed that having a boyfriend equals to wasting money, wasting time and wasting energy, into a girl who now believe that having a boyfriend is such a bliss. Only he can do it. No one else can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;But I know I still have a long way to really understand about him the way he understands me. I'm such a lousy girlfriend that I can't even differ whether he's really angry or he's faking (irritating bastard, he knows I'm bad at this and he purposely did it several times -.-"') Well, at the very least, I'll try my best to love him. Simply give him all the love that I have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Make simple love simple. That's all.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#993399;"&gt;True. As simple as that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-617709917493106047?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/617709917493106047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=617709917493106047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/617709917493106047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/617709917493106047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/08/saviour.html' title='The Saviour'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-7077936959709235859</id><published>2010-08-23T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T06:11:41.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaleidoscope 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I've just realise how long it has been since the last time I updated this blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;October 2008, for goodness's sake!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Well, throughout the year 2009 a lot of things had happened, and I guess I'm going to make a summary about all those things here...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;January 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;The last year of my Secondary School was started with a very bad incident. Miss Novia Sandy, my best and most lovely best friend left me for her good-for-nothing boyfriend. My world turned upside down overnight, and I could do nothing except for crying on my bed while on phone with Irwan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;February 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;My wound had not been healed, yet I got a new wound above it. After Novia, now it's Daniel. I had suicidal thought and I would've done it if Irwan didn't remind me of how many people out there love me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;March 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;1 March 2009, my cousin brother passed away due to a motorcycle accident.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I broke down...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Seems like 2009 is a cursed year for me, isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I became a soulless individual, came to school without smile, do all my things without any thoughts...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'm just...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sad...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;April 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Well, at least this year is my sweet seventeen year. I had barbecue party with my friends and classmates, and I really enjoyed it, kind of a little bit too much because I needed to numb my bleeding heart due to recent bad incidents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ray gave me a necklace, and on that night I swore that I'd never take out that necklace until I found someone who can replace him in my heart...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Which I didn't know when...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;May 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Two months had passed since the last day my cousin drew his last breath, but I still cried every time I opened his Facebook profile. I asked Kai Yee how long did she need to recover from the sadness after her mom passed away, and she said the first several months were really torturous. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Things turned out better I guess, at least now I started to find good friends again. And I started to be able to forget about those two who had wasted a good one year of my time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I loathed them, I really did...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;June 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;O Level was coming in several months and Prelim was just at the corner. I've submitted my DPA to Temasek Poly and hoped against hope that I'm going to be accepted there ^^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I received a message from Daniel today. He said he regretted and he wanted me to be his friend again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;My reply: Dream on and wait until the sun rises from the West...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;July 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Oh man...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;No DPA for me, T.T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Gotta wait for JAE to get into my Communications and Media Management...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Something really went wrong between Ray and I. We're getting further and further, and we had more and longer cold wars nowadays. Even though now I've had Kai Yee, Diep and Ray as my close friends, I wouldn't be able to endure the pain if I had to lose Ray...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;August 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;What the F***??? A2 for MALAY?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;-.-"'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;And THIS Ray Hadinata is really such an ASSHOLE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Kau menggantungkan hubungan ini,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Kau diamkan aku tanpa sebab,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Maunya apa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ku harus bagaimana?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;September 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;O Level in one month time. And in one month time as well, my Secondary School life would be ended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Goodbye dream land, welcome real life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;A bunch of pictures had been taken, a lot of words were written all over the books, all those smiles, all those laughters...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'm so gonna miss Telok Kurau Secondary School, especially because it's closing down at the end of next year...