<?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-13224831</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:54:56.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Escapist</title><subtitle type='html'>A demonic thought ran across my brain cells
  Overwhelmed me with continuous joy 
  Rise of victory awaken the adrenaline rush
  Just in time to say
  “ This is life “</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>76</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-115703275276995957</id><published>2006-08-31T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T07:03:05.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(tidak) ada apa-apa</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yang orang-orang bilang tentang saya dan dia…&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A bilang:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"kirain dari dulu kamu sama dia ada apa-apa. soalnya keliatan dari matanya, dia seneng banget kalo ketemu kamu". &lt;span style=""&gt;==&gt;&lt;/span&gt; this one is still easy to handle&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;B bilang:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"dia suka sama kamu lagih...keliatan kok". &lt;span style=""&gt;==&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I still can laugh and say “naah..that can’t be true. we’re just friends, y’know”.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;C bilang:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"tau tuh napa dia pake ga ngaku segala. padahal aku kan juga udah tau alasan yang sebenernya apa. wong ya keliatan gitu kok". &lt;span style=""&gt;==&gt;&lt;/span&gt; oh really?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;D bilang:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ah, kamu sekolah mulu. kapan nikahnya? ("duh, belum kepikiran kali. masih lama deh kayanya") hahahaha....tuh kan, jawabannya aja udah persis sama kaya dia". &lt;span style=""&gt;==&gt;&lt;/span&gt; kenapa tiba2 nyambungnya ke situ? i thought we’re talking about me.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E bilang:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"masa sih diantara kalian ga pernah ada apa-apa? abis kalian keliatannya cocok. sadar ga kalo mukamu mirip sama dia? bukan mirip yang kakak-adik gitu, tapi mirip yang&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;brarti jodoh". &lt;span style=""&gt;==&gt;&lt;/span&gt; udah ga tau lagi mau komentar apa. totally speechless.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jadi sebenernya yang buta itu siapa? Saya, dia, apa orang2 ini sih? They’re not making my life any easier. Cape dehh…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-115703275276995957?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/115703275276995957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=115703275276995957&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115703275276995957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115703275276995957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/08/tidak-ada-apa-apa.html' title='(tidak) ada apa-apa'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-115703232298633549</id><published>2006-08-31T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T06:55:19.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Balada Becak Masa Kini</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jaman sudah banyak berubah. Mungkin itu yang ada di benak orang-orang tua sekarang ini. Jaman dulu segalanya nampak lebih sederhana...dan romantis. Dahulu, menunggu surat dari kekasih berarti menunggu datangnya tukang pos, bukannya pergi ke warnet untuk mengecek e-mail. Jalanan belum penuh kendaraan bermotor sehingga sepeda dan becak adalah pilihan jawara untuk mengajak pacar berkencan. Tapi dibandingkan harus mengayuh sepeda sendiri, menaiki becak memiliki keunggulan, diantaranya: cukup lebar untuk dinaiki berdua tapi cukup sempit untuk bersentuhan lengan tanpa merasa kurang ajar, waktu perjalanan cukup lambat hingga bisa digunakan untuk mengobrol tapi kalau telat sampai tujuan bisa menyalahkan si tukang becak, serta menghasilkan angin sepoi-sepoi yang menciptakan efek luar biasa pada geraian rambut panjang tanpa membuatnya berantakan. &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sampai sekarang becak memang masih ada. Walaupun tidak lagi eksis di kota sebesar Jakarta. Becak masih ada di kota-kota kecil, di dekat pasar dan di antara kendaraan bermotor yang merajai jalanan. Para tukang becak masih setia menunggu datangnya penumpang sambil setengah tertidur di dalam becak, menghindari sengatan matahari siang yang naudzubillah kejamnya. Padahal pendapatan mereka juga tak seberapa. Mereka lebih banyak pasrah pada harga yang diusulkan oleh calon penumpang yang seringkali terasa tidak sepadan dengan jarak maupun tingkat kesulitan medan perjalanan. Perlahan-lahan mereka mulai tergusur dan berkurang jumlah dengan sendirinya.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Terakhir kali saya berbagi becak dengan ibu saya, kami tak banyak berbincang. Kami tenggelam dalam pikiran masing-masing. Saya sibuk merutuk dalam hati, menyesal mengapa tidak lebih memaksa ibu saya untuk naik angkot saja. Secara proporsi tubuh, saya sangat tidak becak-friendly. Dengan badan yang terlalu jangkung untuk dilipat sedemikian rupa ke dalam becak, saya harus terus menunduk agar kepala tidak terbentur rangka penutup becak. Pinggul lebar dan pantat besar juga merupakan permasalahan ekstra. Jalan menanjak membuat saya menahan napas dan berharap itu bisa membuat bobot tubuh menjadi lebih ringan. Apalagi menaksir umur si tukang becak yang harusnya sudah memasuki masa pensiun. Rasanya tak tega untuk tetap duduk dan membiarkan becak merayapi tanjakan dengan susah payah. Singkat kata, saya beranggapan bahwa becak adalah suatu bentuk perbudakan modern.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Saya tak tahu apakah ibu saya berpikiran yang sama. Beliau tetap diam saja. Ketika hampir tiba di tujuan, yaitu rumah nenek saya, barulah saya mengerti. Akhirnya beliau berujar dengan nada khawatir, "Kalau sebecak berdua sama kamu aja udah sesak begini, apalagi sama papa ya? Wah, payah. Memang udah nggak bisa romantis-romantisan lagi nih.."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ealah, ternyata lagi kangen jaman pacaran dulu toh. Ya jelas beda lah. Jaman dulu kan bapak ibu masih sama-sama kurus...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-115703232298633549?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/115703232298633549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=115703232298633549&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115703232298633549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115703232298633549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/08/balada-becak-masa-kini.html' title='Balada Becak Masa Kini'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-115548019140858659</id><published>2006-08-13T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T07:48:08.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ignorance is a bliss, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Sering banget denger berita tentang nelayan atau petani atau siapalah yang menyalahkan pemerintah atas bencana yang mereka alami. Misalnya nih, nelayan di berbagai pantai yang kena gelombang pasang atau tsunami menuduh pemerintah lalai dan lamban karena belum menyediakan bantuan dan tempat pengungsian. Padahal menurut pandangan saya, kenapa juga mereka bikin rumah terlalu dekat dengan bibir pantai? Kenapa juga mereka membabat hutan bakau yang bisa jadi penahan gelombang? Kenapa mereka baru teriak2 waktu semua sudah terlambat, tempat tinggal hancur, tak bisa melaut karena kapal rusak? Atau contoh dari para petani. Hampir tiap musim tanam mereka ngeluh pada pemerintah yang tidak bisa menurunkan harga pupuk. Harga pupuk mahal padahal nantinya hasil panen tidak diberi harga yang sepadan. Padahal menurut saya, udah banyak juga contoh dari kelompok2 petani yang bisa bikin pupuk organik sendiri dengan hasil panen yang tak kalah bagus dengan yang memakai pupuk buatan pabrik, impor pula (pantes aja mahal). Kalau ditanya kenapa tidak mencoba meniru, katanya tidak begitu yang diinstruksikan pemerintah dan mereka pun juga sudah terbiasa memakai pupuk impor. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Kemarin teman kos saya juga bercerita tentang daerah asalnya, Makassar. Dia bilang, keadaan Sulawesi tuh jauh banget sama Jawa. Jalan trans-Sulawesi aja belum ada. Jalan antar kota atau kabupaten jelek banget, perjalanan antar kabupaten kurang lebih 2 jam, malah ada jembatan yang udah lama banget roboh ga ada yang memperbaiki dan sebagai gantinya cuma ada batang2 pohon kelapa yang diikat jadi satu. Gila, ngeri banget. Selip dikit kan terjun ke jurang atau sungai tuh. Saya tanya, bukannya sekarang sudah ada kementerian percepatan pembangunan daerah tertinggal? Membantukah itu? Kata dia, lumayan, sedikit membaik. Okelah, jaman orde baru dulu mungkin segala sesuatunya sangat tergantung dari pemerintah pusat. Gimana dengan sekarang? Memangnya pemerintah daerah nggak bisa inisiatif bikin proyek2 untuk memajukan daerah masing2? Teman saya tertawa kecut menanggapi pertanyaan2 saya yang kayanya emang terlalu naïf. Dia jawab, presiden boleh ganti, presiden baru boleh punya visi2 baru, tapi orang2 yang kerja di pemerintahan, baik di pusat maupun daerah, ya tetep itu2 aja. Sudah terlanjur terbiasa dengan pola lama. Gimana mau maju? Lhah, kok dia yang malah balik tanya. Saya jadi prihatin dan kasihan, tapi entah untuk siapa saja. Mungkin untuk semua penduduk Indonesia, termasuk pada saya sendiri.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Sebegitu tergantungnyakah kita pada pemerintah? Semuanya harus nunggu disuruh, diinstruksikan, diajari dsb. Anggep ajalah orang2 besar (jabatannya, perutnya, rumahnya, ukuran garasinya, egonya atau apalah) yang kantornya di Jakarta sono terlalu sibuk dan udah saatnya kita2 ini mengusahakan kemakmuran dan keselamatan masing2. Masa kudu nunggu bencana dulu baru (mungkin) sadar? Itu kalau pemerintah cukup tanggap untuk menangani dan mengatasi. Kalo enggak, ya sama aja lingkaran setan yang muter terus2an disitu. Pusing dah baca koran atau majalah berita di Indonesia. Bukannya sok pinter, tapi kadang permasalahannya terletak pada kebodohan dan ketidakacuhan manusianya sendiri terhadap lingkungannya masing2. Sometimes you wish you could do something, but you don't know where to start. Apa gara2 saya juga termasuk tipe yang nunggu instruksi dari atasan? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;-&lt;/o:p&gt;niken, yang tidak bisa untuk tidak kelihatan naif -&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-115548019140858659?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/115548019140858659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=115548019140858659&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115548019140858659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115548019140858659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/08/ignorance-is-bliss-anyone.html' title='ignorance is a bliss, anyone?'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-115547766496792085</id><published>2006-08-13T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T07:06:06.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olive (yang tidak bersama Popeye)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know what got into me lately. I listen to jazz more than any other kinds of music (ga sengaja denger lagu My Heart tiap kali masuk toko ga ikut diitung yah). Sekitar 2 minggu lalu, pas lagi jalan2 ke Plaza Ambarrukmo dan melawat ke Bulletin (ataw Disc Tarra, ga inget juga), tumben yang disetel bukan Samsons ataw Nidji ataw soundtrack film Heart (hehehe...disebut2 mulu, ada dendam pribadi kayanya yah). Lagunya sih lagu2 lama gitu. Sebangsanya 'Saving All My Love For You', 'How Deep Is Your Love' dan 'Just The Two Of Us'. Tapi vokalnya itu lho, menurut saya sih a lightweight Nina Simone. Tanya punya tanya, ternyata yang nyanyi namanya Olive, vokalis jazz baru dari Indonesia. Sayangnya pas pengen beli, ternyata kasetnya lagi abis, sementara kalo mo beli CD ga ada duitnya. Akhirnya terpaksa nahan penasaran dulu. Baru tadi pas lagi pergi ama nyokap, kesampean juga buat beli. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dan ternyata saya salah.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ga bener dengerin lagu2 kaya gini sendirian.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bayangin aja gini: kamu lagi ada di sebuah kafe di satu hotel berbintang pada Valentine’s Day, menunggu blind date yang tak kunjung datang, padahal kamu udah terlanjur pake baju warna merah mencolok dengan korsase mawar super besar sesuai kesepakatan. Duduknya di meja paling tengah pula. Biar gampang keliatanlah pokoknya. Sementara itu, orang2 disekitarmu berpasang2an menikmati perayaan hari penuh cinta (soalnya hari laen mereka tidak saling mencintai). Kamu jadi brasa salah tempat di waktu yang salah. Satu2nya yang menghibur adalah band yang lagi main di panggung, membawakan lagu ‘It Might Be You’ dengan manisnya. Menghibur sekaligus ironis mengiris trus nancep di hati dalem banget gitu deh aww…&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, that one was a product of an overworked imagination.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tapi beneran, si Olive ini could have done something better than this. Kalo aja dia dapet materi yang lebih bagus (mungkin lagu2 baru dan tidak cuma meng-cover lagu lama kaya sekarang), albumnya bisa kedengeran lebih hebat dari sekedar serangkaian musik latar buat disetel di restoran atau kafe para eksmud. Mungkin album2 berikutnya yah. Nevertheless, saya tetep suka sama suaranya yang empuk ini… &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Personal fave tracks: Just the Two of Us, It Might Be You.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;P.S. Besok2 pengen beli ‘Jazz Masa Kini’ dari Aksara Records ah. Abisnya terpesona dengan videoklip Indra Azis yang ‘Jakarta City Blues’. Orangnya rada2 ajaib gitu sih.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-115547766496792085?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/115547766496792085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=115547766496792085&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115547766496792085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115547766496792085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/08/olive-yang-tidak-bersama-popeye.html' title='Olive (yang tidak bersama Popeye)'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-115487708348771616</id><published>2006-08-06T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T08:11:23.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bencana ketjil2an</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Dimulai dari rusaknya harddisk laptop saya. Sempet menangisi kebodohan saya yang nggak punya backup data2 penting (lagu2  yang 10GB lebih dan foto2 selama di Belanda). Alhamdulillah, pada akhirnya, sebagian besar data bisa selamat. Jadi rada sia2 juga itu air mata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minggu lalu, kunci kos saya ketinggalan di Semarang. Sadarnya kapan? Pas udah di Magelang. Bodoh sekali. Padahal sejak semalam sebelum berangkat saya sudah yakin betul itu kunci ada di tas saya. Udah ngebayangin berbagai kejadian dramatis seperti misalnya mencungkil pintu ala maling di pilem2 holiwut. Ga segitunya sih. Ada kunci cadangan kok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kemarin subuh, teman kos saya di lantai 2 kemalingan. Kehilangan laptop dan handphone. Benernya didalem tas laptop ada dompet juga. Tapi dasar maling kurang ajar, setelah duit cash diambil, dompetnya dibuang gitu aja di depan pager kos. Kenapa ga sekalian ninggalin tas laptopnya di depan garasi? Berhubung lokasi kamar tidak dekat TKP, tidak ikut diinterogasi polisi. Sayang tidak dipasang pita kuning yang tulisannya Police Line ituh. Padahal pengen dijadiin background poto2. Tapi sempet sok2 investigasi. Evidence: jejak kaki di genteng, jendela tidak terkunci dan kamar sedikit terbuka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moga2 besok2 ini ga ada kejadian2 kaya gitu lagih...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-115487708348771616?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/115487708348771616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=115487708348771616&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115487708348771616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115487708348771616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/08/bencana-ketjil2an.html' title='bencana ketjil2an'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-115427930351053262</id><published>2006-07-30T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-30T10:13:20.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Devil lives in that box</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I grew really sick of infotainments. And sadly, that's like the majority of TV shows these days. Those ' celebrities' were there because of various reasons. From scandalous affairs to mundane things like what kind of plushies they brought to the set so they could nap between takes. Jeez, there were village wars in Papua and crazy Israelis destroying other countries out there. Not to mention earthquakes and tsunamis and gas explosions and floods and droughts and many other series of unfortunate events. God bless our President. He hasn't shot himself in the head for having a stupid big mouth sidekick who always manage to make the situation worse by making empty promises. But these infotainments have more 'urgent' news to deliver. It's that pretty sinetron starlet, she might be breaking up with her musician boyfriend because they hasn't seen each other in 10 days. Yep, definitely the end of an era. &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Go on change the channels. See what you can find. Sinetrons? They're pathetic. My uncle's girlfriend is in one of 'em. But so sorry to say that she doesn't act any better than the others. Yes, I watched that particular one to see how she's doing. At least she's playing a good girl. So she doesn't have to scream profanities at the top of her lungs with eyes so wide they almost fall out of their sockets. Bless her and her future career. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;But in the end, it's better to just turn the tv off. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-115427930351053262?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/115427930351053262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=115427930351053262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115427930351053262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115427930351053262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/07/devil-lives-in-that-box.html' title='Devil lives in that box'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-115427908634099161</id><published>2006-07-30T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-30T10:12:19.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mr. Paperbag</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Engkau debu dalam mata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Membuat perih saat berkedip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Sepersekian detik lalu hilang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kemana?, aku tanya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Tak ada jawaban&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Biarlah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Saat badai kau pasti kembali&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Jatuh luruh dalam genggaman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Lalu jadi berlian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all these years, I still find myself embarassingly nervous being in the same room with him. Let alone trying to hold a civilized conversation. ABG banget sih?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blame the occasion and the formal outfit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, I blame the tendency to self-inflict a painful heartache. It's been goin' on forever. I know I'll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-115427908634099161?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/115427908634099161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=115427908634099161&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115427908634099161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/115427908634099161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/07/dear-mr-paperbag.html' title='Dear Mr. Paperbag'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114994895472299963</id><published>2006-06-10T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T07:17:11.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Junk Of The Hearts</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Salah satu kebiasaan jelek saya adalah tidak bisa membuang barang. Lemari dan rak di kamar saya penuh dengan barang2 yang sebenarnya tidak bisa dipakai, tapi saya tak tega membuangnya. Padahal kebanyakan diantaranya memang sudah seharusnya disingkirkan. Entah berapa kali saya diomeli soal kamar yang berantakan atau isi laci yang mirip tempat sampah. Tapi mau bagaimana lagi? Buat saya 'sampah2' ini punya kenangan masing2 yang sulit untuk dihilangkan begitu saja. &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Beberapa diantaranya adalah yang saya temukan hari ini. Sebuah kotak plastik yang diselubung karton tipis dengan tulisan tangan seorang kawan. &lt;i&gt;Met ultah, Niken. Hope all your dreams come true. &lt;/i&gt;Begitu tulisannya dengan tinta biru metalik. Dan tentu saja saya tidak membuang bungkus kertasnya. Saya melepas pita perekatnya dengan hati2 agar tidak sobek. Saya lipat rapi dan simpan dalam kantung agenda lama yang dulu sering saya bawa kemana2. Sampai sekarang masih ada walaupun mulai menguning dipinggir2nya. Bahkan saya tidak sadar sampai baru saja menemukannya. Isi kotak plastiknya? Tentu saja masih saya pakai hingga sekarang.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Apakah sebegitu pentingnya setiap bagian dari pemberian beberapa tahun lalu tersebut? &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ya. Sangat.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sayangnya, kecuali kawan saya bisa baca pikiran, dia tak akan pernah tahu soal itu. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nah, apakah dia akan ingat pada ulang tahun saya tahun ini? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mungkin iya. Tapi kado yang dulu itu akan tetap jadi yang satu2nya. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114994895472299963?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114994895472299963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114994895472299963&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114994895472299963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114994895472299963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/06/junk-of-hearts.html' title='Junk Of The Hearts'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114994822843369443</id><published>2006-06-10T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T07:08:22.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>blue is my color</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;if anyone ask, i'll reply:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;He's much better off with someone who is NOT like me, and I'm much better off alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;believe me, it made life easier knowing that other people are happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114994822843369443?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114994822843369443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114994822843369443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114994822843369443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114994822843369443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/06/blue-is-my-color.html' title='blue is my color'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114874376293192789</id><published>2006-05-27T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T08:53:21.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>kyaaa....gempaaa!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Hukkssss.....sedih banget deh denger berita musibah yang baru kejadian tadi pagi sekitar hampir jam 6 pagi. Ada gempa lumayan gede yang melanda daerah Jogja dan sekitarnya, termasuk Solo, Klaten, dsb. Bahkan di Semarang aja kerasa gempanya. Katanya sih terasa juga sampai Jawa Timur. Dahsyat yak?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seumur2 baru tadi pagi lho saya ngerasain gempa. Ternyata kaya orang pusing gitu. Semuanya goyang2 kiri-kanan. Mama saya sempet mikir, "Kok pusing ya? Apa jangan2 mau pingsan nih?". Trus papa saya heboh, "Lho, gempa ya? Ayo semua turun!! Harus keluar rumah!!". Saya juga tau sih kalo ada gempa gitu memang harus segera keluar rumah untuk mengantisipasi yang tidak diharapkan. Tapi saya terpaksa gak nurut soalnya jujur aja, situasi saya rada sulit. I was in a middle of umm... an unfinished business in the toilet so i guess unless I saw the walls were cracking and the roof were falling, I'll stick to where I was :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang barusan itu berita ga penting. Berita yang lebih penting saya dapet lewat TV, dan sms teman2 dan sodara2 saya. Ternyata...parah banget kerusakannya di beberapa daerah. Kalo liat tayangan berita tuh yang paling parahnya sampe rumah2 rata sama tanah, korban meninggal sampe ribuan, korban luka2 banyak yang ga ketampung RS, dsb. Kabarnya gempa tersebut berkekuatan sekitar 5.9 skala Richter dan berasal dari Laut Selatan. Daerah Jogja yang terparah ada di daerah Bantul yang emang cuma 40 km dari episentrum. Jeez, it's terrible...