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Well, it doesn't even matter now that Ray and I are still having cold war. I'm kinda used to it now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;October 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;26 October 2009, English O Level. Hope I'll get B3 so that I could go to CMM TP. And I have a WEIRD WEIRD feeling that my love for Ray started to decline. The fact that we've just recovered from our 3 months of cold war, I didn't feel THAT happy. There were even times when I forgot to put on the necklace...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;November 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Class chalet!!! 18 November, Ray's 16th birthday but he couldn't come because his leg was crippled...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;But I didn't feel sad for that....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;WEIRD!!! I mean c'mon, even though his leg had recovered, the fact that he wasn't with me on his special day would've made me at least a bit emo wasn't it? But I felt nothing, I felt as happy and as high like I always be during barbecue party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;What&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;hell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;And my cousin's birthday was on the next day. I spent one whole night staring at the starry sky on the beach, hoping to see a shooting star and I would make a wish, which is to see him in person and say, "Happy Birthday..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;December 2009,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'm back home, waiting for O Level result to come out. Ray had been MIA for around 1 month, and I didn't miss him at all, or checking on his FB to let me know if he's alright or not...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;I guessed I would take out this necklace anytime soon...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Yeah whoa!!! A lot, really...I couldn't even fit in all the things happened during year 2009, but that's basically it. Gotta have a date with Mr. Marketing so I'm signing out now!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-7077936959709235859?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/7077936959709235859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=7077936959709235859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7077936959709235859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7077936959709235859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2010/08/kaleidoscope-2009.html' title='Kaleidoscope 2009'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-3286265960516065403</id><published>2008-10-18T04:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T04:29:05.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Frigthening Six-Letters-Word in Dictionary</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;It's cancer. C-A-N-C-E-R. The most frightening six-letters-word that i've ever found in the dictionary. If you ask me what do i know about it, i'll say it's a disease that kills the girl in a romantic Korean movies, disease that ever been my fantasy when i was in the beginning of my teen ages, disease that scared me a lot, and now i have reason why it's a horror for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know another thing about cancer. The disease that took my bestfriend from this world...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cornelia Viorensa. Such a beautiful name, as beautiful as the person. I met her when i was at 4th grade and she was at 2nd grade of primary school in Dance CCA. I saw her and i was interested to see her cheerful personality and her laughing face. Then it happened that we danced together in an event, and we became very close like sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime her friends asked her, "Vio, who is she? Why is she coming to our class everyday?", she always said, "She's my &lt;em&gt;jie &lt;/em&gt;(elder sister) you know!". And everytime my friends asked me the same question I said, "She's my cutest little sister!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time she wrote to me in my "Book of Me and My Friends" about herself and at the bottom of the page she wrote, "&lt;em&gt;Jie, &lt;/em&gt;later if you go to Secondary School don't forget me OK?" I promised her that i'll still come to school to visit her and all that, but what happened next was different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was busy with her life as 5th grader, preparing for her PSLE at the next year. I was busy with my new life as a secondary student as well. But I never forget her, how busy I am. It's true that I couldn't find her in school anymore, but I still remember her until the past few days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why suddenly I remembered about her. I was thinking about her, and realising how we've lost contact for about four years. But I didn't bother to find her friendster or her contact number, because I thought I'll still be able to meet her later when I go back to Indonesia. But just yesterday afternoon, my mom texted me. A message that will be a horror for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, sweetie, do you know which girl named Vio? Is she the one that was very close to you when you were at primary? I heard she had passed away because of cancer..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My palms turned sweaty. I replied my mom with my shaking hand, "Which Vio? What's her full name?" I didn't even dare to ask whether her full name is Cornelia Viorensa or not, but when the reply came, I opened it and I felt my body numbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cornelia Viorensa. Is she?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember how I was able to type my "yes" and reply her. I don't remember how i picked my phone and called Novia. I've just said, "Nov..." and I was bursting into tears. I regretted how I lost contact with her. She's ill! And I NEVER know!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Jie, later if you go to Secondary don't forget me, OK?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I found her friendster. And I found all her friends give her bye - bye comments. I gave her one, the main point was I asked her to forgive me for not keeping in touch with her, and I saw that her friendster didn't have photos. I searched on her friend's profile, and when i found it, I was crying harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's still as pretty as she used to be. Nothing change from her. Even her smile, it's the smile that makes me interested in her six years ago when I met her at the dancing room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's a happiness in my heart as well. She's now free. She's no longer ill. She's no longer suffering. Now she could be anywhere, like what Novia said. Even she could be here, just next to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-3286265960516065403?