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adik saya, alhamdulillah, entah dapet firasat apa, semalem pulang ke rumah. Padahal 2 hari sebelumnya dia bilang lagi sibuk, banyak tugas dan ga sempet pulang. Sedari pagi dia udah panik berusaha kontak teman2nya di Jogja dan ga ada yang sukses dihubungi. Pada akhirnya, dia dapet berita kalo lantai 2 kos2an dia rubuh sehingga, literally, sekarang beratapkan langit. Ada temen kosnya yang ketimpa genteng dan luka kepala. Mobil temannya rusak parah ketimpa carport. Kamar kos dia keliatannya baik2 aja, dan untungnya, berhubung kemaren long weekend, kebanyakan temen2nya sedang pulang kampung. Tapi berita sedihnya, eyang salah satu temannya meninggal dunia. Yang lebih sedih lagi, ada satu temennya yang tinggal di Bantul, daerah yang kerusakannya paling parah, tidak bisa dihubungi. Ada yang udah berusaha mencari kesana, tapi berhubung hampir semua bangunan udah rata dengan tanah, temannya itu masih tidak diketahui keberadaannya. Moga2 aja temen adik saya itu baik2 saja ya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bude saya sekeluarga juga tinggal di Jogja. Sepupu saya, anak bude saya ini, rumahnya terletak diseberang rumah bude. Setelah gempa tadi pagi, rumah bude baik2 saja tapi rumah sepupu saya dikabarkan ambruk. Dan, alhamdulillah lagi, sepupu saya sekeluarga sedang ada di rumah mertuanya jadi mereka baik2 saja. Tetangga2 bude saya juga mengalami rumah ambruk atau genteng berjatuhan atau tembok retak2. Maghrib tadi bude mengabarkan kalau malam ini mereka akan tidur diluar rumah untuk mengantisipasi gempa susulan yang walopun ga sekuat gempa aslinya, tapi siapa tau bikin rumah yang sudah nggak kokoh itu jadi runtuh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya menanyakan juga kabar teman2 saya lewat sms. Siapa tau mereka punya kerabat yang tinggal di Jogja dan sekitarnya. Kelihatannya hampir semua baik2 saja. Dinto kebetulan sedang liburan di Jogja dan merasakan langsung guncangan2 gempa yang katanya kaya "naik kereta sambil tiduran". Kata dia juga, adiknya dengan norak bikin heboh satu perumahan berkat bikin gosip tentang adanya tsunami. Nining sempat panik adiknya ga di rumah dan ga bisa dihubungi. Tapi sekarang udah ketemu dan baik2 aja kok. Eyang teman saya genteng rumahnya berjatuhan dan TVnya pecah. Teman satu lagi rumah budenya tertimpa rumah tetangga walaupun tak ada korban jiwa. Teman lain lagi baik2 saja tapi daerah KKNnya rusak parah. Saya juga sms Shinta dan Remon, siapa tau mereka belum dapet kabar tentang gempa ini. Tapi sampe sekarang mereka berdua kok belum membalas ya? Soalnya setau saya keluarga mereka kan tinggal di Jogja dan Solo. I really hope they're ok..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teman2, berdoa yuk buat mereka2 yang jadi korban beserta keluarga mereka yang selamat. Urusan Merapi belom beres, ternyata masih ditambah dengan gempa ini. Moga2 mereka kuat ngadepin cobaan yah. Amiiinnn....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*Updates!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Dapet kabar kalo keluarga Shinta dan Remon baik2 saja. Ah, senangnya : ) Ibunya Remon malah udah buka toko hari ini. Ada klarifikasi berita bahwa rumah sepupu saya tidak ambruk, cuma jendela depan copot dan sedikit rontok langit2nya. But overall, their house is OK. Sebagai tambahan, ada cerita heroik dari bude mengenai tetangga beliau yang berusaha menyelamatkan bayinya. Tapi pada waktu diluar rumah malah tertimpa pagar. Bayinya selamat, tapi tetangga bude tersebut mengalami patah kaki di 2 tempat dan ketika berusaha mendapat pertolongan malah ditolak RS yang memang penuh sesak dengan korban gempa. Berulang kali dirujuk ke RS lain, dari Jogja ke Klaten sampai Solo hingga akhirnya diterima di RS yang ada di Magelang. Can you imagine that? Kena musibah jam 6 pagi dan baru dapet perawatan rumah sakit jam 10 malam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adik saya sudah kembali ke Jogja dan sign-up sebagai relawan di RS Sardjito. Sayang sekali, temannya yang tinggal di Bantul itu masih tak jelas bagaimana kabarnya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114874376293192789?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114874376293192789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114874376293192789&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114874376293192789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114874376293192789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/05/kyaaagempaaa.html' title='kyaaa....gempaaa!!!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114857543340407778</id><published>2006-05-25T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T09:43:53.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sexual harassment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I wanna know how y'all react if you were in a situation like mine last weekend. Here's the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waktu itu saya lagi di Jakarta dan menginap di rumah tante yang punya anak perempuan 5 tahun nan merepotkan. Keliatan banget kalo anak tante ini sangat kesepian dan tiap kali ada yang bisa jadi temen main, girangnya bukan main. Jadilah saya ikutan repot dan capek diajak kesana kemari meladeni dia main lempar bola, boneka, gendong2, menari2, menyanyi2 dsb. Hiperaktif banget dah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi masalah yang mau saya ceritain bukan itu. Saya dibikin syok berat waktu dia pamitan mau tidur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kita berdua masih duduk diatas tempat tidur waktu tiba2 dia ngomong:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nenen mbak Niken besar *staring at my breast*. Aku kalo bobo sambil megangin nenen mama *still staring*."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaksi saya? Kayanya sih melotot dikit sambil ketawa grogi trus menggumam entah apa. Belum habis kaget dan bingung, tiba2 dia mencium bibir saya lalu memanjat turun dari tempat tidur. Dengan santai dia keluar kamar, melambai dan bilang, "good night, mbak Niken".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya tetap bengong. What was that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I thought, mine? Big? What did she compare 'em to? Her Barbie teacups? She needs to see my friends'. Pasti dia ga bakal minat lagi tidur sama saya atau mamanya :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114857543340407778?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114857543340407778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114857543340407778&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114857543340407778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114857543340407778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/05/sexual-harassment.html' title='sexual harassment'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114727485797910440</id><published>2006-05-10T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T08:29:48.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>P.I.M.P hood</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Udah cerita ke Arin sih. Tapi pengen cerita lagi aja&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Suatu siang, di meja makan bersama mama dan oma. Mereka bicara tentang Is, asisten pribadi oma saya yang sedang diperbantukan ke rumah bude di Jogja. Kabarnya Is akan segera menyusul ke Semarang. Lalu mama saya kuatir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mama&lt;/span&gt;: katanya Is mau ke Semarang sendiri dari Jogja. kok malah nguatiri yo? soalnya dia bilang mau naik bis dari Jogja, turun di Terboyo, trus naik angkot jurusan kalicari (nama gang didaerah rumah saya). mana ada angkot jurusan kalicari?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;oma&lt;/span&gt;: lha nek arep mrene numpak opo? mosok ora ono sing tekan kene, daerah &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;mucikari&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;? (wuoootttt????)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Langsung saat itu juga saya tersedak brownies yang sedang saya kunyah pelan2 dengan nikmat, sementara mama saya terpana sepersekian detik sebelum dilanjutkan dengan tertawa2 sampe menitikkan air mata. Oma saya sendiri tidak segera menyadari silap kata beliau sampai beberapa menit kemudian, yang akhirnya hanya tertawa kecil sedikit malu2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oma saya memang kadang2 ajaib...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114727485797910440?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114727485797910440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114727485797910440&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114727485797910440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114727485797910440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/05/pimp-hood.html' title='P.I.M.P hood'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114719090516707050</id><published>2006-05-09T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T09:14:48.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Answer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have found the answer to my life-long question.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Q: Can a man and a woman ever just be friends?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: For a short time perhaps. Making the friendship last requires that you find each other at least vaguely repulsive. Good luck. (Reader’s Digest May 2006)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114719090516707050?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114719090516707050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114719090516707050&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114719090516707050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114719090516707050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/05/answer.html' title='The Answer'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114719078550263246</id><published>2006-05-09T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T09:13:40.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>APA* Speech</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Good evening, everybody. My name is Nicoletta**. I've always been an accident waiting to happen. I...um...I have difficulties on...uh...putting focus on what I was doing. And today something happened to me. I was driving my mom's car while my mind was busy elsewhere. I guess I was thinking about what happened last night. And then, I almost hit a truck that suddenly stopped on the left side of the car. I was too near to that huge thing and I grazed the front-left side. To make things worse, I just fled the scene of the accident. The damage wasn't severe but I'm still scared of telling my parents about it. Sooner or later, I’m sure they would find out. It is kind of visible, if you look at it carefully. I was thinking of faking a black-out or amnesia, but I guess that's not a good idea. I know if they found out, my mom would ban me from driving on my own and start preaching on how I should start giving full attention on everything. I should always focus, focus, focus. Especially while driving a car. I've been too sloppy and it is very very dangerous. I don't know what I should do. I could pretend I knew nothing, right? I could do that, couldn't I? Help me, I think I need help on this problem...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;*&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Accident Prone Anonymous&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** under false name to protect real identity.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114719078550263246?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114719078550263246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114719078550263246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114719078550263246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114719078550263246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/05/apa-speech.html' title='APA* Speech'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114719067222463675</id><published>2006-05-09T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T09:11:05.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>... Corinne oh Corinne ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have been planning on buying her record since 'Put Your Records On' is gaining airplays on MTV and VH1. Watching her singing while riding her bike across country roads gave a thick summer feel that I needed these days. I secretly wanted to be her, catching warm breeze in early morning sun. Don't you agree that the months between spring and summer is the most romantic times of the year?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So today I put this record on, and I was totally blown away. Suddenly I was back to the time when love was bittersweet and counting flower petals of he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not was everything I could do. The lyrics were sometimes sad, but with music that calms your soul. Simply perfect. And I can't help but listen to them over and over again.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In the end, when I got overwhelmed by memories, I texted Miss Babette on how the world seems perfect with Miss Rae. I sighed when she replied that she’s also, "...Corinne-ing in my room, make me miss u and our days even more..."&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Personal favorites: 'Like A Star', 'Enchantment', 'Trouble Sleeping', 'Seasons Change'&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;07.05.06&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114719067222463675?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114719067222463675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114719067222463675&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114719067222463675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114719067222463675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/05/corinne-oh-corinne.html' title='... Corinne oh Corinne ...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114563630371877527</id><published>2006-04-21T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T09:21:51.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>milk *used to* make me sick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Suatu sore di sebuah kafe bersama teman saya, Andri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Saya (S): mmm...mbak, buat saya cinnamon latte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Mbak Pelayan (MP): satu mocca smoothies sama satu cinnamon latte....ini bill-nya atas nama siapa ya?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: ng...Niken aja deh mbak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Beberapa saat kemudian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;MP: silakan, mbak *sambil naruh mug warna coklat di meja*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: terima kasih&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: *menyeruput sedikit trus mengerenyitkan dahi* loh, kok rasanya gini?!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Andri (A): kenapa emang?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: kok susu banget?!?? kan aku tadi minta latte. mana kopinya?!? kok ga krasa kopinya?!? *mulai naek darah*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A: say, kamu tadi pesen apaan? diinget2 dulu coba.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: cinnamon latte *ngejawab dengan polos*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A: brarti ga salah kan kalo emang ga ada kopinya? dimana2 juga latte artinya susu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: nggak dong!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A: eh, dibilangin juga kalo latte itu artinya susu....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: nggak lagi!! *tetep ngotot* latte kan itu tuh...kopi...yang...pake susu...eh, itu cafe latte ding ya? *blushing*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A: hmmmppphhh....huhuhu.... *ngampet ketawa*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;S: hehehe...tapi enak juga kok. cinnamon-nya bikin ga eneg. *nyengir2 tengsin*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;bego ah saya. untung cuma berdua doang.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114563630371877527?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114563630371877527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114563630371877527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114563630371877527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114563630371877527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/04/milk-used-to-make-me-sick.html' title='milk *used to* make me sick'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114546425395511439</id><published>2006-04-19T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T09:32:48.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the turning point</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tadi sore saya hepi sekali. Dikabarin sama adik saya, kalo karya tulis kelompok dia dapat juara satu dan bulan depan bakal maju presentasi ke tingkat regional di Banjarmasin. Gila, anak itu tambah berprestasi aja gitu. Padahal sampai beberapa tahun lalu, dia beda banget ama sekarang...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dulu tuh, adik saya bisa dibilang pemalas, disuruh belajar susahnya bukan main. Ibu saya sampai stres berat. Sempet cemas adik saya bakal lulus EBTANAS (atau udah UAN ya waktu itu?) dengan nilai jelek dan ga bisa kuliah di universitas yang bagus. Soalnya melihat sejarah nilai rapor selama SMP sampai SMA kelas 3 cawu 2 yang pas2an mulu, ibu saya udah pusing tujuh keliling. Tapi entah kesambet apaan, tau2 aja nilai dia brubah jadi bagus. Bahkan lulus SMA dengan nilai rata2 8. Lumayan toh? Wong nilai saya aja lebih rendah dari itu (hiks...malu..). Adik saya emang ga lewat jalur SPMB, tapi ngambil ujian masuk di beberapa tempat. Saya ingat, dia ujian di UII Jogja 2 kali untuk jurusan Teknik Kimia dan Teknik Sipil. Setelah itu ITB untuk Teknik Material dan UGM untuk Farmasi. Eh lha, lulus semua. Tinggal milih mau masuk yang mana. Akhirnya mutusin buat ke UGM aja. &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Gaya&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; banget &lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;kan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Setelah dia masuk kuliah taun 2004, sepertinya dia udah langganan IP di atas 3. Plus penelitian2 seperti karya tulis yang tentang teripang itu. Setau saya, dia dan kelompoknya sedang mengajukan proposal penelitian satu lagi tentang emulsifikasi VCO (Virgin Coconut Oil yang lagi beken disini), yang kata dia bakal bikin "...sibuk banget deh ntar. Bisa2 aku makin jarang pulang ke &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Semarang&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;". &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hmmhhhhh......kok dia tiba2 rajin dan pinter gitu sih? Makan apa dia? Kesambet setan mana? Dapet wangsit apa? Dibikin kapok ama siapa? Apa dia sempet kejeduk atau kegetok kepalanya yang bikin susunan saraf2 otaknya berubah dan bikin dia insaf?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Salah satu teman saya cerita, kakak laki2 dia sekarang bekerja di &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Jakarta&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; di sebuah perusahaan minyak multinasional yang cukup ternama. Padahal sewaktu SMA dulu, setiap kali dia cerita tentang kakaknya itu selalu dengan embel2, "masku yang pemales banget", atau, "masku sing bandel kuwi lho", atau, "masku sing senengane ugal2an". Tapi dia juga mengakui kalo sekarang kakaknya udah menapaki karir dengan mantap, bahkan bisa dia jadikan teladan dan contoh. Ini juga nih, kok bisa berubah cukup drastis ya?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sampai sekarang saya masih menganggap adik saya ini kecil dan imut. Padahal secara ukuran tubuh yang at least 10 senti lebih tinggi dari saya, jelas nggak banget. Kadang masih suka heran liat dia yang sekarang sebegitu jangkung, wangi, rapi dan sadar mode. Selama saya tinggal ke Belanda, ngapain aja dia? Apa jangan2 dia dulu ga berkembang gara2 ada mbaknya ya? Huhuhuhu.....sedih bener saya ini....&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Apakah memang perlu sebuah titik balik dimana manusia merasa harus merubah nasibnya? Sedari tadi saya merenungi, titik balik saya kapan ya? Saya merasa stagnan, tak ada kemajuan. Tiap kali ketemu teman lama, pasti ditanya sudah bekerja atau belum. Lalu saya menjawab bahwa saya punya rencana untuk kuliah lagi, tapi seakan sedikit membela diri untuk fakta bahwa saya masih menganggur dan tidak banyak berusaha mencari kerja. Tapi sudah kerja atau belum &lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;kan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; juga bukan tolok ukur keberhasilan toh? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh well, kan memang sudah jalan hidup saya begini. Keputusan sudah diambil. Saya akan kuliah S2 di UGM, magister Teknologi Informasi jurusan Information System Management. Bila tak ada halangan apapun, mulai bulan Juni saya sudah menetap di Jogja. Doakan saja semoga inilah titik balik saya. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114546425395511439?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114546425395511439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114546425395511439&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114546425395511439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114546425395511439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/04/turning-point.html' title='the turning point'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114468278883601070</id><published>2006-04-10T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T08:28:56.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>silent sigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We have a whole life to live together, you fucker! But it can't start until you call"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;-abis nonton Me and You and Everyone We Know, entah untuk keberapa kali-&lt;/span&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/13224831-114468278883601070?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114468278883601070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114468278883601070&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114468278883601070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114468278883601070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/04/silent-sigh.html' title='silent sigh'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114468243321500283</id><published>2006-04-10T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T08:20:33.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>saya jatuh cinta lagi....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;.... sama Tohpati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ehehehehe...... :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He's just so cute. At least menurut saya. Seinget saya, pertama kali saya naksir tuh pas jaman SMP deh. Trus patah hati berat pas denger dia pernah ada affair sama KD (that biatch!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tapi hati saya lumer lagi gara2 dia main gitar khusus buat saya uhuhuhu.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, that's not what happen exactly. Yang bener, tanggal 7 April kemaren saya bareng ayah saya nonton Trisum. Itu tuh, gabungan Budjana, Balawan dan Tohpati plus additional player. Dan saya memilih tempat duduk yang sangat strategis. Mumpung dibayarin, beli tiketnya yang VIP. Udah gitu dapet deretan ketiga dari depan, yang ternyata di depan Tohpati persis!! Sedaapp....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Udah gituuuuuu......drummernya juga cute. Lengkap deh hiburannya ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menurut saya, Budjana tuh paling bisa bikin suasana terasa magis dan menghipnotis (cieee.....), sementara kalo aransemennya Tohpati lebih rumit tapi tetep enak didengernya. Kalo Balawan sih seru liat aksi panggungnya. Sama bengong2 denger bunyi2an yang keluar dari gitarnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puas banget 2 jam lebih nonton Trisum. Worth every penny. Malah lebih puas daripada nonton JavaJazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi ga suka deh ama asap rokoknya. Saya juga kebagian 2 kotak rokok Djarum pas baru masuk. Sampe sekarang heran sendiri: kenapa diterima rokoknya, bego? Masih ada tuh di tas. Ada yang mau?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm....udah gitu pas mau keluar dari convention hall-nya, saya ngeliat teman sekelas saya pas kelas 2 SMA dulu. Jadi saya udah pede aja senyum2 sejak masih jauh. Pas udah deket, dengan ceria saya sapa dia "Hai!!" dengan senyum lebar plus lambaian tangan. Ramah banget dah pokoknya. Emang sih dia jawab "Hai" juga, tapi mukanya keliatan mikir "ini cewek sapa sih??". Hukksss.....tengsin....&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/13224831-114468243321500283?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114468243321500283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114468243321500283&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114468243321500283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114468243321500283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/04/saya-jatuh-cinta-lagi_10.html' title='saya jatuh cinta lagi....'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114347764740926502</id><published>2006-03-27T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T08:40:47.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>impulsif</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kayanya kebiasaan jelek ini kudu diilangin deh. Bertindak tanpa mikir. Jadinya nyesel sendiri tapi yah...mau diapain lagi. Kok masih sering aja ya saya bertindak impulsif? Udah umur segini rada ga pantes deh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seperti barusan, saya kirim sms ga penting ke seseorang yang seharusnya tidak saya kirimi sms malam ini. Sial, dia pasti jadi mikir saya perempuan yang putus asa. Kalo bisa saya mau ke tempat dia, ngambil hpnya dan hapus sms saya barusan. Tapi mana mungkin? Lha wong dia on the other side of this island. Mari kita berharap bisa turn back the time saja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, pernah punya 'toxic friend'? Seseorang yang ngaku temen, ya emang temen sih kalo diliat2 dari lingkungan pergaulan bertaun2 yang lalu, tapi selalu bikin kesel dan melelahkan secara emosional. I recently got myself into this shitty situation beberapa minggu lalu. Well, ga shitty2 amat. Untungnya belom ketemu langsung. Baru sms dan telpon (dari pihak dia tentunya) doang. Tapi tiap kali dia telpon atau sms, saya cukup naik darah dibikinnya. Padahal saya dalam saat bersamaan ngerasa nggak enak kalo ngomongnya jadi 'kasar'. Tapi tadi saya sempet rada kasar juga sih sama dia. Sms dia, secara impulsif, saya bales dengan kata2 yang menyiratkan "Get a life, cos my life ain't revolving around you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jahat ga sih? Abis itu rada nyesel. Mungkin harusnya saya ga bilang gitu. Tapi di sisi lain, itu orang kalo ditanggepin kok ya bikin saya cepet tua karena ngomel2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, besok pagi tenis lagi. Belakangan ini saya penyakitan deh. Udah seminggu lebih batuk saya belom sembuh, yang kalo lagi kumat bikin suara saya jadi mirip bencong, trus kemarin sabtu pas tenis cedera punggung pula. Heheh...ga tau juga cedera atau bukan. Sekitar 2 bulanan yang lalu udah pernah begini. Tapi yang sekarang sembuhnya lebih lama. Yang pasti, kalo solat saya nggak bisa ruku' tanpa mringis nahan nyeri. Udah gitu sakitnya kadang menjalar sampe sepenjuru pinggang dan punggung bagian bawah. Kalo sampe besok belom sembuh, maybe I need to see a doctor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning, I may gain weight beberapa bulan ke depan. Project baru sepupu saya (yang saya bantuin) berbahaya bagi kesehatan dan penampilan hehehe....