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3286265960516065403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=3286265960516065403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3286265960516065403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3286265960516065403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/10/most-frigthening-six-letters-word-in.html' title='The Most Frigthening Six-Letters-Word in Dictionary'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-2345858930161378807</id><published>2008-07-28T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T05:09:40.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TIRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I feel like falling sick, maybe just a light fever or bad flu will do. At least I can have a rest for one or two days and makes me forget everything that has happened this month for a while, and maybe after that I can have a recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leadership course, Chemistry Project, English Remedial, my bad scores, him, my aunt's death, the rejection of my novel, being scolded by my CCA teacher for skipping my CCA three times in a row (it's not my fault! The project is on Thursday, and I can't skip it!), what else? Oh yeah, my ex - boyfriend wants me again, I almost snapped my back at camp in Malaysia...feels like God hates me this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of it, today he made me sure that he doesn't have any feelin' for me. He didn't say it literally, but I know it was ME. And it hurts, really hurts. But I'll never be able to blame him, as he never mention my name when he said it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he won't hurt me anymore, but I don't think he EVER hurts me. All he said is predictable. That he won't give his heart for me. That I'm NOTHING compared with him. That I'm not in his "level"...he said this during class today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've reached a point where I have to admit this. That I've been lost even before this battle has begun. That my mind has been eaten by my belief that I'm the loser. And I will always be the loser...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be no Janji Suci for me, there will be no Tonight for me, there will be no more sharing earpiece...Those things have already been a piece of memory even before it happened. And it seems like I have to tear that piece and shatter it into the sea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm back to the old me, a girl who always scares to face the morning that comes. Scares when thinking about what will I face in the morning. Is it happiness or dull morning? I think I've been recovered after these seven months, but the fact is I didn't even take a little step at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the night comes pick me up from the loneliness. But when morning comes, I know that you're not beside me. And here I am, still waiting for you endlessly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I go home, back to the place where I belong, and admitting my lost. I accept it, althought it really hurts for me, but I know that you'll not be for me. Yeah...even I know that you'll NEVER be here for me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just...never...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-2345858930161378807?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2345858930161378807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=2345858930161378807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2345858930161378807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2345858930161378807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/07/tired.html' title='TIRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-6348866281949948267</id><published>2008-07-24T05:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T06:43:52.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm The Loser...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;She's correct. My bestfriend's words...the more you deny the more you feel guilt. The more you deny that you love him the more you tell me that you love him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;This is stupid...DAMN STUPID!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Though I'm not really sure, but I think a small piece of my heart...nano metre cubic maybe...is still for him. And I don't want that nano metre cubic becames centi metre or metre...and later it will take up every single part of my heart. I don't want it, really don't want it. Because I know that even I wait until horse's new year (means &lt;em&gt;never!!!&lt;/em&gt;) also he'll NEVER likes me. He'll NEVER gives his heart to me, to an ugly little old girl that came suddenly and confidentally, and too arrogant to admit that I'm only an "extra".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Also, I realise something today. I'm not special for him. Though he told the entire world that I'm his bestfriend, but the other girl seems have more portion of that words than me. She's known him longer, &lt;em&gt;much &lt;/em&gt;longer than me...she has MUCH MORE things to talk about with him...everytime they are together he looks happier than when he's with me...when they are together there's no vacuum between them...and he always HAPPILY listens to her as what she's talkin' about always interesting and fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;So, in either way round, she ALWAYS wins...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;And yeah...I'm the loser...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Always like this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;And I'm just too used to it, too used to the pain in my heart, and if last time I could survive, why not now? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I also don't know...let the time answers my question...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-6348866281949948267?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/6348866281949948267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=6348866281949948267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/6348866281949948267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/6348866281949948267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/07/lost.html' title='I&apos;m The Loser...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-292385102799148652</id><published>2008-07-19T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T07:53:30.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled...Too Tired To Think 'Bout It</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Have you ever fell for somebody that has been taken?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;And have you finally got his love, eventhough you are only his other GF?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Or worse, he is your other BF?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I have...