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adios, friends. Doain punggung saya cepet sembuh, biar ga perlu ke dokter dan semoga batuk saya cepat sembuh biar ga nularin orang banyak. Doain juga temen saya yang ngeselin itu stop bothering me. Ummm.....apalagi yah? Oh, semoga teman saya yang saya kirimi sms tadi tidak jadi ber-prejudice terhadap saya. Ngomongin prejudice, jadi inget film "Pride &amp; Prejudice" yang menurut saya ga sebagus "Sense &amp;amp; Sensibility", kecuali pas bagian Mr. Darcy melamar Elizabeth Bennet yang sukses bikin saya tersipu2 haha...bego ah...&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/13224831-114347764740926502?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114347764740926502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114347764740926502&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114347764740926502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114347764740926502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/03/impulsif.html' title='impulsif'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114174666355630616</id><published>2006-03-07T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T07:52:16.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kalo ruwatan pake cheese cake maka...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have decided. It was the best weekend so far. It was when 5 girls from different cities (&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Jakarta&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Surabaya&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; and &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Semarang&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;) came together in the event of Java Jazz Festival. But it was more than that. Java Jazz was merely a small event in our lives. We celebrated something bigger...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We have christened ourselves (well, not yet all of us) with new names for our sexual identity. Why? Because we're sexually active with no active sexual conduct *grin*&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Who need men when we have each other? (oh, I still do)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Here are the 3 names that were given:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Malena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This is for the undeniably sexy and luscious widow in distress....err, no, i mean seductress. It is she who can make men have shortness of breath and painful desires. Her curves are to die for. Yet, she still slapped my ass and called me 'bitch'. God is fair, sister. Just leave 'em alone. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It is she who dared to admit out loud, "I need to get laid!", in the middle of our sinful trip to Bakkerzin. The way she attacked the warmly oozing chocolate in her plate is the way she dominates the world of men. She has the charms to conquer. Better yet, she has charms to conquer the entire patrilineal civilization. Believe me, darling, men suppose to fall at you feet. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Lolita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A very controversial character. Came from a novel I haven't yet able to finish, by Vladimir Nabokov. But I'll always recall the opening sentences of the novel:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;She might be small, she might be young. She seemed to be cute and naive. A nymphet, as Humbert would say. Who would've thought she's the one who talked about sexual swing in a ginger tea? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Barbarella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One dull morning, on my way back to my hometown with a train, packed with screaming kids, I distract myself by staring blankly at the passing trees and paddy fields when this name came up. Barbarella. Perfect for TGFKAB (The Girl Formerly Known As Bear). Sadly, she denied the proposition. She refused to be compared to neither Jane Fonda nor Pamela Anderson (although comparable by the size of you-know-what). But I will stand up for this choice of name. Because then she can also be appropriately nicknamed as Barbie. Before dismissing it as the biggest irony in the history of mankind, please try to imagine this. It can be a breakthrough product of Mattel: Combat Barbie. With specially designed outfit, inspired by Rambo, complete with AK-47s and large-sized combat knives. Definitely kicks ass, girl. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So, there are still two names missing. Care to fill 'em out?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114174666355630616?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114174666355630616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114174666355630616&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114174666355630616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114174666355630616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/03/kalo-ruwatan-pake-cheese-cake-maka.html' title='Kalo ruwatan pake cheese cake maka...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-114174612068719918</id><published>2006-03-07T07:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T07:44:04.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>selintas curhat</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"You think you know but you have no idea"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pertama Baby yang bilang gini, trus Wardah. Now it's my turn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I thought I knew. But I guess I don't. Another slap on my face. A wake up call.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Do I care to find out more?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I decided not to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;The truth is out there. And I don't even care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But if I changed my mind, I'll remember what Kiki told me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Pesen teh panas, bang!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-114174612068719918?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/114174612068719918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=114174612068719918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114174612068719918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/114174612068719918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/03/selintas-curhat.html' title='selintas curhat'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113932248086972668</id><published>2006-02-07T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T06:28:00.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fickle in Action!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Orang2 yang kenal saya pasti tau, saya ini paling gampang berubah pikiran, membelokkan prinsip dan mengingkari janji. Lengkap sudah. Maka itulah saya menyebut diri fickle. Fickle bukan sejenis acar. Soalnya saya nggak kecut, kecuali kalo ga mandi 2 hari. Menurut kamus, fickle itu artinya tidak tetap, tidak stabil dan sering berubah2. Sebenernya salah satu korban ke-fickle-an sayalah yang pertama kali memberikan gelar ini. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Baru2 ini penyakit saya itu kambuh. Yang pasti, akan jatuh korban baru. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Hati-hati! (suer, saya kesel denger kata2 ini yang diucapkan dengan intonasi tertentu)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Jadi, berada dekat dengan saya itu bisa diibaratkan dengan tinggal bersama panda epilepsi (kenapa panda yah?) dikebun binatang. Satu hari bisa damai makan bambu tapi besoknya ngamuk dan minta keluar dari kandang. Bisa ngebayangin? Enggak? Kalo gitu bayangin deket2 sama ikan hiu. Banyak2lah berdoa semoga kamu tidak dicaplok dan dimuntahkan kembali dalam keadaan tercabik2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Lalu kali ini apa yang membuat penyakit fickle saya kumat? Karena adanya petunjuk dari atasan yang kemudian diamati, ditimbang2 dan diputuskan bahwasanya saya memang lebih baik berubah pikiran, membelokkan prinsip dan mengingkari janji. Saya siap menerima resiko terburuk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Yang pasti, akan jatuh korban untuk kesekian kali. Habis ini saya mau mengasingkan diri ke pegunungan saja biar nggak ketemu manusia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-113932248086972668?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113932248086972668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113932248086972668&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113932248086972668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113932248086972668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2006/02/fickle-in-action.html' title='Fickle in Action!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113343004302841690</id><published>2005-12-01T01:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T01:40:43.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>packing time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I never thought packing could be this hard. I've done it many times. I went home every year. And it has always been easy. But not now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I forced myself to start packing last night. Although a part of me refused to accept that fact. My suitcase seemed so awfully small to fit all my precious things. I got panic attacks because the suitcase is practically full, and I still have more clothes and jackets. Should I left them behind?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But what concerned me more are the size of my emotional baggage and the weight of my heart. Too many things I have to leave behind. I hate saying goodbyes. I avoid those words cos I'm not good at them. I'm a firm believer that I will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; have a chance to come back to my favorite places and to see people I love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Nevertheless, I'm leaving. For good (gosh, how dreadful!).&lt;/span&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/13224831-113343004302841690?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113343004302841690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113343004302841690&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113343004302841690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113343004302841690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/12/packing-time.html' title='packing time'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113273613079206052</id><published>2005-11-23T00:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T00:55:49.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>adowh...tolong...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;saya nervous nista luar biasa. pertamanya sakit perut abis itu laper sampe krucuk2. sekarang tengah2nya makan malah mual2 pengen muntah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;mengapa oh mengapa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-113273613079206052?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113273613079206052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113273613079206052&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113273613079206052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113273613079206052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/11/adowhtolong.html' title='adowh...tolong...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113208302069786071</id><published>2005-11-15T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T11:30:20.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;" A silence with an unattractive person implies they are the boring one. A silence with an attractive one leaves you certain that it is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; who are impossibly dull. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- On Authenticity -- Alain de Botton -&lt;/span&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/13224831-113208302069786071?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113208302069786071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113208302069786071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113208302069786071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113208302069786071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/11/silence-with-unattractive-person.html' title=''/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113084325213043031</id><published>2005-11-01T02:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T03:14:04.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me And You And Everyone We Know movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/christine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/christine.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ooooohhh....people people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Saya penasaran sama filem ini nih.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.meandyoumovie.com/?referer=%2Fmeandyoumovie"&gt;Me And You And Everyone We Know&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Menang banyak award loh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Sundance, Cannes dan film2 festival laen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kayanya lucu gituh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Dan liat deh, rambut si tokoh utama ceweknya mirip saya ahahahaha.... *wink wink*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Tapi bisa nemu ini filem dimana ya??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Check out &lt;a href="http://meandyou.typepad.com/"&gt;her blog&lt;/a&gt; too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-113084325213043031?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113084325213043031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113084325213043031&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113084325213043031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113084325213043031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/11/me-and-you-and-everyone-we-know-movie.html' title='Me And You And Everyone We Know movie'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113059945586158369</id><published>2005-10-29T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T08:28:47.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this 'n that</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;1. Not going to post anything important today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;2. Someone that made me smile today, is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.havesomehats.com/"&gt; this guy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;. Interesting sketches huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;3. Currently listening to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.azureraymusic.com/"&gt;them&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.saddle-creek.com/html/mariataylor_frame.html"&gt;her&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;    " It's not a love, it's not a love, it's not a love song...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;4. Thinking about eating olives for dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;5. Wanted to go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.droogdesign.nl/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;. The marble chair was lotsa fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;6. Still curious about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.ilove11.nl/"&gt;this place&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;7. Things to do after this: sit on my red rocking chair, reading &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.confused.co.uk/"&gt;this magazine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Uh-huh. I'm enjoying life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Wish I could drink some coffee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-113059945586158369?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113059945586158369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113059945586158369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113059945586158369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113059945586158369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/this-n-that.html' title='this &apos;n that'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113040555945188206</id><published>2005-10-27T02:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T02:32:39.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kisah Puteri Petualang - part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Kisah sang Puteri Petualang dan Troll yang Kejam berlanjut! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Dengan ajian khusus dari Troll yang Kejam, yang diturunkan pada Puteri Petualang dalam sebuah sesi latihan bela diri selama 2 jam, maka Puteri Petualang sukses mendapatkan apa yang dia butuhkan. Puteri Petualang lalu merasa hebat dan tertawa terbahak2 sambil mengacak pinggang diatas Bukit Kemenangan. Hahahahaha!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Dan tampaknya, sesi latihan akan dilanjutkan pada Sabtu siang. Privat pula. Waduhh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-113040555945188206?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113040555945188206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113040555945188206&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113040555945188206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113040555945188206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/kisah-puteri-petualang-part-1.html' title='Kisah Puteri Petualang - part 1'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113015949832403522</id><published>2005-10-24T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T06:11:38.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to Myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Dear Niken, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Upon hearing the devastating verdict of your situation, it is time to take appropriate actions and set aside your personal desires. It is time to weigh every step to ensure that everything is taken care of. You are no longer eligible to opt for the shortest escape route because it has been blocked and what you have now is a more rocky and longer path. But rest assure that the path points to the right direction and safe enough for you to walk on. To avoid future road blockage that potentially results to a huge disaster, don't forget to consult the map and the guidance from the eerie troll who owns the Dark Forest. Remember, your fate is in his hands. Listen to his words or else you will get lost and unable to find a way out, which means you have to stay way longer in this shithole that you don't even want to land on in the first place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Don't forget to send messenger pigeons once in a while to keep your family informed of your situation. You cannot survive this by yourself. They can pinpoint some places in your map where you can dig out few gold coins for future trade necessities. Even though you knew very well that the treasure are better kept for the glory of the old age, you also need them to keep your path clear from unsuspected dangers, such as The Wicked Witches of IND. Be prepared for the worst situation. You may need to equip yourself with a magic wooden stick and the Book of Spells. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Don't forget to buy a new wool cape. The wind and rain in the Dark Forest is unforgiving. You might want to keep your health at its best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And for God's sake, stop crying whenever your father contacted you personally. To him, you are not a failure. Keep in mind that no matter what, you are his daughter and you have done nothing wrong to make him think otherwise. Believe him when he said that he's still proud of you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Good luck. You will need many of them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sincerely yours,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;your filthy conscience&lt;/span&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/13224831-113015949832403522?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113015949832403522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113015949832403522&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113015949832403522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113015949832403522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/letter-to-myself.html' title='Letter to Myself'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-113014134649575470</id><published>2005-10-24T01:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T01:11:02.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kata hati bisa dipercaya gak sih? (curhat teruuuusss...)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Saya benar2 sedang bingung. Rasio dan hati saya saling bicara yang bertolak belakang. Saya nggak tahu harus menuruti yang mana. Lagipula selama ini saya selalu sangsi: kata hati bisa dipercaya nggak sih?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;==================================================&lt;br /&gt;Dulu waktu saya kecil, saya yakin hati saya sering bicara dengan suara keras dan jelas. Lalu -karena rasio saya belum cukup berkembang- saya nurut sama apapun yang dikatakan hati saya. Sampai pada suatu kejadian yang sampai saat ini masih menghantui saya. Kejadian yang menyebabkan hati saya ngambek dan bungkam, mungkin untuk selama-lamanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mungkin saat itu umur saya sepuluh atau sebelas tahun. Seragam saya wana putih-biru, karena sekolah saya bukan SD negeri. Setiap waktu istirahat selama 15 menit, selalu saya habiskan dengan bermain bersama teman2 saya. Waktu itu teman saya kebanyakan perempuan. Teman laki2 saya cuma sedikit. Cuma Wisnu yang sedikit kewanitaan dan luwes, yang bapaknya satu kantor dengan bapak saya. Juga Udin yang pernah jadi teman sebangku saya, yang juga gemar bermain lompat tali. Lalu ada Adhi yang terkenal sebagai the school hunk, favorit para gadis termasuk saya *blush*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ada satu kejadian di saat istirahat sekolah, kala saya bermain &lt;em&gt;cublak-cublak suweng&lt;/em&gt; bersama Wisnu dan temen2 perempuan saya lainnya. Wisnu baru saja menebak bahwa tangan sayalah yang menggenggam batu, sehingga giliran menebak selanjutnya jatuh kepada saya. Saya duduk berlutut dan menunduk, sementara teman2 saya menyanyikan lagu &lt;em&gt;cublak-cublak suweng&lt;/em&gt; diatas punggung saya. Mata saya terpejam dan selama beberapa saat nyanyian teman2 saya terdengar menjauh. Lalu datang suara lain yang berbisik sangat dekat di telinga saya "Coba kamu tebak Rinta. Dia yang bawa batunya". Saya bingung, suara siapakah tadi? Mengapa saya harus menebak Rinta? Rasio saya mulai bekerja dan menyanggah bisikan tadi. Saya amati satu2 wajah teman2 saya. Mungkin lebih lama dari yang seharusnya. Sebagian karena saya masih memikirkan maksud bisikan tadi, sebagian karena sulit mengambil keputusan. Akhirnya pandangan saya berhenti pada teman saya bernama Dina dan itulah keputusan saya. Seketika, tawa temen2 saya pecah karena tebakan saya salah. Yang harusnya saya sebutkan adalah...Rinta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lhah, bisikan tadi bener dong? Saya terbengong2 beberapa saat sementara bel masuk kelas memecah telinga. Lalu saya jadi sadar betul bahwa sejak itu, tidak pernah ada lagi bisikan2 yang menyuarakan isi batin saya. Untuk selamanya hati saya &lt;em&gt;mutung&lt;/em&gt; dan mogok bicara.&lt;br /&gt;===================================================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sampai minggu lalu, saat situasi semakin membuat saya terjepit dan frustasi. Rasio saya mengatakan untuk mengambil langkah2 cadangan, mengantisipasi kejadian terburuk. Saya rasa semua orang yang mengerti situasi ini pasti menyarankan hal yang sama. Tapi ada sebuah bisikan lemah dari dalam sana yang mengatakan "Everything will be OK. You will be able to get what you wanted and what you have promised to your parents". Bisikan yang tadinya sangat lemah itu mulai menaikkan volumenya saat keinginan pribadi saya mulai angkat bicara. Rasio saya semakin kalah voting saja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bahkan penolakan yang terjadi pagi ini tidak membuat hati saya mengurangi &lt;em&gt;keukeuh&lt;/em&gt;-nya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya semakin pusing..&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/13224831-113014134649575470?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/113014134649575470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=113014134649575470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113014134649575470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/113014134649575470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/kata-hati-bisa-dipercaya-gak-sih.html' title='Kata hati bisa dipercaya gak sih? (curhat teruuuusss...)'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112991141613719117</id><published>2005-10-21T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T09:16:56.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hahaha...saya batal hiatus ah!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sumpah, saya kacau sekali hari ini. Pas bangun tidur rasanya desperado aja gitu. Berharap bumi runtuh dan nelen saya bulat2. Kalo perlu ga usah pake dikunyah. Buka imel, abis baca isinya langsung kepengen terjun ke laut dan tenggelem. Brapa jam kemudian, mami saya tercinta mengirim sms yang otomatis langsung bikin saya nangis bombay. Heeehhhh....sesek banget rasanya. Nangisnya aja sampe idung mampet dan terisak2 memalukan gitu. Sampe perlu dielus2 sama Ayu. Huhuhuhu...brasa kucing kali yah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Jadi ceritanya gini: saya sudah berhari2 muntap sama diri sendiri. Kesel, bete, sebel karena ga bisa terlalu banyak nyalahin orang lain. Marah besar karena ga tau kudu ngapain. Akhirnya saya cuma bisa sebentar2 nangis. Sial, sampe malu sendiri ngakuinnya. Tiap ada sms dari mami, langsung deh bersimbah air mata lagi. Puncaknya tuh pas bokap akhirnya telpon juga. Wah! Bokap sampe telpon! Ngasih2 wejangan gitu. Intinya biar saya sabar, pantang menyerah, banyak berdoa, dsb. Beliau bilang, tak ada yang memaksa saya sampai saya harus bertindak seperti ini. Dan emang bener. Saya menciptakan tekanan2 untuk diri sendiri, berharap untuk bisa meng-impress orang lain, gagal, dan akhirnya kelakuan saya jadi self-destructive begini. Walopun bapak saya itu sering bikin saya kesel gara2 beda sudut pandang akan kebanyakan masalah, sering bikin saya terintimidasi atas prestasi2 beliau, sering bikin saya sesak napas gara2 kebanyakan aturan, gimanapun juga kalo denger suara beliau yang lagi bernada sabar jadi adem juga perasaan saya. Adem2 mengharukan gitu *lagi2 nangis deh*. Beda banget kalo beliau lagi marah. Beuh, ngeri. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Eniwe, setelah browsing sana sini tanpa tujuan, saya menemukan sebuah kalimat: "Beruntunglah orang2 yang dilahirkan tapi mati muda". Katanya Gie yang bilang begitu. Huh, saya langsung setuju. Benar, saya pingin mati muda saja. Nggak perlu hidup lama2 kalo saya terus-menerus berkubang di kegagalan kaya gini. Somehow, saya itu susah sekali melihat sisi positif dari saya. *emang ada?* *tuh kan, udah negatif lagi* Padahal kalo saya lagi ngomongin jelek2nya saya sendiri, sambil dalam hati berharap juga orang bakal nanggepin "Nggak kok, Niken. Kamu kan *tambahkan kata2 pujian disini*". Nah, kalo udah gitu saya bisa lega sedikit dan tidak merasa seperti sampah dalam beberapa saat. Hah, saya memang sakit kan?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Makanya itu saya berniat untuk menghentikan segala bentuk aktifitas sosial dan menyendiri. Trus saya juga mau menjauhkan diri dari orang2 yang menyayangi dan saya sayangi. Hehehehe....saya drama queen sekali. Tapi salah sasaran banget deh. Itu dia yang bikin saya nulis mau hiatus itu. Rencana selanjutnya adalah tidak menjawab sms atau telpon sama sekali. Dilanjutkan dengan pelan2 menghilang dari peredaran supaya dilupakan orang2. Walopun belom kepikir gimana caranya. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Tapi terus saya baca lagi satu kalimat: "Orang yang kepingin mati muda itu terlalu penakut" Hah! Sial. Nancep!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Dan terus saya terlibat percakapan dengan diri saya sendiri. Dilanjutkan dengan salah satu Niken menampar Niken satunya. Plak! Abis itu dijitak balik. Pletak! Trus cekik2an gitu. Edanlah pokoknya. Niken yang menang akhirnya bilang "Emangnya yang punya masalah cuma elu? Emang ga ada orang yang masalahnya lebih gede dari elu? Ngapain pake pingin mati segala? Rugi tau! Ngapain pake pingin mengasingkan diri? Masih untung punya temen yang bersedia nolong."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Err...right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Makanya abis itu saya langsung inget bikin reservasi buat dinner di Con-Fusion. Saya mau ketemu teman2 saya yang saya cinta sepenuh hati. Saya mau ketawa2 biar ga depresi mulu. Saya juga mau sms mama-papa saya buat bilang terimakasih udah sabar ngadepin saya yang seringkali overdramatis untuk masalah sekecil apapun. Saya mau sms Revi yang sudah saya cuekin berhari2 berhubung saya malas cerita tentang masalah saya. Moga2 dia ga marah saya udah ngeselin begini. Besok2 saya kudu nelpon buat nebus dosa saya sama dia deh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Abis ini saya mau cuci muka dan siap2 ke Con-Fusion. Biarin diluar hujan dan dingin. Yang penting saya pasti bisa ngadepin masalah saya. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;They say: God put you through series of tests to make you stronger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I say: Hell, yeah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And there goes the shortest weblog hiatus in history. Hahahahaha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;P.S. I didn't scare anybody with the whole fighting scene with myself, aight? You don't have to question my sanity. I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/13224831-112991141613719117?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112991141613719117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112991141613719117&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112991141613719117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112991141613719117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/hahahasaya-batal-hiatus-ah.html' title='Hahaha...saya batal hiatus ah!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112989776232685740</id><published>2005-10-21T05:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T05:29:22.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Announcement (for those who care)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;They say: God put you through series of tests to make you stronger.&lt;br /&gt;I say: Bullshit. I'm broken all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize for being distant. But I need to be left alone and work this out by myself.&lt;br /&gt;Therefore I announce this blog to be on hiatus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&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/13224831-112989776232685740?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112989776232685740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112989776232685740&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112989776232685740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112989776232685740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/announcement-for-those-who-care.html' title='Announcement (for those who care)'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112964117559896114</id><published>2005-10-18T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T11:29:52.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A severe case of caffeine-deficiency</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;"Coffee...coffee...coffee...coffee.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind chanted repeatedly over the one thing I desperately needed at the moment. My watch was at 13.43 and my stomach was still making unidentified gurgling noises. It was probably the Unagi-Macha saga from last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have seen disaster when it stood right in front of me, even when it disguised itself as the glorious Douwe-Egberts coffee machine. But no, I couldn't think clearly without a proper dose of caffeine. Although now I realised, all of the signs have pointed to "Get your fix elsewhere".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sign no. 1: Lots of coffee spills in front of the machine.&lt;br /&gt;Sign no. 2: Three dirty cups next to the machine.&lt;br /&gt;Sign no. 3: A cup still stuck on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stupidly took out the abandoned cup, looking at its half-filled content with disgust, and place it next to the other dirty cups. Why not throw it to the garbage bin? Hey, I'm not doing public service for free here. I'm pissed and hormonally moody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I inserted my PIN card, selected 'Koffie verkeerd met suiker' and paid the goddamn 65 eurocent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Click.Prrrr......", the content poured out.&lt;br /&gt;"Clack", the cup came out.&lt;br /&gt;Hey, something's wrong. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? The cup THEN the content?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw two girls approaching and I tried to tell them about the mishap. They just raised their shoulders and decided to try anyway. Whatever. If the same thing happened to you, I would still be around to sing "I told you so.." with a silly dance and laugh at your unfortunate ass....WHAT?!?!?! the machine works now??? Me and those girls then looked at each other. Me smiled thinly and admitted "Well, I guess it was just my bad luck". Me walked away slowly, accepting defeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boo-hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without any good reason, I'm imagining re-enacments of Columbine in this campus. Too bad it's a self-study week. By the way, that demon should've told me that this is a self-study week and that he would not be available at his office. I want to kick his stupid ass right now. Or his crotch, to ensure that my demands are clear enough.&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/13224831-112964117559896114?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112964117559896114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112964117559896114&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112964117559896114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112964117559896114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/severe-case-of-caffeine-deficiency.html' title='A severe case of caffeine-deficiency'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112936648527212621</id><published>2005-10-15T01:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T01:55:21.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yippie-Yippie-Woohoo!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;OH W-O-W.&lt;br /&gt;I'm like hyper since yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;I have these goodie-goodie ideas.&lt;br /&gt;I have these yummy-yummy inspirations.&lt;br /&gt;A light bulb went on.&lt;br /&gt;Ting!&lt;br /&gt;Ahahahahaha....&lt;br /&gt;I can't even sleep.&lt;br /&gt;It's like I need to run out of the house in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;Eureka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, will I be able to do that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112936648527212621?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112936648527212621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112936648527212621&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112936648527212621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112936648527212621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/yippie-yippie-woohoo.html' title='Yippie-Yippie-Woohoo!!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112913258567990703</id><published>2005-10-12T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T09:20:03.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enjoying Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Having spent the whole yesterday feeling completely antisocial and paranoid, I decided to embrace Wednesday and enjoy the weather. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I misjudged the temperature, thinking that wind would blow a chilling breeze and droplets of rain would soak me wet. So I left the house, an hour before midday, wearing pink tanktop and cardigan ensemble, topped with black jacket. As soon as I stepped out to the sidewalk, I realised that I should wear something else, for the air would be warmer later in the afternoon. But I have no more time to spare. I didn't have enough patience to go back upstairs to change, because I would need at least another quarter of an hour deciding what to wear. It's the fact of being a girl that makes it far more difficult to accept the existing quantity of clothing, without having the urge to say "I need to renew my wardrobe". Yeah, I know it sucks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I walked quickly toward the tram stop, while constantly repressing my worried heart from thumping wildly. I was nervous and helpless. I was about to meet the Devil himself, after he resides in Wildenborch building. Bless my weak heart, help me survive in where Evil roams....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Couple of hours later, grey clouds had lifted and blown far away from my head. The meeting with the Devil had turned out to be quite good. He had decided to spare my life and maybe feed on someone else's soul instead. It was a great relief. And to celebrate, I promised myself a quick treat of bookstores trip on the way home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I went to ABC, browsing through the classic paperbacks, thinking of buying 'Sense &amp;amp; Sensibility' by Jane Austen. I was deeply enchanted by the cinematic version of the novel that I watched on TV, earlier this week. To my surprise, I might also have embraced the feeling of romance that has been alienated from myself for quite a while. I was fascinated by the silent dedication of Colonel Brandon toward Miss Marianne, although her heart had been given to another man. And the way Elinor Dashwood kept her feelings for Edward Ferrars to herself, until the day she was so relieved that he did not marry his long-time fiancee. Eventually, like any other classic love story, it ended happily. And I intended to keep it that way, while putting the book back to its shelf, for I realised the small fonts would make the reading a tedious chore and spoil all imaginations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The sun was still high when I decided to head back home. Instead of secretly counting my steps from tram stops to the front door like I used to, I looked at the canal where three old man is fishing and laughing freely at each other's jokes. On the buckets they brought along, there were several small fishes that didn't seem to be edible at all. Yet, the old men didn't bother to the fact that they would not enjoy them as dinner. There were at least 10 white swans floating idly on the calm water and made me thought they were made of plastic. Small boats were parked at both sides of the canal walls, covered with fallen leaves to celebrate the arrival of autumn. I knew that this is what I would miss the most from Amsterdam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Then I remembered, I need to go back home as soon as possible. No, I don't mean the house I currently stay in. I mean home, far away from here. Where the seasons cannot be romanticized. Because flowers bloom and leaves become yellow all year round, despite the name of the month. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Suddenly, I can't figure out what I'm feeling.      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112913258567990703?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112913258567990703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112913258567990703&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112913258567990703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112913258567990703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/enjoying-wednesday.html' title='Enjoying Wednesday'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112844393646507573</id><published>2005-10-04T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T09:56:02.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>psst...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1140011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 135px; height: 215px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1140011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1140003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 185px; height: 195px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1140003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1140004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 154px; height: 209px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1140004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1140005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 145px; height: 234px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1140005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1140006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 188px; height: 230px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1140006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1140009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 127px; height: 224px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1140009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1140010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 116px; height: 181px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1140010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;psst.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;okay, so here's the deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I know some people  -who prefers to stay anonymous- who made those stuff. They are one-of-a-kind, hand-made brooches and hairpin. If you want them, you can buy them. For more info, send ur e-mail to me: niken2506@yahoo.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Prettige dag verder :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/13224831-112844393646507573?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112844393646507573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112844393646507573&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112844393646507573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112844393646507573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/psst.html' title='psst...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112818642533875315</id><published>2005-10-01T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T10:09:16.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Quirky</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I think it's because of my new haircut. I do feel somewhat more cheery, happy and silly. I wasn't expecting to have a big change of mood, just because I have a new haircut. But I do realize that my new look goes better with a smile. Despite problem I'm currently having, that sometimes bring me down to tears, I do not dwell too long in depression. Which is certainly a good thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Anyway, my friend told me about the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quirkyalone&lt;/span&gt;. And it turned out to be very interesting. Right now, I feel that I'm also a quirkyalone. Umm no, the quiz result says that I'm a quirkytogether type. But I do agree with their point of views. Member of quirkyalones might seem to be mostly single. But that doesn't make them desperate in finding love, as in joining blind dates and such. They wait until the right person comes along, maybe a fellow quirkyalones. They even have an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;International Quirkyalone Day&lt;/span&gt; which coincides with Valentine's Day. Same as Valentine's day, IQD also celebrates love, but in a different way. It's a celebration of all kinds of love, especially self-love. Hey, couples can also celebrate IQD. They say it's a reminder to value individuality even when in a couple. I think the descriptions of quirkyalone just suits me well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Read more about &lt;a href="http://quirkyalone.net/qa/index.php"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quirkyalone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. And don't forget to try &lt;a href="http://quirkyalone.net/qa/quiz.php"&gt;the quiz&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Oh, and I also fall completely in love with &lt;a href="http://gaijingeisha.com/kanzashi.htm"&gt;the cute and absolutely gorgeous kanzashis&lt;/a&gt;. Now that I have a short hair, I want to have lots of hairclips and barrettes. I guess I'm in the mood of creating one myself, right after I read a &lt;a href="http://www.craftster.org/forum/index.php?topic=24944.0"&gt;tutorial of making a folded fabric flower hairclip&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My current wish: learn how to use a sewing machine. It's so fun to be able to customize your old stuff into something new and interesting. I'm inspired by this &lt;a href="http://www.craftster.org/forum/index.php?topic=41274.0"&gt;shirt and skirt combo&lt;/a&gt;. And check this out. &lt;a href="http://www.lekkner.com/"&gt;Customize your old t-shirts!&lt;/a&gt; That should be fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Right now, I want to scream&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt; "HOORAY!!"&lt;/span&gt; with no particular reason. Weird, eh?  &lt;/span&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/13224831-112818642533875315?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112818642533875315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112818642533875315&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112818642533875315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112818642533875315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/10/being-quirky.html' title='Being Quirky'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112740796731789593</id><published>2005-09-22T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T09:52:47.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sapa bilang komik kudu lucu hah?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/komikdespe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/komikdespe.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;HaHa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Not funny...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112740796731789593?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112740796731789593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112740796731789593&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112740796731789593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112740796731789593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/sapa-bilang-komik-kudu-lucu-hah.html' title='sapa bilang komik kudu lucu hah?!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112715478640707157</id><published>2005-09-19T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T11:33:06.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids, don't try this at home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So here's the situation. I was hungry. I needed to chew on something. I was too lazy to get out of the house to buy food. I already had sandwich for breakfast and instant noodle for lunch. Not to mention loads of potato chips and chocolate wafers in between. Therefore, I need a more solid food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;But I was too lazy to cook 'real' food. I mean, a meal that needs tedious preparation and more than one pan. I have to put this evil-genius mind to work. Real hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Finally I came up with a recipe called "The Ultimate Lazy-Assed TV Dinner". It was brilliant *in a sarcastic way*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The Ultimate Lazy-Assed TV Dinner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Some potatoes (peel them if you like, but I just slice them and it turned out okay)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Leftover broccoli (Probably bought almost 2 weeks ago. Still green? Don't ask). Chop them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Half of a red paprika (I already used half of it for my salad, two days ago). Cut to small dice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Small can of tuna &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Small can of red beans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;One medium-sized onion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Worchestershire sauce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Salt and pepper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Butter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;How to cook:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;1. Melt the butter in a pan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;2. Fry the onion in it until soft&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;3. Add the sliced potatoes, season with salt, pepper and worchestershire sauce. Close the pan and leave them until the potatoes become soft.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;4. Add some water, if necessary. Use your instincts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;5. When the potatoes is soft, it's time to put in the rest of the ingredients.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;6. Stir, stare, whatever. Just make sure it's well-cooked before you eat it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;7. Spoon some of this deadly concoction to a plate and munch them while watching 'Sex and The City' rerun on TV. You can forget about having orgasms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So what did you have for dinner?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/13224831-112715478640707157?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112715478640707157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112715478640707157&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112715478640707157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112715478640707157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/kids-dont-try-this-at-home.html' title='Kids, don&apos;t try this at home'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112703192033799462</id><published>2005-09-18T01:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:25:22.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's The Cure</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/cure_smith.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/cure_smith.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;My neighbor looked like Robert Smith of The Cure. Same haircut. And so pale. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;His last name is Hassani. I thought Hassani was a Turkish family with lots of children.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112703192033799462?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112703192033799462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112703192033799462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112703192033799462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112703192033799462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/its-cure.html' title='It&apos;s The Cure'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112698925190531087</id><published>2005-09-17T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T13:35:36.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the road</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/Untitled_Page1_%209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/Untitled_Page1_%209.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;is dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;. run .&lt;/span&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/13224831-112698925190531087?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112698925190531087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112698925190531087&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112698925190531087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112698925190531087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/road.html' title='the road'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112698678068057422</id><published>2005-09-17T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T12:53:00.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The BFG</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/Untitled_Page1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/Untitled_Page1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;" &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I is the only nice and jumbly Giant in Giant Country! I is THE BIG FRIENDLY GIANT! I is the BFG&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The BFG - Roald Dahl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Pengen baca bukunya Roald Dahl lagi deh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112698678068057422?