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;His name is Hadinata Ardiansyah (not his true name, of course). I met him at the first day of Junior High School grade 9 in the classroom. Believe it or not, I used to hate him so much...but at the end I wanted him badly until I decided to leave my boyfriend and be his stead. But not until one month I knew that I wasn't the only girl in his heart...then I left him. After about two or three months, he told me that he'd left "that girl", and he wanted me to be his stead again. And I accepted it, although I never said "Yes, you're my boyfriend", at least people knew that he's my boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;When finally he loved me, we were together, things had changed...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;He wasn't as sweet as I thought, he wasn't as nice as I thought, he wasn't as gentle as I thought, or in conclusion, I was dissappointed when I found out that he's not that perfect...that he's not the one for me...and he didn't want me as bad as I wanted him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Now, after one year, after I've forgotten him, after I've given my heart to somebody else, after I think my life is perfect without him, he wants me again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I heard this from my friend who's his friend also. I chat with him this afternoon, and suddenly the topic was about him. I also don't know what was on my mind ; I asked my friend whether Ardian still like me or not. And yeah...guess what? He said yes, he still likes me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Even now he wants me badly, worse than what I did last year. And I asked my friend, why? Why now? After one year...after my heart is not for him anymore...why not that time when I was desperate with him? Then my friend just simply said, "Things are always like that...regret always comes at the end, not at the beginning or in the middle itself"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;If I'm allowed to be mean, I'll tell him that I don't care anymore about him, whether he still loves me or not, even if he said he'll kill himself if I have new BF also I don't care. But anyhow, I can't say it. He was special for me, and he was so nice to me either. I felt the hurt of being thrown away by my ex - boyfriend, and I don't want to do the same thing to other people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But it makes me confuse now. I don't like him, but I don't want to hurt him at the same time...What should I do???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-292385102799148652?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/292385102799148652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=292385102799148652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/292385102799148652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/292385102799148652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/07/untitledtoo-tired-to-think-bout-it.html' title='Untitled...Too Tired To Think &apos;Bout It'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-2508417269865325260</id><published>2008-07-18T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T08:57:25.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Rose Has Bloomed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;When I opened my Friendster just now, I saw a new comment in my friend's profile made by herself. It says , "I asked God to give me a pretty flower, but he gives me an ugly plant. I asked God to give me a butterfly, but he gave me an ugly caterpillar. But when time goes on, the ugly plant gives its prettiest flower, and the caterpillar changes into butterfly. I believe that God will give us the good thing at the right time, even when something bad happens to us there will be another good thing behind it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Do you believe it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I do...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;My aunt passed away several days ago. I was speechless when I heard this news. Then I told Daniel, Irwan, and Novia about this. They were shocked, I don't know, I think so...Daniel is the first who knew because I was with him, then Novia, then at night I called Irwan and told him. I forced myself not to cry, but I couldn't help it. I hope Irwan never realised that I was crying on phone that time, but I think realise or not, he'll know at last if he reads this post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But yeah...my aunt's death makes me realise about something that I always doubts for these perfect seven months. I was never sure whether Daniel, Irwan, and Novia really care for me. But now, there's no more doubts left behind. They are the one who have made me smiled again, I remember I called Novia at midnight just to tell her that I missed my aunt, she's the one who said that I'm gonna be OK, I remember Daniel asked me whether I cried or not before we went out that day, I remember Irwan tried to make me laugh at Chemistry Project by singing Andra &amp;amp; The Backbone's song, playing with window's opener, told me not to out of my mind or else my mind will be taken by ghost...everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;That's it...everything that I've never had before...free times with my friends (I never had my own time when I was in Indonesia...poor thing...), going out with boys (I never went out with my boyfriend before...), having good friends...now I have everything. Feels like now I'm getting my rose and my butterfly that I asked from God before...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-2508417269865325260?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2508417269865325260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=2508417269865325260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2508417269865325260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2508417269865325260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-rose-has-bloomed.html' title='My Rose Has Bloomed'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-3730429242134969957</id><published>2008-07-08T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T04:27:25.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Rejected, Huhuhuhu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;My novel was being rejected...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I received this message this afternoon, when I was eating with Daniel, Irwan, Novia, Amelia, and Apribelle. My mom texted me and said this, "the publisher can't publish ur book, but they gave some suggestions..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I was stunned. I've been waiting for today for SIX MONTHS! HALF OF THE YEAR! And what I got? Being rejected! Oh, God...what's wrong? I sat down with my eyes on my phone Icd and I stood up, walked towards Novia and gave my phone to her. I said nothing and she read the message. I sighed, and I took back my phone after that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I didn't want it, swear, but I couldn't help it. I cried a bit, well, a bit only...because even Daniel and Irwan didn't realise it (or I think so). God, I hate this! It felt worse than broke up with my boyfriend or when Nimo hurted me for the thousandth time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But then I realise that it's not the end of the world. When I reached home, I texted my mom and asked her to send me the e-mail address of another book publisher. And just now, I sent my script to the publisher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Huhuhu...I hate waiting...but I'm sure that I'm not going to wait in vain...or if I use Icha Rahmanti's words, I'm not going to wait for Godot, heuheuheu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Six months from now...just let it flow...don't know what's gonna happen next...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-3730429242134969957?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3730429242134969957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=3730429242134969957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3730429242134969957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3730429242134969957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/07/being-rejected-huhuhuhu.html' title='Being Rejected, Huhuhuhu...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-7655588871988099264</id><published>2008-06-17T05:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T04:29:10.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back...Back...Back...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Huaaaa!!! Finally I can write in this blog again...after a long long time...&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...I'm in my hometown right now, but I'll be back in SG soon. Yess!!! I miss SG already though it's only three weeks. I keep contact with Daniel, Irwan, and Novia anyway...coz I know that I'm gonna die if I lose contact for three weeks with them, heuheuheu....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, anyway...now it's about Nimo. About three days after my arrival, he came to my house. He brought his 'late b-day gift' for me, and it's sooo...DAMN special! He gave me a table clock with our photograph inside...but it's not only OUR photograph...it's our photograph EIGHT YEARS ago! Yes, it's our first photograph together when we first met (I even has lost that one, and I'm still wondering how on earth he still have it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's quite surprising, but I don't know why, I just feel so - so. I don't feel something special or whatever it is like when somebeody is in love. No...not at all, just like ordinary friend. Anyway, my ex was looking for me again. He wants me to meet him, but I said no. He's my ex, ex will not be boyfriend. But it's better than my first ex who doesn't want to talk to me anymore...well, it's his GF who texted me but using HIS PHONE... like she doesn't have phone...Stephanie said both of them are ill, and they need psychiatry...heueheuheu...I just remember Irwan then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I gtg...my parents are nagging at me...HUH!!! Better be back in SG...huhuhu...miss SG...miss it sooo...much!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-7655588871988099264?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/7655588871988099264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=7655588871988099264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7655588871988099264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7655588871988099264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/06/backbackback.html' title='Back...Back...Back...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-2028250689670151346</id><published>2008-04-19T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T07:59:15.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ray knows that "Ray" is him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Well, I never mind because I don't like him anymore. Some more, he knows it himself, not from me. Maybe last time I just ran to him because I was desperate with Nimo. What's more, Ray doesn't hate me or what, he's still my friend, and that's the best part of all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But I'll never write who's Ray in this blog, because this is only me, Novia, Irwan, and Daniel who know exactly who the hell is Ray. Nobody can know who is he. But, although finally he knows, he teaches me a lot of thing. How to be honest to your best friends, how to understand your best friend when SHE has problems, how to not judging your best friend only by your point of view, how to forgive and forget, everything...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ray, if you read this blog, I just want to say something to you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'm sorry and thank you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-2028250689670151346?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2028250689670151346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=2028250689670151346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2028250689670151346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/2028250689670151346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-more-secret.html' title='No More Secret'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-1936700104299516456</id><published>2008-04-17T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T05:15:52.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deeply in Love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I got this sentence from Ms. Liy, my Chemistry teacher, far before I like Ray. But now, I realise that it's exactly what happen to me now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I am DEEPLY IN LOVE with RAY!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;This is something that I must remember for the whole of my life. Never try to play with love, never try to like somebody just to make me excited to go to school, because at the end I'll love the person truly. This had happened three years ago, with my first ex-boyfriend (see? At the end I was deeply in love with him also right?) But now I repeat it again, and the same thing happens again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sometimes I feel I'm not good enough for Ray. I realised it yesterday. I was going out with him to a place (I can't say where, in case Ray read my blog then he realise that "Ray" is him, and that means I die). Then I looked around, seems like some girls were looking at him, but no guys looked interested in me. I felt underestimated, it feels like being Prince Charming and Cinderella before she became the princess. I felt so ugly compared with him which is DAMN handsome (even my mom says so). Daniel said I have to be confident, but how come? Novia just laughed, I think she had no idea