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112698678068057422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112698678068057422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112698678068057422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112698678068057422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/bfg.html' title='The BFG'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112681500865252049</id><published>2005-09-15T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T13:56:52.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tunatun, King of Tuna Fish</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sedari tadi, apa yang saya kerjakan di depan laptop? Tidak jelas. Tidak bisa dibilang produktif ataupun menciptakan sesuatu yang berarti. Saya kembali dilanda kebosanan luar biasa. Bukan karena saya tidak punya sesuatu apapun yang perlu dikerjakan. Saya masih punya skripsi yang tinggal beberapa halaman lagi selesai. Saya masih punya ujian cisco minggu depan. Tapi saya memilih - ya, saya memilih - untuk menelantarkan itu semua dan merasa bosan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Seperti biasa, saya online di Yahoo dan MSN Messenger. Tak banyak yang bisa saya ajak bicara. Akhirnya saya cuma mengobrol dengan satu teman dari Semarang. *thanks a lot buat Kartun yang sudah rela menemani* Saya rasa sih obrolan kami lebih banyak berisi omongan2 saya yang menyebalkan. Atau mungkin cuma saya yang merasa begitu, saya tak tahu. Maaf, kepercayaan diri saya sedang jatuh ke jurang yang lumayan dalam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Di akhir obrolan kami, dia mengatakan bahwa dia menyukai tulisan2 saya di blog ini *ah, yang bener?* dan mengusulkan saya untuk menulis novel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Waduh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Perlu diketahui bahwa cita2 rahasia saya adalah: menulis novel, menjadi fotografer freelance, freelance fashion stylist dan pelukis dengan media cat air.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nah, sekarang cita2 itu bukan rahasia lagi. Tapi jalan menuju kesana sangatlah jauh. Pertama, saya tak punya skill untuk menjadi penulis. Dua, saya masih harus belajar sangat banyak untuk menjadi fotografer dan perlu uang untuk memiliki kamera yang bagus. Tiga, fashion sense saya sangatlah tidak pantas untuk menjadi stylist. Empat, saya dan seni atau keterampilan tangan bukan gabungan yang baik sejak dulu. Saya sejak SD selalu meminta tolong ibu untuk mengerjakan tugas seni rupa dan menangis bombay ketika diberi tugas membuat bunga mawar dari tali rafia. Ah, bunga mawar dari tali rafia. Ingatan tentang itu sedikit buram karena penglihatan saya waktu itu sangat kabur oleh genangan air mata. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Seusai mengobrol dengan teman saya tadi, lapar datang kembali. Jadi saya ke dapur dan mengambil panci untuk merebus air dan memasak mi instan. Lagi-lagi saya kepikiran soal menulis novel (atau apa kek gitu, cerpen and such). Tapi yang mau ditulis itu apa? Ide tak punya. Kurang observatif dan cenderung cuek dengan keadaan sekitar. Tidak punya opini terhadap isu2 yang ada di masyarakat. Kurang mengikuti perkembangan berita dunia luar. Lalu saya menatap panci yang sedang saya pegang. Saya ingat sore tadi panci ini saya gunakan untuk memukul paku payung ketika memasang tirai kamar mandi pada rak buku yang dijadikan lemari pakaian. Bisa membayangkan? Sedikit absurd memang. Apa itu bisa saya jadikan bahan menulis novel? Nampaknya tidak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ketika tangan saya meraih ke dalam lemari dapur yang letaknya cukup tinggi sehingga perlu berjinjit untuk mengambil bungkusan mi instan, kepala saya nyaris kejatuhan sekaleng ikan tuna. Hm, jadi terbayang seandainya saya benar2 kejatuhan kaleng ikan tuna lalu koma dan terbangun di alam yang berbeda? Mungkin alam bawah laut yang penuh ikan tuna yang kemudian dijaring para nelayan untuk dibawa ke pengalengan ikan dan saya ikut didalamnya. Lalu sayapun memulai serentetan tindakan heroik untuk menyelamatkan Tunatun, raja ikan tuna yang terancam nyawanya setelah membuat perjanjian maut dengan kepala desa nelayan. Dan ternyata kepala desa nelayan memang seorang lelaki berhati busuk, tega membuang darah dagingnya sendiri demi kekayaan pribadi karena anak tersebut dijadikan sesaji sebelum mendirikan pabrik pengalengan ikan tuna yang sukses dan terkenal seantero jagat. Tebak siapa anak kepala desa nelayan itu? Saya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Bwahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;That was the lamest idea ever. Remind me not to elaborate it into anything. Ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112681500865252049?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112681500865252049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112681500865252049&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112681500865252049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112681500865252049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/tunatun-king-of-tuna-fish.html' title='Tunatun, King of Tuna Fish'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112657186037387219</id><published>2005-09-12T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T17:41:49.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>songs i listen to at 2AM</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Damn, I can't sleep. I wanted to finish up my individual project but my brains wouldn't comply anymore. But I can't seem to close my eyes either. In my zombie-like state, these are what I'm currently listening to..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. This Love - The Cocteau Twins (Cruel Intentions Soundtrack)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2. Cherry Colored Funk - The Cocteau Twins &amp; Robert Smith&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. The Onliest - Feist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;4. Teardrops - Massive Attack feat Elizabeth Fraser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5. Intuition - Feist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6. Semu - Homogenic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;7. La Sirena - Feist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;8. Mindless - Homogenic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;9. Know Who You Are At Every Age - The Cocteau Twins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;10. Faithful Dreams - Homogenic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;11. Falling From Grace - Club 8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;12. Tell Me - Wax Poetic feat Norah Jones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;13. Bells Ring - Mazzy Star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;14. The Eastern Shore - Feist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;15. Angels - Wax Poetic feat Norah Jones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;16. Mary Of Silence - Mazzy Star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;17. Five String Serenade - Mazzy Star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;18. Six Underground - Sneaker Pimps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;19. Black Cherry - Goldfrapp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;20. Paperbag - Goldfrapp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;21. Pilots - Goldfrapp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;22. Lies and Alibis - Lovage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;23. Hope, Meanness &amp;amp; Decision - Homogenic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;24. Evangeline - The Cocteau Twins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;25. Theft, And Wandering Around Lost - The Cocteau Twins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;26. Oil of Angels - The Cocteau Twins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;27. Essence - The Cocteau Twins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;28. Let's Get Lost - Elliot Smith&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;29. Pink Moon - Nick Drake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;30. Things Behind The Sun - Nick Drake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;By the time I went through songs that belong to dead musicians, I know I should've stop. Even the most depressing sounds can't seem to get me to sleep. What's wrong with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112657186037387219?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112657186037387219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112657186037387219&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112657186037387219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112657186037387219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/songs-i-listen-to-at-2am.html' title='songs i listen to at 2AM'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112638485025039952</id><published>2005-09-10T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T01:04:15.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pearls around my neck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/Untitled_Page3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/Untitled_Page3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;you have failed to understand&lt;br /&gt;layers upon layers of constellations&lt;br /&gt;underneath the teardrop pearls&lt;br /&gt;i wore around my neck&lt;br /&gt;you said they shine so bright&lt;br /&gt;that you became blinded&lt;br /&gt;but you must be wrong&lt;br /&gt;'cos the stars on my constellations&lt;br /&gt;have been dead for too long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/13224831-112638485025039952?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112638485025039952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112638485025039952&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112638485025039952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112638485025039952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/pearls-around-my-neck.html' title='pearls around my neck'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112617371979138284</id><published>2005-09-08T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T03:14:34.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i have a thing for geeks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;it's true and official.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;proof:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/hedernotdead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/hedernotdead.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Jon Heder as Napoleon Dynamite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Isn't he cute?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh, I also think Dave Grohl is adorable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/davegrohlap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/davegrohlap.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And look at Omar's glasses. Gemes deh. *note: not to be mistaken with the one we know from Renee  :p *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/marsvolta_stor1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/marsvolta_stor1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Agree with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;mwahahahahahahahhaa....... :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112617371979138284?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112617371979138284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112617371979138284&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112617371979138284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112617371979138284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-have-thing-for-geeks.html' title='i have a thing for geeks'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112609537072061716</id><published>2005-09-07T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-07T05:22:39.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when i'm among the weak-hearted</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Whenever I listen to Death Cab for Cutie, I felt immidiately weak. My hand trembled. My body shivered. I was brought down to my knees and wept. Somehow the songs are always heart-warming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Starting from my all-time favorite, A Lack of Color&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is fact not fiction for the first time in years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All the girls in every girlie magazine can't make me feel any less alone,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm reaching for the phone to call at 7:03 and on your machine,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I slur a plea for you to come home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But I know it's too late, and I should have given you a reason to stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Or when Ben Gibbard sang about breaking up with his love-ones, he starts with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The glove compartment is inaccurately named,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And everybody knows it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So I'm proposing a swift orderly change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And all I find are souvenirs from better times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Before the gleam of your taillights fading east,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;To find yourself a better life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Or when he promises that he will always stay no matter what&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Love of mine some day you will die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But I'll be close behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'll follow you into the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just our hands clasped so tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Waiting for the hint of a spark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;If heaven and hell decide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;That they both are satisfied&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And then he became a heartbreaker and felt sorry for it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I once knew a girl in the years of my youth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;With eyes like the summer of beauty and truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But in the morning I fled; left a note and it read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You’ll be loved, you’ll be loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Like you never have known&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And the memories of me will seem more like bad dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just a series of blurs like I never occurred&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Someday you will be loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I can sense the calmness of driving in the car with someone I love when he sings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I roll the window down and then begin to breathe in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;the darkest country road and the strong scent of evergreen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;from the passenger seat as you are driving me home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Then looking upwards I strained my eyes and try to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;from the passenger seat as you are driving me home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Do they collide? I ask and you smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;With my feet on the dash, the world doesn't matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When you need directions then I'll be the guide for all time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;for all time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;To me their songs are simply beautiful. As I fell in love with their lyrics too. How on earth can they write such songs? I wonder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Anyways, they have a new album called Plans. And I've been listening to that album continuously today. Highly recommended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112609537072061716?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112609537072061716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112609537072061716&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112609537072061716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112609537072061716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/when-im-among-weak-hearted.html' title='when i&apos;m among the weak-hearted'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112581425090804147</id><published>2005-09-03T23:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-03T23:13:55.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sialan kau, KT!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Last night, at KT Tunstall's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;KT: So tell me, is there anybody in the audience that is stupid enough to have a long distance relationship?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;KT: Foolish!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sialan kau, KT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And then you play my favorite song....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sialan kau, KT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Other Side of the World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre   style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:verdana;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Over the sea and far away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;She's waiting like an iceberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Waiting to change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But she's cold inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;She wants to be like the water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;All the muscles tighten in her face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Buries her soul in one embrace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They're one and the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Just like water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The fire fades away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Most of every day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Is full of tired excuses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But it's too hard to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I wish it were simple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But we give up easily&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're close enough to see that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're the otherside of the world to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;On comes the panic light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Holding on with fingers and feelings alike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But the time has come&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;To move along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The fire fades away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Most of every day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Is full of tired excuses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But it's too hard to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I wish it were simple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But we give up easily&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're close enough to see that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're the otherside of the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Can you help me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Can you let me go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And can you still love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When you can't see me anymore?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The fire fades away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Most of every day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Is full of tired excuses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But it's too hard to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I wish it were simple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But we give up easily&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're close enough to see that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're the otherside of the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The otherside of the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're the otherside of the world to me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112581425090804147?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112581425090804147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112581425090804147&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112581425090804147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112581425090804147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/sialan-kau-kt.html' title='sialan kau, KT!!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112560486394712556</id><published>2005-09-01T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T02:07:23.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bittersweet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/Untitled_Page4_%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/Untitled_Page4_%203.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;satu sore yang tertampung dalam gelas kaca&lt;br /&gt;dihiasi bunga dan payung kecil warnawarni&lt;br /&gt;seperti cocktail pahit campur manis&lt;br /&gt;yang kita hirup sambil mandi matahari&lt;br /&gt;saat kita bicara tentang lelaki&lt;br /&gt;yang membawa pergi secuil harap&lt;br /&gt;dan tak pernah kembali&lt;br /&gt;lalu kita terbahak&lt;br /&gt;sambil memasang topeng&lt;br /&gt;senyum&lt;br /&gt;ceria&lt;br /&gt;bahagia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;aku benarbenar mencintainya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;sampai mati?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ya, sampai mati&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;begitu pula aku&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;baiklah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;baiklah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112560486394712556?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112560486394712556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112560486394712556&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112560486394712556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112560486394712556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/bittersweet.html' title='bittersweet'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112560055139780253</id><published>2005-09-01T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T11:49:11.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bangun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/Untitled_Page4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/Untitled_Page4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;bangun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;secangkir kopi panas yang sedari tadi menanti&lt;br /&gt;menguap bersama percakapan semalam&lt;br /&gt;saat menyusuri jembatan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;yang merentang jauh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;dari dalam ingatanku&lt;br /&gt;menuju mimpi indahmu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;biar kutinggalkan tempat tidurku acakacakan&lt;br /&gt;agar kau tahu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;aku masih&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;menunggu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/13224831-112560055139780253?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112560055139780253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112560055139780253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112560055139780253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112560055139780253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/bangun.html' title='bangun!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112557018351611562</id><published>2005-09-01T03:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T03:23:03.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mungkin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/1600/P2180035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5530/108/320/P2180035.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;mungkin suatu hari kau akan mampir&lt;br /&gt;lalu kutunjukkan jejak kaki para pendahulumu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mungkin suatu masa kapalmu akan berlabuh&lt;br /&gt;pada dermaga yang kami bangun&lt;br /&gt;dari gundukan pasir dan untaian ganggang laut&lt;br /&gt;tak dapatkah kau lihat lewat ujung teropongmu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*picture stolen from my brother's trip with his friends to a beach in Jogjakarta area*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/13224831-112557018351611562?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112557018351611562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112557018351611562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112557018351611562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112557018351611562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/09/mungkin.html' title='mungkin'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112550751248104169</id><published>2005-08-31T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T09:58:32.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the fear that comes with friendster</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Gosh, i feel that the world is getting smaller. Umh, no. The web of my friends are getting smaller. And it feels weirder every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just today I made 2 discoveries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An acquaintance from highschool who started contacting me for his plans on studying in the Netherlands, appeared to have a prior *perhaps romatically or platonically* relationship with a friend of mine in the Netherlands who was not originally from my hometown. Where do they met? I don't know. When did they have this relationship? No idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend is currently staying over at the residence of my longtime friend that I haven't seen for 8 years because his sister and her are friends. Haven't I mentioned that my friend's sister also know a guy I used to date?