what to say. And Irwan, hmmm...well I never tell him who the hell Ray is, but I think he's already been so curious now and maybe, he's already known who's Ray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Yesterday I was chatting with Daniel. I forgot what we were talking about, but at one point I was talking about me, Harvey, Irene, and Andreas. Then that time, I realised. How come that story is EXACTLY the same like what happen to me now? I have three bestfriends, one of them is a girl and the other two are boys. Is this the second chance that I always ask God to give me? Is it the answer of my pray everynight? Pray so that I can repeat the time when I was still with them and correcting my mistake so that we were not separated like now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;If the answer is YES, then thank God! It means he gives me the second chance, the time that I waste with my ex-boyfriend and bestfriends, the chance to correct all mistakes I made, and have a different end of story with Daniel, Irwan, and Novia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Seems like my deeply in love is not only for Ray, but for three of them also...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Bye!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-1936700104299516456?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/1936700104299516456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=1936700104299516456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/1936700104299516456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/1936700104299516456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/04/deeply-in-love.html' title='Deeply in Love...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-3085133924536598968</id><published>2008-04-11T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T06:00:18.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Day...T.T...lol...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Today is sooo...sad!!! Irwan and Daniel are having rows, and guess what? I'm the last who know about it. Huhuhu...I heard Novia said this is the first time they have rows like this...lol...so sad. They said they want to be friends again, but I dunno about it now, whether they've forgiven each other or still don't want to talk to each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always complain about them being noisy at E Math class because they sit together. But today, when they sit together but didn't make any noise (they didn't even talk to each other) I feel something lose. It will be better to see them hit each other or tease each other than see them shut their mouth up like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope they can be friend again, SOON!!! I want to have lunch with them again without sitting as far as possible from each other...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel, Irwan, baikan doooonggg....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-3085133924536598968?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3085133924536598968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=3085133924536598968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3085133924536598968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/3085133924536598968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/04/sad-dayttlol.html' title='Sad Day...T.T...lol...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-8582963710132121423</id><published>2008-04-09T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T06:24:09.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NAPFA Test</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;I PASSED IT!!! Altought I didn't pass my long jump and shuttle run, just never mind because I passed the other, perfectly passed, not just E grade!!! Wahahahaha...this is the best result of PE test for the whole of my life!!! Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is quite fun, altough I was very busy with my PA duty and my MC duty also. Oh, today's assembly was from Nokia and there's a band, and the vocalist is sooo...handsome and HOT!!! Lucky I did my duty today, then I got an excuse to see him nearer than my friends who can only see him from far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ray was as sweet as usual. He's the first person who knew that Nimo called me last night. And he reacted positively, not like before. Last time he seemed like didn't want to hear about my love life, but now he listens to me happily, sometimes forces me to tell about what happens to me when I look sad or not cheer up like usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommorrow get MC duty again, I like it actually. But I don't know why, I MISS PA room!!! I miss a room that I used to hate from the deepest of my heart, but now I love it also from the deepest of my heart. I love my duty, I love my friends, I love the activity in there, even I love throwing trashes into the hole on the wall (please, please, friends, don't tell my blog account to Mr. Sulaiman, or he'll get mad!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm rushing now, I still need to copy my Malay notes and do my A Math homework and my 31 pages also...Bye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-8582963710132121423?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/8582963710132121423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=8582963710132121423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/8582963710132121423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/8582963710132121423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/04/napfa-test.html' title='NAPFA Test'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-7618325317297071789</id><published>2008-04-08T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T06:57:42.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Birthday Gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Today I'm sixteen. Finally, it will make my mum better to me, at least I can go out until 12 a.m. without she nagging at me. Hehehe...quite nice, next year I'll have my sweet seventeen! OMG, I really can't believe it! With this height, being seventeen? Hehehe...I'm sure that's what my friends will say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Anyway, I was being MC for today's morning assembly. Quite nice, embarassing, and made me nervous. I don't know why I was nervous, it's my job for this perfect 9 years right? Then why I had to shiver on the stage? Exactly not like a professional...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ray looks very cute today. I don't know what did he do to his hair, but I like the new one better than the old one. Today, seems like almost all day he spent with me. I really really like his way in showing his emotion, it makes him looks alive! Even it makes him looks more handsome, hehehehe...lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;OK then today is my best birthday I think, altough there's no single text from Nimo, I don't care. I have Daniel, Irwan, Novia, and especially Ray! What else???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Wait a minute...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;OH GOD!!! NIMO CALLED ME!!! JUST NOW!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Then my best birthday is perfect...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-7618325317297071789?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/7618325317297071789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=7618325317297071789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7618325317297071789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/7618325317297071789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/04/best-birthday-gift.html' title='The Best Birthday Gift'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-6576115791966712236</id><published>2008-04-06T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T07:11:57.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving Library, hehehe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;Well, I admit it's quite sarcastic. I mean, what's so special about library until I can write such thing for today's title? But today I went to library almost for all day, with my roommate. First I went to Bedok Library but we couldn't find empty seats, so we went to Kid's Place and found seats there. But our legs were aching because the chairs were too small and the table was too low also, then we decided to go to Pasir Ris Library.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;We found a nice seats there, with a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of cheese cake (my roommate is a cheese cake's lover, I dunno why...) and started to open our books. Beside me, a boy was sitting with A Math textbook which exactly the same as mine. Then I told my roommate about that, and we saw he was starring at a question. My roommate said, "Help him, I thought he couldn't do it." I replied, "Don't say it loudly, how if he's and Indonesian and he understands what we're talking about?" Guess what? I think my statement was right, because he was looking at us several times before he finally left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;We were giggling continuously, I teased her and she tried to make me stop doing it. Then we started our homeworks, and we stopped giggling. Heuheuheuheu....actually I was still giggling in my heart, but I didn't voice it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;Well, now about Ray. I dunno where is he, but I guess he's in SG. He didn't text me, that's why I dunno where on earth he is. I thought I'm really in love with him, I even dreamt about him last night. Oooohhh...I REALLY want to go to school tommorrow, just to see him! Lucky I'm a book manager, so I have excuse if I'm asking about his attendance. Just say, I need to see you to make sure that you come and I can tick your name. Such a good excuse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;Oh OK OK, tommorrow I want to see Daniel, Irwan, and Novia also. This is in case they open my blog and do not see this sentence, then I'm sure they'll kill me, heheheh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;Bye!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-6576115791966712236?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/6576115791966712236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=6576115791966712236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/6576115791966712236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/6576115791966712236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/04/loving-library-hehehe.html' title='Loving Library, hehehe...'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6620891064866075452.post-8411567560368082024</id><published>2008-04-05T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T08:01:45.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day Having Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;"&gt;My name is Wendy. Three days later, I'll be sixteen. I'm so happy with my life right now, especially because now I'm in Singapore, study here. My hometown is in Indonesia, but now I'm enjoying my life here. There are friends, best friends, roommate, housemate, and a lot of things that I didn't have when I was in Indonesia. I'm happy with my school also. I love the subjects and some teachers (I hate some of them, honestly, but I can't say who, in case they open my blog and find their name here, then just confirmed that I'll get detention for the next day), and especially it is because there is him. He's one of my reason why I'm so excited to come to school everyday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;His name is Ray (not his true name)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I love him since the first time I saw him. My heart was beating faster when I saw him that morning at class. I like his smile, I like his eyes when he talks to me, even I like his way to show his anger to me when he feels uncomfortable. Last time I thought he's DAMN handsome and just unreachable, but now he's here, so close to me, but nobody knows that I love him, except my best friends (of course!) .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Anyway, next week my school will have International Friendship Day. It's gonna be fun, knowing each others' cultures, food, and so on and so on. But it's not fun when I have to do ALL the power point slides, just because I'm the only one who's good in making it in my group. I haven't even done my Chemistry homework and my 31 pages E Math and A Math, it's DAMN exhausting! Lucky I said no when Daniel asked me to go this afternoon, how on earth I can finish my homeworks, even without going with him I still cannot finish them! But no offence, Daniel, don't be angry when you read this post, kay? Hehehehehehe......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'm rushing now, I have to finish the whatever atoms things in my Chemistry homework, sometimes I regret why I chose pure Biology, pure Physics, and pure Chemistry for my Sec 3, they drive me mad! Bye...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6620891064866075452-8411567560368082024?l=purplecutegalz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/feeds/8411567560368082024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6620891064866075452&amp;postID=8411567560368082024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/8411567560368082024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6620891064866075452/posts/default/8411567560368082024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://purplecutegalz.blogspot.com/2008/04/first-day-having-blog.html' title='First Day Having Blog'/><author><name>purple_cute_galz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02744473519837551563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hCZzbh4id80/THRtqmLKFFI/AAAAAAAAAEU/uHxB1dpLWjM/S220/DSC02436.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