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Friendster, I became more aware of people who know people who know people I know. And sometimes they know people who know people who is related to people who has a relationship with people who know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a headache right now. This is getting scary. Should I quit Friendster?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112550751248104169?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112550751248104169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112550751248104169&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112550751248104169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112550751248104169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/08/fear-that-comes-with-friendster.html' title='the fear that comes with friendster'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112543952851660759</id><published>2005-08-30T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T15:05:28.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anjing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Lho, saya bukannya mengumpat. Saya cuma mau bilang kalau hari ini saya melihat binatang piaraan jenis ini berkeliaran bersama pemiliknya dimana-mana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biasanya juga memang banyak sih. Tapi biasanya saya tidak peduli setan dengan mereka. Lha wong memang banyak yang punya anjing disini. Kemana2 dibawa. Mau pagi, siang, sore, atau malam; pasti ada saja yang membawa anjingnya jalan-jalan. Saya sih nggak ngerti nama2 jenis mereka. Yang saya tau, anjing cuma bisa dibedakan jadi 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Anjing sopan yang pemiliknya tau diri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anjing jenis ini tau bahwa dia tidak bisa buang hajat disembarang tempat (misal: di trotoar tempat orang2 awam berjalan kaki) karena sudah di-training oleh pemiliknya untuk menahan kebelet. Kalau perlu dengan cara menyilang kaki belakang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, kalo nahan kebelet pake nyilang kaki itu saya ding. Kalo anjing gimana yah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Anjing kurang ajar yang pemiliknya lebih sialan lagi dari piaraannya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ini dia nih anjing yang suka ninggalin 'ranjau darat' dimana2. Merekalah yang membuat 'shoegazing' (shoegazing = memandangi sepatu?) menjadi sebuah tren karena orang2 terpaksa awas pada apa yang bakal mereka injak. Or was it My Bloody Valentine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eniwe, seharian ini saya melihat beberapa jenis anjing. Dari yang jantan sampai betina. Dari yang brunette sampai dumb blonde. Dari yang langsing sampai overweight. Dari yang berkaki jenjang sampai padat mampat. Wait, saya ini ngomongin anjing apa pemiliknya ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puncaknya, disebuah toko dikawasan Nieuwendijk, seorang customer toko yang saya masuki membawa anjing kecil mungil yang kemungkinan berjenis chihuahua dan membuat saya sangat ingin menendangnya. Menendangnya! Right between its balls! Itu kalo kaki saya tidak meleset kena perutnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya ini punya dendam apa sih sama binatang? Nggak tau deh. Yang jelas anjing itu terus menerus mengelilingi kaki saya, membuat hati saya makin panas. Sampai2 Rini harus menenangkan dan mengingatkan saya untuk bisa mengontrol diri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Untungnya saya masih bisa. Walaupun saya semakin teringat pada Paris Hilton yang juga punya anjing serupa. Mungkin sebenarnya yang pingin saya tendang itu si Paris?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh iya, saya juga selalu pingin menendang burung dara yang sering terbang rendah nyaris menerjang orang2 dan menebar teror bersama semburan kotorannya yang sembarangan. But that's a whole other story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya kok penuh kekerasan begini? Kemanakah Niken yang lembut hati dan penyayang? (cuih..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112543952851660759?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112543952851660759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112543952851660759&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112543952851660759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112543952851660759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/08/anjing.html' title='Anjing!'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112516693800790634</id><published>2005-08-27T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T11:40:44.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wahai teman, saya seorang pecandu</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And I am addicted to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;heart-break and misery&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenapa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soalnya lebih enak menghayati lagu2 putus cinta dan cinta tak terbalas.&lt;br /&gt;Makanya juga kemaren pas di Indonesia jadi demen nonton infotainment. Soalnya selebriti lagi tren menggugat cerai their significant other. Apalagi Rhoma Irama-Angel Lelga. Setelah akhirnya mengakui status hubungan mereka yang sebenarnya, langsung mengumumkan cerai. Telak. Ouch. Pedih. Cihui. Nikmat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...what are you addicted to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112516693800790634?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112516693800790634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112516693800790634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112516693800790634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112516693800790634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/08/wahai-teman-saya-seorang-pecandu.html' title='Wahai teman, saya seorang pecandu'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112494901616522452</id><published>2005-08-24T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T22:52:47.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Literati Melancholia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Written on August 10, 2005&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love books. No doubt about it. I guess it all started a long time ago. My parents had bought me lots and lots of books since I started to learn reading. Bedtime stories, science books, encyclopedias, etc. I wasn't so much of a fan of comic books, though. I remembered that my mom used to hesitate so much when I wanted to buy Japanese comics. As a result, I grew up with a huge fascination toward Willy Wonka, rather than Doraemon or CandyCandy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I crave for bookstores almost all the time. I can spend hours and hours in them. Sometimes I ended up buying some; sometimes I walked out empty handed. But every single time I went out from a bookstore, sparkles of joy illuminated my heart. The colors of the book covers, oh they spread across the store and on the shelves! And the weight of hardcover books, they grew heavier in my heart as I tried not to buy them. &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Although most of the time I went to bookstores that sell new books, I also like to browse through used or secondhand books. It has a whole different experience. I always pretend that I'm up for a treasure hunt. Used bookstores usuallly have dull atmosphere in it. They're covered with dust and brownish color. They're filled with books published from when my grandmother hasn't even born yet. I paid my respect by opening the pages carefully, hoping not to cause any visible damages.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My most memorable book: The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was strolling down canals on the side of Westerkerk and Anne Frank Huis when I suddenly have the urge to turn right. I can't remember the name of the street, as always. There's a small secondhand bookstore, which name has forever lost beneath useless memories inside my brain. I do remember that the bookstore is as dull and as brown as a secondhand bookstore should be. The entire store was crowded with high bookshelves that stretched from wall to wall. I decided to browse through novels and roman section. Few books caught my eye and one of them is this book by Milan Kundera. I had heard that this writer received a literary Nobel Prize. I thought this book might be interesting. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It is interesting, indeed.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It was not the story or the plot or the characters that impressed me. It was the comments that were scribbled with pencil and pen on some of the pages, by the previous owner of this book. The book was bought on &lt;st1:date year="1986" day="2" month="2"&gt;February 2nd, 1986&lt;/st1:date&gt;. I found out that the previous owner didn't read it directly after he bought it. As it was stated on the last page:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Halverwege het lezen van Proust 'Jean Santeuil', dit boek ertussendoor gelezen in 3 dagen. Tranen met tuiten gehuild over Karenin's dood, verder erg onder de indruk van dit boek. Febr. 18 - 1986 R"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Translation: Halfway through reading Proust 'Jean Santeuil', this book was read in 3 days. Cried tears and sobbed over Karenin's death, moreover very impressed by this book.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I started imagining this &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;R&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; guy. He must be well-educated, because he was reading Proust and able to finish Kundera's book in 3 days. He must be an animal lover, or at least a dog lover. Or maybe he had a dog once. And the story of Karenin's death has reminded him about his dog. He must be a very sensitive and tender-loving man, because he can express his feeling and cry while reading this book.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On page 120, he put a line under the sentence &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"And so within an amazingly short period, the backdrop of his life has changed completely"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; and commented:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dit gevoel ken ik heel goed! Een heerlijke vrijheid! (I know this feeling very well! A wonderful freedom!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ah, he must have been in a serious relationship. Perhaps marriage. And it failed. And everything changes completely in a short period. And the passage in the novel liberated him. It's a good thing that he can feel that happy about it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Another scribble was found on page 222, under the line &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"...we are not granted a second, third or fourth life in which to compare various decisions.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; It says:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Well, I am (have)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hm..what did he mean by that? Has he been in several near-death experiences, escape from it and tried to mend the broken pieces of his life? Maybe he loved death-defying and dangerous sport. Maybe he had a serious illness that threatened his life. Maybe he was a drug addict and went OD several times. Maybe he lost the most precious person in his life and felt completely numb and dead. After his first 'death', he must have tried a lot of things to fix things up. I had imagined a lot of things; I started to build a vivid imagery of this &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;R &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;character, rather than the characters of the book. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;First of all, I had imagined &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;R&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; as a man, instead of a woman. &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know. I supposed &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;R &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;is more charming as a man.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The book itself wasn't so bad. Not the kind that I would usually enjoy, though. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The last thing &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;R &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;scribbled in the book was &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Voor de 2de maal gelezen - het is en blijft een heel ongewoon (levenswijs) vreemd - ontroerend boek. 8-06-1991 R"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Translation: Read (this book) for the second time - it is and always will be a very unusual (lifewise) strange - heart-warming book.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now I wonder, why did he sell the book? If he was truly impressed by this book, he would've kept it with him forever. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Finally, it dawned to me. Perhaps &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;R &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;had finally....died. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;R, may you rest in peace.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hah, me and my wild imaginations…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;PS. Forgive my awful translations. They might not be correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112494901616522452?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112494901616522452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112494901616522452&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112494901616522452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112494901616522452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/08/literati-melancholia.html' title='Literati Melancholia'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112115786621955352</id><published>2005-07-12T01:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T10:51:02.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Biarin ah...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Niken lagi cheesy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Niken lagi cemen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Niken lagi pengen nyanyi2.&lt;br /&gt;And this is my....umm....15th round of this song, this morning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Perfect&lt;br /&gt;The Smashing Pumpkins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we're just like old friends &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; We just can't pretend &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; That lovers make amends &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; We are reasons so unreal &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; We can't help but feel that something has been lost &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; But please you know you're just like me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Next time I promise we'll be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Perfect &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Perfect &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Perfect strangers down the line &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Lovers out of time &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Memories unwind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; So far I still know who you are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; But now I wonder who I was... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Angel, you know it's not the end &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; We'll always be good friends &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; The letters have been sent on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; So please, you always were so free &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; You'll see, I promise we'll be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Perfect &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Perfect strangers when we meet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Strangers on the street &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Lovers while we sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Perfect &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; You know this has to be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; We always we're so free &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; We promised that we'd be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Perfect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I love Billy Corgan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Only when he's with The Smashing Pumpkins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tidak pada saat bareng Zwan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tidak pada saat dia ber-solo karir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Walaupun album barunya -The Future Embrace- udah keluar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Denger2 The Smashing Pumpkins mau reuni?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Apa cuma gosip belaka?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Billy, kamu tidak lagi jenius tanpa James Iha, D'Arcy dan Jimmy Chamberlin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Kalian jadi reuni aja yah.&lt;br /&gt;Saya kangen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112115786621955352?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112115786621955352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112115786621955352&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112115786621955352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112115786621955352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/07/biarin-ah.html' title='Biarin ah...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112054961132209881</id><published>2005-07-05T00:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T00:56:23.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bye train...bye station...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Counting my last days with NS. I should pay a tribute for them. And maybe I should get more pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for getting me to school on time. Thank you for helping me escape for a while.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for delivering me to my dear friends.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for keeping safe and warm in the middle of a snowfall on my way to get my verblijfsaantekening in Zwolle.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;- I'm getting too emotional and sentimental lately -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/Untitled_Page2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 164px; height: 226px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/Untitled_Page2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/Untitled_Page2_%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 163px; height: 221px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/Untitled_Page2_%203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/Untitled_Page13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 168px; height: 222px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/Untitled_Page13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/Untitled_Page1_%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px; width: 169px; height: 226px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/Untitled_Page1_%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;bye train...bye station...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112054961132209881?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112054961132209881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112054961132209881&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112054961132209881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112054961132209881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/07/bye-trainbye-station.html' title='bye train...bye station...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112042446892123624</id><published>2005-07-03T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T14:08:03.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm (not) a survivor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Do you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When a big explosion takes place, you won't even realize that you're in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You won't realize that after that big loud bang, you have lost a part of your right leg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Or a piece of your forehead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;All you know, you were just happened to be standing on that sidewalk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You were just happened to be stopping by to check out that cute guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After that very loud sound, suddenly came a sharp sting all over your body&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And in a very slow motion, smoke covered everything around you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Like dandelions you blew when you had those picnics at the park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And the smell....oh the smell...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's like a cheap barbeque in a junkyard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Everything smell burnt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Burnt rubber. Burnt metal. Burnt leather. Burnt flesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When you finally came back to your senses and you tried to move away,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;you know your whole body have crumbled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You know you weren't in the same spot you were standing before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Perhaps a few metres away, lying face down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then you know that it's too late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You saw something in front of you and thought "hey, isn't that my Swatch on that arm?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In a second you're able to confirmed "Oh yeah, it is mine"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;By then you wished you've smashed your alarm this morning and never left your bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Because now all your wish of dying peacefully would be gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Carried away by thick cloud of smoke and ashy debris&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You wanted to scream that this whole thing is none of your business, but nothing came out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;That you're just an innocent bystander&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A collateral damage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;How ironic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yet it happened&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And you have to bear the pain inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And outside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And on that left arm that lies 2 feet in front of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Can anybody make the pain go away?&lt;/span&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/13224831-112042446892123624?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112042446892123624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112042446892123624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112042446892123624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112042446892123624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-not-survivor.html' title='I&apos;m (not) a survivor'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112039575242694104</id><published>2005-07-03T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T06:02:32.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ralat, ini bukan hari minggu yang indah.&lt;br /&gt;Saya tak sabar untuk segera pergi dari rumah ini.&lt;br /&gt;Keadaannya semakin mirip satu ton dinamit yang sumbunya sewaktu-waktu siap disulut.&lt;br /&gt;Bila memang terjadi, saya akan berakhir sebagai collateral damage.&lt;br /&gt;Tragis bukan?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Update: beberapa menit yang lalu, ledakan sudah terjadi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112039575242694104?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112039575242694104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112039575242694104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112039575242694104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112039575242694104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/07/blog-post.html' title='....'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112039426112375719</id><published>2005-07-03T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T05:39:36.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Heart Belongs to Daddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;While tearing off a game of golf,&lt;br /&gt;I may make a play for the caddy,&lt;br /&gt;but when I do, I don't follow through&lt;br /&gt;'cause my heart belongs to daddy.&lt;br /&gt;If I invite a boy some night to dine on my fine finnan haddie,&lt;br /&gt;I just adore his asking for more, but,&lt;br /&gt;my heart belongs to daddy.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my heart belongs to daddy, so I simply couldn't be bad.&lt;br /&gt;Yes my heart belongs to daddy.&lt;br /&gt;So I want to warn you laddie,&lt;br /&gt;though I know that you're perfectly swell,&lt;br /&gt;that my heart belongs to daddy cause my daddy he treats it so well.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Menikmati minggu pagi sambil mendengarkan Lisa Ekdahl menyanyikan lagu lama milik Marilyn Monroe yang judulnya "&lt;em&gt;My Heart Belongs to Daddy&lt;/em&gt;". I miss my daddy. Lalu ingatan saya melayang ke 4 tahun lalu saat saya hampir lulus SMA. Me, as a selfish little bitch, merajuk dan marah karena nyaris dihalangi untuk pergi kuliah di Belanda. Lalu saya menulis ini...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sang Raja telah berdusta padaku, salah seorang budaknya yang terkasih. "Kemerdekaan dan kebebasan", ujar beliau suatu waktu,"akan jadi milikmu di masa datang". Kutunggu saat-saat berhargaku dengan penuh harapan dan mimpi. Kuhitung waktu yang berlalu dengan seksama. Berharap roda waktu berputar lebih cepat dari biasanya.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betapa hatiku terlonjak gembira saat kurunganku telah terbuka. Tapi seketika itu pula senyumku pudar dan harapanku hancur terbanting. Ternyata aku tetap terpasung. Beliau telah membiarkan budak tak berharga ini menatap kosong ke arah pintu kurungan yang terbuka. Aku ingin menghambur keluar. Mencecap dunia tak terjamahkan. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pelan-pelan aku mulai meragukan kesetiaanku. Barangkali aku tak benar-benar mengabdi. Barangkali aku hanya takut. Tak berdaya di hadapan kekuasaan beliau atas kerajaan yang makmur ini. Seribu tanya bertumbuhan di kepalaku. Sulur-sulurnya membelit kesadaranku. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aku teringat akan kata-kata beliau tentang kekecewaan. "Kecewa itu biasa. Hanya bagian dari hidup yang harus dijalani", terngiang kembali gelegar suara beliau. Aku tak pernah suka kata-kata itu. Kecewa itu sakit. Dan aku benci merasa sakit…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sekarang saya menyesal setengah mati pernah berpikiran seperti itu. Apalagi saya mengecewakan beliau dengan gagal lulus bulan Juli ini. Jadi sekarang, semangat mengerjakan skripsi!!! *tapi nulis blog dulu....huhhh....*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;P.S. Eh..eh...on a second thought, lagu yang diatas tadi kok jadi terasa mengganjal. Kayanya lebih mirip lagu yang ditujukan untuk seorang kekasih yang berumur jauh lebih tua ya? Iyakah? Humm.... tapi pokoknya, my heart belongs to my daddy deh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112039426112375719?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112039426112375719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112039426112375719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112039426112375719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112039426112375719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/07/my-heart-belongs-to-daddy.html' title='My Heart Belongs to Daddy'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112024965649637750</id><published>2005-07-01T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T01:35:41.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>imaginary remote control</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italicfont-family:verdana;" &gt;"rasanya setelah umur bukan lagi belasan, daya pikir kudu tancap gas. padahal saya benci ngebut"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Begitu kata saya pada seorang sahabat baru lewat jendela chat tadi sore. Saya dan dia memang sedang terjebak dalam pusaran maut yang sering disebut 'twenty something'. Ah, bosan bukan mendengar kata-kata itu? Sudah terlampau sering terngiang-ngiang. Saya masih berharap tidak perlu melalui permasalahan umur kepala dua ini. Bisakah saya memijit tombol fast forward saja? Tidak, terlalu mengerikan. Bagaimana dengan rewind? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Saya ingin kembali ke masa balita. Ketika masih tinggal di pulau kecil yang sebagian besarnya masih berupa hutan. Saya ingat rumah saya pernah berada di dekat pantai. Pernah juga di pinggiran hutan. Saya masih anak kecil manja yang bercita-cita menjadi supermodel, tidak pernah bisa berdiri lurus ketika difoto dan gemar melenggak-lenggok mengelilingi ruang tamu yang sekaligus berfungsi sebagai ruang keluarga dan ruang makan. Ya, saat itu kami sekeluarga masih tinggal di rumah mungil berdinding papan. Saat itu saya masih terlalu lugu untuk mengerti bahwa suatu hari saya tak akan sempat lagi bermimpi, harus memisahkan diri dari orang tua dan menyokong diri sendiri. Yang saya tahu cuma dilarang memanjat pohon oleh ibu saya. Hujan-hujanan dibolehkan. Walaupun saya terlalu genit dan menjerit-jerit apabila diajak bermain hujan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Saya mau kembali ke masa sekolah dasar hingga SMU. Ketika saya mulai 'gaul'. Hahaha...memangnya saya segaul apa dulu? Saya cukup bahagia dengan status saya sebagai 'average student', tanpa ambisi menjadi murid teladan. Beberapa kali berkesempatan mengikuti lomba Bahasa Inggris dan pertandingan tenis antar pelajar, tanpa keinginan untuk menang. Masuk perempat final juga sudah cukup. Sukur-sukur nama saya disebut di mading sekolah. Dapat piala paling kecil diantara deretan finalis lomba pidato juga tak apa. Saya sudah nyaman disana. Tidak perlu saya berkompetisi dengan teman sekelas untuk mendapat nilai tinggi, hanya karena supaya saya lebih dihargai. Agar teman saya tidak berparade di depan saya dengan nilai-nilai gemilangnya. Saya ingin kembali ke masa dahulu saat perasaan suka tidak perlu dipikirkan menjadi "apakah saya akan menghabiskan seluruh sisa hidup dengannya?". Saya juga tidak perlu mengatur uang jajan dan merasa jengah bila tak memiliki pekerjaan sambilan yang menghasilkan uang. Hidup saya lebih sederhana, dan untuk manusia tanpa ambisi seperti saya, hal itu sangatlah sempurna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Lalu datang keinginan saya untuk menjadi dewasa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mungkin disitu awalnya hidup saya yang damai mulai gonjang-ganjing. Tentunya daya pikir saya dituntut untuk punya mesin setara mobil balap F1. Supaya tidak terpontang-panting dan terengah-engah dikejar tuntutan-tuntutan untuk menjadi dewasa. Tapi dari sononya mental saya kurang terlatih untuk menyetir daya pikir. Sampai sekarang mental saya masih mirip nenek-nenek setengah rabun yang melaju di jalur kiri dengan kecepatan maksimum 40km/jam. Bajaj saja pasti menyalip sambil supirnya bersumpah serapah. Seandainya didudukkan di kursi Michael Schumacher, kemungkinannya ada dua: tak berani menginjak pedal gas sama sekali, atau nekat melaju tapi terguling di tikungan. Sebagai seseorang yang benci ngebut, kemungkinan besar saya akan mogok. Seperti akhir-akhir ini. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Jadi sekarang, sambil menimang remote control imajiner, saya memutuskan untuk .... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;..... menekan tombol channel 4 untuk menonton C.S.I di RTL 4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Pusing nek, mikirin yang serius2. Mending liat Warrick ama Grissom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Huehehehehehe....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112024965649637750?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112024965649637750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112024965649637750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112024965649637750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112024965649637750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/07/imaginary-remote-control.html' title='imaginary remote control'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112017062561847993</id><published>2005-06-30T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T15:30:25.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sleep well, my friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Earlier today, I almost threw a set of knives to someone who victoriously laughed at my face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Whether she did it on purpose or not, I don’t care.&lt;br /&gt;Bless my poor heart. She has stabbed the part that hasn’t healed.&lt;br /&gt;But I forgive her already.&lt;br /&gt;And I wish her a good night sleep.&lt;br /&gt;And good luck for the defense in the coming 2 weeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also I thank her for reminding me that I’m a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;loser. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;L-O-S-E-R&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112017062561847993?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112017062561847993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112017062561847993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112017062561847993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112017062561847993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/sleep-well-my-friend.html' title='sleep well, my friend'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-112008592126771750</id><published>2005-06-29T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T15:59:18.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Niken dan skripsinya (edisi 29 Juni 2005)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Kenapa sih saya dituntut untuk bisa mengubah dunia? Memangnya saya ini siapa?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Kenapa sih saya dituntut untuk bisa memberi suatu yang bermanfaat untuk masyarakat? Memangnya saya bisa apa?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Kenapa sih saya diharuskan melakukan sesuatu yang saya takutkan? Mbok ya saya dilepaskan ke kolam kecil saja, jangan ditenggelemin ke laut begini….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Kenapa tadi saya pake boong segala sih? Bodoh…bodoh…bodoh...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*memukuli kepala sendiri*&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Ah, saya memang tak punya ambisi…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*pasrah lalu berjalan menuju pojokan dan meringkuk disana selamanya*&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-112008592126771750?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/112008592126771750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=112008592126771750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112008592126771750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/112008592126771750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/niken-dan-skripsinya-edisi-29-juni.html' title='Niken dan skripsinya (edisi 29 Juni 2005)'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111991306110524670</id><published>2005-06-27T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-27T16:25:49.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great, greater, greatest</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P1050040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P1050040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nine Inch Nails&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" alt="Posted by Hello" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Some great things in life must come with consequences. And what's greater than being a part of the very first Rockin'Park festival in Nijmegen? At least it felt like the greatest thing in my life, so far. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Here are some of the bands that I managed to see on the festival:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Simple Plan - Sexy teenagers wanted!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They might write their song lyrics in tongue-in-cheek way, but they surely take their music seriously. As a warm-up, I decided to be a part of the crazed teens, watching Simple Plan performed. I gotta say, they're not bad at all. They played 'I Believe in a Thing Called Love' sans the intoxicating guitar solo. Too bad. Despite that, I bet thousands of people jumped when Pierre Bouvier yelled "Jump!". I know I did. They communicated well with their fans, knowing most of them are girls, they kept saying how sexy they think Dutch girls are. It was a huge success because I nearly lost my hearing on the left ear after that. Hey girl, when he mentioned "sexy girls out here" he didn't mean just you. He also meant ...ehm, me. So stop screaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Queens Of The Stone Age - Irresponsibly drunk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They are one of the reason why I had to go to this festival. But I had put my hopes too high. It crashed miserably when they went in with an awfully bad start. After announcing themselves nonchalantly as Queens-Of-The-fucking-Stone-Age, they quickly played the first song. They looked pretty drunk, by the way. And the sound of their guitars....ayayay....turn up the volumes please! They finally recovered by the middle of the show. Explosive drums and earth-shaking bass sounds, I couldn't ask for more. But again, Josh Homme had troubles with his guitar on 'Little Sister'. 'No One Knows' closed the show and crowd cheered "We want more!!" But they quickly vanished backstage and never returned. Dissapointed? I had to say I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;The Tears - Lovers reunited&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was never been a big fan of Suede. Partly because they reached their fame when I was still in Michael Learns to Rock era (I shamefully admitted). Partly because Brett Anderson voice is a bit annoying to me. But when the choice was between Jamie Cullum and The Tears, somehow I opted not to see the 'Sinatra in sneakers'. So it was time to leave the bright sunshine and headed to the Tentstage. But The Tears are nothing but a reunion between Brett Anderson and his beloved guitarist, Bernard Butler. Great chemistry, I must say. But after 4 songs, I felt like watching homosexual love affair on-stage. With my stomach kicking and screaming for solid food, I decided to leave. Besides, I almost shed tears out of sheer boredom. Forgive me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Interpol - Smart, slick and suave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh no - oh no - oh no - oh no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was a bit late. Crowds already gathered in front of the stage. I coudn't go further than half of the Tentstage area. Oh well, maybe I could a bit more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They're just magnificent. With suits and ties, they handsomely float between red, purple and blue stage lights. Behind those side-parted bangs, they must be musical geniuses. If we were sitting down, we could give standing ovations after each song. By the end of the show, I was smiling wide. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Nine Inch Nails - Trent Reznor, take me as your whore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The perfect closure to the unbelievable day. I was unaware of the popularity of Nine Inch Nails in this country. Until I saw one shirtless guy, covered with tattoos all over his arms and back, with NIN initial on it. But please understand, I'm just a newbie to all kinds of rock, especially industrial rock. I might not be able to sing along to NIN songs. But I couldn't restrain myself when people around me started to push violently. When Trent Reznor sang "Will you bite the hand that feeds you?", I pushed a guy on my right. After "Will you stay down on your knees?", I hope I had bruised another guy on my left. Definitely a life-changing performance. Closely after The Mars Volta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So what were the consequences?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. Possible failure of today's exam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2. Darkened skin color on sparse areas (only on back of my neck, right arm, and right half-side of my face)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. Abandoned thesis because writing this blog is more tempting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There. I am still dissapointed by the cancellation of The Mars Volta performance due to the guitarist's health problem. Despite that, it was one helluva day. I got so tired that when I woke up today, I felt like I had no energy to peel myself off my bed. But I guess I've found a reason to live. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111991306110524670?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111991306110524670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111991306110524670&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111991306110524670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111991306110524670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/great-greater-greatest.html' title='Great, greater, greatest'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111956475459030532</id><published>2005-06-23T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T15:13:39.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh iPod...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bismillahirahmanirrahim&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ya Allah, hilangkanlah keinginanku untuk membeli iPod. Walaupun dalam hatiku begitu menggelora hasrat untuk mengklaimnya sebagai hak milik. Ya Allah, bisikkan dalam hatiku bahwa iPod itu bukan barang yang penting. Bahwa masih banyak orang2 didunia ini yang masih kelaparan dan lebih membutuhkan sejumlah uang tersebut untuk menyambung hidup. Bahwa lebih baik sejumlah uang tersebut aku tabung untuk kebaikan diriku sendiri dimasa depan. Ya Allah, tabahkanlah hatiku dalam menghadapi iPod milik Tya yang sekarang ada diatas tempat tidurku. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aaaammmiiiinnnn......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;iPod is evil. Buktinya saya bisa sangat menginginkannya tanpa alasan yang jelas. Mata saya bisa seketika melirik iri pada orang2 yang memakainya. Bibir saya mendesis dengki setiap kali kawan saya memamerkan iPodnya. Semakin sering iklan iPod ada dimedia apapun, semakin banyak orang2 memiliki iPod, semakin bertambah pula dosa saya. Ya Allah, mengapa Engkau tidak peringatkan umat-Mu bahwa setan juga bisa berwujud iPod? Apakah perusahaan Apple merupakan simbolisasi dari buah yang dimakan oleh Hawa sehingga manusia terlempar keluar dari Surga? Ah, iman saya memang lemah...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Seharian ini saya sudah menghabiskan waktu dengan bersanding bersama iPod Mini yang bukan milik saya. Saya terus menerus harus menahan diri untuk tidak merangkak2 menuju barang berkilau2 ini sambil mendesis "Mmmyyyy....pprrreeecioooouuussshhhhh...". Tangan saya sampai gemetaran hebat sewaktu menggenggamnya untuk pertama kali. Tiba2 dunia disekeliling saya menghilang, digantikan secercah cahaya membutakan dari benda yang ada di telapak tangan saya. Oh, konturnya begitu pas. Teksturnya begitu mulus. Benda ini...sangat....sempurna...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dimanakah keadilan di dunia ini? Mengapa benda seperti ini bisa jatuh ke tangan seseorang yang tidak mempedulikan arti musik dalam kehidupannya? Mengapa bukan menjadi rezeki saya? Saya yang tak bisa hidup tanpa lagu. Saya yang mengaku ber-Tuhan satu tapi diam2 memuja Dave Grohl dan Billy Corgan. MENGAPA BUKAN REJEKI SAYA?!?!?!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111956475459030532?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111956475459030532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111956475459030532&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111956475459030532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111956475459030532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/oh-ipod.html' title='oh iPod...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111948585893520455</id><published>2005-06-22T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T17:17:38.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>o_0</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Harusnya aku tahu, lebih baik aku tidak tahu&lt;br /&gt;Sembari mengais kebenaran di balik suaranya&lt;br /&gt;aku temukan bininya mengacak pinggang&lt;br /&gt;menyuruh dia pulang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt; euh, i need some sleep. But i end up writing these weird stuff. Wot was i thinkin??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &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/13224831-111948585893520455?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111948585893520455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111948585893520455&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111948585893520455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111948585893520455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/o0.html' title='o_0'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111920023393719447</id><published>2005-06-19T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T09:57:13.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude, where's the beach?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today's weather was divine. To honor God's grace for the wonderfully bright sunshine, me and my friend Tya decided to go basking in the sun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Our destination: Almere Strand. A man-made beach that I passed by whenever I took the train to go out of this (almost) dead city called Almere. Don't ever compare it to any of the beautiful beach you know. This one is no white sandy beach and the best view it can offer includes large high-voltage electrical wires and wind-powered electrical power plant. Interesting, huh? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And so with the destination in our mind and determination to get some tan on our skin, we endured the journey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;We started in the morning when the air is still fresh and my tummy's still empty with no breakfast. We rushed to the train without even looking at the schedule board. Stupid me, I should've checked. I could only cringed when the train sped up past the Almere Strand station. So we hopped out at the next station to get another train back. FYI, train does not always stop at Almere Strand. Only at summertime or special occasion like parties and such. Today, is still not summertime. And today, there are no parties. But apparently Tya had asked one of the NS workers yesterday that confirmed Almere Strand will be available today. Wrong info. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hmm...so how do we get there? Tya wanted to go back home and borrow a bicycle. Cycle all the way to Almere Strand? You gotta be kidding me. I've never been a big fan of beaches and I would never risk my life or even drop a sweat to go to a beach. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What about Almere Haven? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Situated at the opposite side of Flevoland from Almere Strand, we had to go back to Almere Centrum and take a bus. But when we're in Almere Haven, we saw no beach. Just boats and piers. Tya still insisted to get some sand on her feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Our quest was far from end. We head to another destination, 't Oor. I don't know what that is. A lake? A bay? Or just a very huge pond? But where there's sun and water, Dutch people will gather themselves around with their dogs and children, with bikini top or topless, to burn their skin until it turned deep red. Err...tan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Oh, I saw no beach. I saw no sand. But there's a good spot right there to sit down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;By that time, we had given up the idea of finding a beach. Tya was no longer hunting for sand. And we enjoyed the moment in the grasses near the lake (or bay. Or a very huge pond).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;After a while, it's 1 o'clock in the afternoon and we're tired of sitting in the same spot. We had a bright idea. Why not walk home? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So we walked. Upon passing some bushes, we couldn't believe what we saw. We dropped our jaws and screamed "Beach!! Sand!!" *umm..okay, I exaggerate this part a little bit"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Because our initial plan was to sit on a beach and walk on sand, we had to stop by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;But seriously, after that we still walk all the way to the train station to go home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And I got really exhausted, I fell asleep after I had lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I woke up and saw my right arm is darker than my left. &lt;/span&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/13224831-111920023393719447?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111920023393719447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111920023393719447&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111920023393719447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111920023393719447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/dude-wheres-beach.html' title='Dude, where&apos;s the beach?'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111899666640586216</id><published>2005-06-17T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T01:27:08.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sahabat Wanita</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Found this on my e-mail this morning. Quite interesting, don't you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Pada suatu hari, seorang wanita muda yang baru saja menikah  mengunjungi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;ibunya di Bukit Timah. Mereka duduk di sebuah sofa dan menikmati  segelas air&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;teh dingin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Ketika mereka sedang berbincang-bincang  mengenai kehidupan, pernikahan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;tanggung jawab dalam hidup serta kewajiban,  sang ibu dengan perlahan menaruh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;sebongkah es batu ke dalam gelasnya dan  menatap wajah anak perempuannya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;"Jangan lupakan sahabat-sahabat  wanitamu." nasihatnya, sambil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;mengaduk-ngaduk daun teh di bawah gelasnya.  "Mereka akan menjadi orang yang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;penting bagimu ketika usiamu makin tua.Tidak  peduli seberapa dalam kau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;mencintai suamimu, seberapa banyak anak-anak yang  kau miliki, kau masih&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;tetap harus memiliki sahabat wanita. Ingatlah untuk  berjalan-jalan bersama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;mereka, melakukan hal bersama-sama dengan mereka. Dan  ingat bahwa mereka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;bukan hanya sekedar sahabat wanitamu, tetapi mereka akan  menjadi saudara,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;anak dan yang lainnya. Kau akan membutuhkan sosok wanita  yang lain. Wanita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;selalu begitu."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;"Sungguh nasihat yang aneh," pikir  si wanita muda. "Bukankah aku baru saja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;menikah? Bukankah aku baru saja  bergabung dalam dunia pasangan-pasangan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;muda? Sekarang saya adalah seorang  istri, orang dewasa, bukan anak perempuan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;kecil yang memerlukan teman main  perempuan lainnya! Tentu saja keluarga yang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;akan kami bina dapat membuat  hidup saya lebih berarti."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Tetapi, ia mendengarkan nasihat ibunya; ia  terus berhubungan dengan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;sahabat-sahabat wanitanya dan bertemu dengan semakin  banyak sahabat setiap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;tahun. Ketika tahun demi tahun berlalu, ia mulai  merasakan betapa benar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;nasihat yang diberikan ibunya. Ketika waktu dan  keadaan mengubah keberadaan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;mereka sebagai wanita dengan segala misterinya,  sahabat-sahabat wanitanya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;tetap berada dalam kehidupannya. Setelah hidup  selama 50 tahun dalam dunia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;ini, inilah fakta-fakta yang saya dapatkan dari  memiliki sahabat wanita:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita membawakan kau kari ayam dan  menggosok kamar mandimu ketika&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;kau membutuhkan pertolongan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat  wanita akan menjaga anak-anak dan rahasiamu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan  memberikan nasihat ketika kau membutuhkannya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Kadang-kadang kau menerimanya,  kadang-kadang tidak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita tidak selalu mengatakan apa yang kau  lakukan benar, tetapi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;mereka biasanya bersikap jujur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita  akan terus mengasihimu, meskipun ada perbedaan pendapat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita  akan tertawa bersama-sama denganmu, dan lelucon kosong sama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;sekali tidak  diperlukan hanya untuk sebuah tawa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan menarikmu dari  kesulitan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan menolongmu keluar dari hubungan-hubungan  yang buruk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita menolongmu mencarikan rumah tinggal yang baru,  membantu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;mengepak barang dan pindah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan membuat  sebuah pesta untuk anak-anakmu ketika mereka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;menikah atau memiliki anak,  manapun yang lebih dulu terjadi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan selalu berada di  sampingmu, dalam suka maupun duka.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan menempuh badai,  topan, panas, dan kegelapan untuk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;mengeluarkan kau dari  keputusasaan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan mendengarkan ketika kau kehilangan  pekerjaan atau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;seorang kawan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan mendengarkan ketika  anak-anakmu mengecewakanmu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan mendengarkan ketika  keadaan orang tua kita semakin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;memburuk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita akan menangis  bersamamu ketika orang yang dikasihimu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;meninggal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita  menghiburmu ketika kau dikecewakan oleh banyak pria  didalam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;kehidupanmu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita membantumu untuk bangkit kembali  ketika pria kau cintai pergi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;meninggalkanmu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sahabat wanita senang  ketika mereka melihatmu bahagia, dan bersedia mencari&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;dan melemparkan apa  yang tidak membuatmu bahagia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Waktu berlalu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Kehidupan  berjalan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Jarak memisahkan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Anak-anak beranjak  dewasa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Cinta hilang dan pergi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Hati yang hancur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Karir  berakhir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Pekerjaan berganti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Orang tua  meninggal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Rekan-rekan melupakan kebaikan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Pria tidak menelpon  ketika mereka berkata mereka akan melakukan sesuatu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;(misalnya saat berpindah  ke lain hati).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;TETAPI, sahabat-sahabat wanita akan terus mendampinginmu,  meskipun waktu dan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;jarak yang terpaut sangat jauh. Seorang sahabat wanita  tidak akan lebih jauh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;dari orang-orang yang membutuhkan. Ketika kau harus  berjalan melewati lembah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;sendirian, sahabat wanitamu akan terus berjalan  bersamamu diatas puncak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;lembah, menyusuri jarak bersamamu, menghiburmu,  mendoakanmu, menarikmu, dan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;menanti dengan tangan terbuka di ujung lembah  ketika perjalanan berakhir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Terkadang, mereka pun harus melanggar peraturan  untuk dapat berjalan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;bersamamu. Atau bahkan menopangmu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Anak, saudara,  ibu, ipar perempuan, ibu mertua, bibi, keponakan, sepupu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;perempuan, keluarga  jauh, dan para sahabat perempuan saya telah membuat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;kehidupan saya lebih  berarti! Dunia tidak akan sama tanpa kehadiran mereka,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;dan begitu juga  saya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Ketika kita memulai petualangan kita sebagai wanita dewasa, kita  tidak tahu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;tentang kesukacitaan atau kedukaan yang akan terjadi di depan.  Atau seberapa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;jauh saya dan mereka akan saling membutuhkan. Tetapi saya tahu,  saya masih&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;tetap membutuhkan mereka setiap hari.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Terjemahan Bebas oleh  Bassisette&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/13224831-111899666640586216?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111899666640586216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111899666640586216&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111899666640586216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111899666640586216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/sahabat-wanita.html' title='Sahabat Wanita'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111885083388655025</id><published>2005-06-15T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-15T08:53:53.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>being me is sooooo frustrating</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Please help me. Especially when you:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;1. Are highly motivated on doing whatever you're doing right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;2. Have the ability to focus and concentrate for a long period of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;3. Don't get lost in your own thoughts in the middle of a conversation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;4. Don't lose the point of what you're trying to say in the middle of a conversation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;5. Don't constantly question yourself "This is right train/bus/tram to go home, right?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;6. Can still remember where you are going to after a long journey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Please be kind to drop a few tips on focusing and concentrating. I'm so tired of having a very very extremely short attention span. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I have tried a lot of things to keep distractions at bay. Including cleaning my room and making it more comfortable and cozy. Bad choice. It makes me sleepy. I have tried plugging off my LAN cable and even hiding it!! But then I also need internet for my thesis. I have tried slapping my hands whenever they type Friendster or YahooMail or Isohunt. Google is allowed. But on limited choice of search words. I have tried lip reading whenever people are talking to me. I have tried to summarize my story that I'm telling to people so that I don't lose my point. I have tried to pay attention to my surroundings while walking on the street. I will try not to bring my Discman when I travel alone so that I can pay attention to what train I'm taking and where I'm going. Can't think of any other things so far...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;For a while I was convinced that I have Attention Deficit Disorder (minus the hiperactivity, thus I'm not ADHD). But I guess I was just exaggerating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Are there such thing as "concentration pills"? Cos I'm willing to buy them in bulk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I need to focus. Focus, dammit! Concentrate!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Aaaarrrggghhhhh.....!!!!&lt;/span&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/13224831-111885083388655025?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111885083388655025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111885083388655025&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111885083388655025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111885083388655025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/being-me-is-sooooo-frustrating.html' title='being me is sooooo frustrating'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111856541533307542</id><published>2005-06-12T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-15T12:58:11.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All Is Full of Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre   style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:verdana;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You'll be given love&lt;br /&gt;You'll be taken care of&lt;br /&gt;You'll be given love&lt;br /&gt;You have to trust it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not from the sources&lt;br /&gt;You have poured yours&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not from the directions&lt;br /&gt;You are staring at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So twist your head around&lt;br /&gt;It's all around you&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love&lt;br /&gt;All around you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love&lt;br /&gt;You just aint receiving&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love&lt;br /&gt;Your phone is off the hook&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love&lt;br /&gt;Your doors are all shut&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love&lt;br /&gt;In any language&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love, all is full of love&lt;br /&gt;All is full of love, all is full of love ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Untuk sahabat saya yang berbagi kegilaan yang sama pada Death Cab for Cutie&lt;br /&gt;Untuk sahabat saya yang sedang berduka&lt;br /&gt;Mungkin ini bukan lagu yang tepat&lt;br /&gt;But we love you and we're here for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111856541533307542?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111856541533307542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111856541533307542&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111856541533307542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111856541533307542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/all-is-full-of-love.html' title='All Is Full of Love'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111856270286005147</id><published>2005-06-12T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T13:54:07.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saya dan kulkas</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sedari dulu saya sadar, saya nggak punya bakat beruntung. Maka itu saya selalu menghindari segala macam bentuk taruhan, lotere, kuis berhadiah dan door prize. Soalnya saya tau nggak bakalan dapet apa2. Sewaktu saya kecil (masih Sekolah Dasar), saya masih punya keyakinan sama door prize. Kalo bapak saya punya acara kantor, lengkap dengan hiburan panggung (baca: bapak saya dan rekan2 kerjanya berkaraoke) dan door prize, saya pasti duduk manis dengan menggenggam erat2 tiket nomor door prize dengan mata berbinar2. Biasanya pada akhir acara, setelah semua nomor dibacakan, senyum saya mulai memudar berganti dengan rasa kecewa karena sepeda gunung yang saya incar jatuh ke tangan seorang bapak yang anaknya masih balita. Mending buat saya saja, pak…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Tapi setelah saya pikir2 lagi, saya juga bukan orang yang selalu sial. Saya yakin Tuhan masih sayang sama saya. Saya masih tetap bisa tumbuh dari anak perempuan menggemaskan menjadi gadis penuh pesona lalu beranjak menuju wanita idaman setiap pria (sudah, jangan protes. Biarkan saya berimajinasi). Tidak bisa disangkal bahwa beberapa kali kejadian memalukan menimpa saya. Dan tentunya juga saya punya bad luck untuk beberapa benda.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Yang saya maksud sebagai benda pembawa sial adalah &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;kulkas&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Kesialan saya dengan kulkas dimulai sejak saya tinggal di Amsterdam. Saya dan beberapa teman menyewa rumah di bilangan Admiraal de Ruijterweg yang sangat strategis dengan angkutan umumnya yang tepat berada di depan pintu rumah. Sayang sekali rumah kami ini dikutuk dengan dapur yang senantiasa berantakan dan kulkas yang selalu bermasalah. Pemilik rumah yang kami sewa sangat bangga dengan kulkasnya. Bentuknya memang antik. Sudah pasti berumur lebih tua dari saya. Kemungkinan seumur dengan tante saya yang baru menikah 2 bulan lalu. Dengan jayanya kulkas tua ini masih bisa berfungsi, walaupun terdapat kecacatan pada freezernya. Cacat apakah itu? Saya kurang mengerti urusan perkulkasan, yang jelas setiap berapa bulan sekali freezer itu pasti dipenuhi es sehingga pintunya tak bisa dibuka. Kalau sudah demikian, emosi saya pasti melunjak dan saya akan terobsesi memahat es2 tersebut hingga seisi freezer bersih dari es. Ketika saya pindah dari rumah itu, saya pikir kutukan kulkas bobrok akan meniggalkan saya.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Tapi ternyata roh freezer membeku masih tetap menghantui saya. Bahkan ketika saya sudah pindah rumah ke Almere yang kulkasnya lebih modern. Ternyata tetap saja saya harus berkutat dengan pintu freezer yang sulit dibuka, plus upacara penyingkiran serpihan es dari dalam freezer. Tuhan, tolonglah. Saya tak punya waktu untuk ini. Yang membuat saya harus tertawa tragis hingga nyaris meneteskan air mata putus asa adalah ketika beberapa hari lalu saya tak bisa membuka pintu freezer sama sekali. Padahal di dalamnya ada begitu banyak bahan makanan. Ada daging sapi yang hendak saya olah menjadi rendang. Ada ikan salmon yang akan saya sulap menjadi salmon steak dengan saus krim lemon. Ada daging ayam yang hendak saya panggang dengan bumbu madu dan wijen. Sebentar, saya perlu meneguk ludah setelah menulis itu semua. *cleguk*&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sekarang saya harus belanja lagi sembari tetap berusaha membuka freezer. Saya belum putus harapan kok. Kesabaran saya pasti membuahkan hasil. Apabila tidak, mungkin akan terjadi sesuatu yang brutal pada pintu freezer. Oh, jangan. Saya masih membutuhkan uang deposit saya kembali. Berarti yang bisa saya lakukan hanya berdoa , semoga pada saat saya kelaparan nanti, saya punya ide lain. Seperti yang selalu saya bilang: do not underestimate the power of kepepet hehehehe…..&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111856270286005147?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111856270286005147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111856270286005147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111856270286005147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111856270286005147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/saya-dan-kulkas.html' title='Saya dan kulkas'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111831365647277142</id><published>2005-06-09T03:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T03:45:57.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Golden slumbers, where art thou?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lately I noticed that I had many dreams in one night’s sleep. Some of them I can remember, but for most of them I don’t. They all mean the same thing anyway: I don’t get a decent rest at nighttime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Most of the dreams I had were a combination of recent issues in my life and some absurd stuff. Like when I had to see my docent for my thesis, I dreamed about him (the night before) rejecting and tossing away my draft without even reading it. After that I had to chase him through endless narrow halls just to give it to him again (or shove it up his ass, as I was hoping). The actual situation: he didn’t reject the draft at all, for he also didn’t read them properly. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What I had last night was unforgettable. I can still picture my dream clearly right now. It was me and some of my friends in a bright sunny day. Indeed, today’s weather is lovely. Me and my friends are trying to go to a park to have a small picnic (hey, were we planning to do this some time?) but we were unable to get any public transportation. And yes, GVB is having a strike today. So anyway, after a long wait in a crowded bus station, a bus came. To my surprise, the driver was a transvestite wearing tight blood red dress with a low v-neck (must be damn gorgeous for cleavage-showing) and a matching lipstick. I have to make clear now that I have no objection toward cross-dresser male or transvestites. But this supposedly bus driver was a bit too muscular for that red dress. Plus he had chest hair. Not a good combination. As if there were not enough horror, he blew kisses to everyone who paid the bus fare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There were already a few people inside the bus. I recognized one of them as my best friend from my elementary school. I waved and smiled at her but she gave me a weird look. That I-don’t-think-I-know-you-so-stop-smiling-at-me look. She sat next to a girl that I thought I had seen somewhere. I finally realized that we were in the same class at secondary school. Oh, what a reunion. I believe her name is Retno and I prepared myself to greet her by her name. Suddenly I felt a nudge on my elbow and one of my friend asked “Hey, isn’t that Donny?”. She pointed to Retno’s direction. Suddenly Retno looked more like a boy and looked like someone I know by the name Donny. I was clearly confused. Anyway, I said hi to Retno/Donny without pronouncing any names. She (or he) smiled back but didn’t seem to recognize me right away. It was so awkward.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I think I woke up after that. My shoulder and neck was sore. My blanket was tossed to the floor. And my pillow was nearly stripped out of its pillow case. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As I was brushing my teeth, I took a glance at the mirror. Tired eyes and visible dark circles. I cursed at that cross-dresser bus driver. I want my peaceful sleep back!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111831365647277142?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111831365647277142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111831365647277142&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111831365647277142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111831365647277142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/golden-slumbers-where-art-thou.html' title='Golden slumbers, where art thou?'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111808532740263817</id><published>2005-06-06T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-06T12:15:27.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>calon gembel...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Yaps, hari ini saya sudah bayar tiket pulang ke Indonesia. Tanggal 17 Juli nanti saya bakalan pulang ke pangkuan ibunda untuk sebulan lebih. Tepatnya sampai 24 Agustus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hemh...tapi ya bukannya trus bisa lega liburan gitu sih. Senyum jadi kecut gini begitu keinget skripsi. Kayanya kok semakin jauh dari kemungkinan cepet selesai ya? Dan juga ada masalah yang lebih pelik lagi. Saya mau tinggal dimana begitu kembali kesini?! I'm homeless, guys!! Seandainya, ini seandainya banget nih, ada yang berkenan menampung saya untuk sebulan dua bulan, saya akan sangat bersyukur. Atau kalo bisa ngasih tau tempat mana gitu yang bisa jadi tempat tinggal sementara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bisa juga sih cari kamar atau studio yang tijdelijk gitu. Tapi kan brarti saya kudu punya tempat menumpang beberapa lama sembari mencari2 tempat lain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tolong dong.... Saya sangat mengharap kemurahan hati kalian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terima kasih sebelumnya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*ngetik blog sambil gigit jari dan dengerin Cocteau Twins*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111808532740263817?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111808532740263817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111808532740263817&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111808532740263817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111808532740263817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/06/calon-gembel.html' title='calon gembel...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111727532579130628</id><published>2005-05-28T02:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-28T03:15:25.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yap, lazy saturday. Setelah lazy friday, lazy thursday, dan lazy wednesday yang lalu hehehe....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Berhubung baru punya blog disini, kerjaan saya sepagian cuma bloghopping sambil dengerin lagu2. Lagipula rumah super duper sepi tanpa housemate saya yang ceriwis dan si pemilik rumah yang hobi gedubrakan. So i decide to hibernate inside my room dan berjemur2 didepan jendela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diantara lagu2 yang lagi didengerin ini ada lagunya Joanna Newsom. Nggak inget lagi kenapa dulu saya donlot lagu dia. Mungkin baca namanya di suatu tempat dan mengikuti insting untuk dengerin lagunya. Dulu saya donlot seisi album dia, berhubung nggak tau yang bagus yang mana. Dan waktu dengerin lagunya.....alamaaaakkk!! Suaranya cempreng sekali! Sakit kepala saya. Setelah beberapa kali berusaha mendengarkan the whole album, akhirnya saya menyerah. Langsung saya hapus semua, kecuali satu yang judulnya This Side of The Blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kalo lagu yang satu ini, entah kenapa cocok sekali jadi lagu pengantar tidur. Ngantuk deh dengerinnya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;This Side of The Blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;pre style="font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Svetlana sucks lemons across from me,&lt;br /&gt;and I am progressing abominably.&lt;br /&gt;And I do not know my own way to the sea&lt;br /&gt;but the saltiest sea knows its own way to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city that turns, turns protracted and slow&lt;br /&gt;and I find myself toeing th'embarcadero&lt;br /&gt;and I find myself knowing the things that I knew&lt;br /&gt;which is all that you can know on this side of the blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Jaime has eyes black and shiny as boots&lt;br /&gt;and they march at you, two-by-two (re - loo - re - loo);&lt;br /&gt;when she looks at you, you know she's nowhere near through:&lt;br /&gt;it's the hardest heart beating this side of the blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the signifieds butt heads with the signifiers,&lt;br /&gt;and we all fall down slack-jawed to marvel at words!&lt;br /&gt;While across the sky sheet the impossible birds,&lt;br /&gt;in a steady, illiterate movement homewards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Gabriel stands beneath forest and moon.&lt;br /&gt;See them rattle &amp; boo, see them shake, see them loom.&lt;br /&gt;See him fashion a cap from a page of Camus;&lt;br /&gt;see him navigate deftly this side of the blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the rest of our lives will the moments accrue&lt;br /&gt;when the shape of their goneness will flare up anew.&lt;br /&gt;hen we do what we have to do (re - loo - re -loo),&lt;br /&gt;which is all you can do on this side of the blue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111727532579130628?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111727532579130628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111727532579130628&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111727532579130628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111727532579130628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/05/lazy-saturday.html' title='Lazy Saturday'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13224831.post-111722620183105100</id><published>2005-05-27T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T13:44:20.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sambut saya dong...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Wahai kawan-kawan yang budiman.&lt;br /&gt;Sekiranya anda semua berkenan menyambut saya dalam dunia perbloggeran, bolehkanlah saya mempersembahkan ikon dari negeri Belanda. Bukan kincir angin, bukan jembatan Erasmus, bukan Ratu Beatrix. Tapi &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sepeda&lt;/span&gt;. Yang ada dimana2. Di ujung jalan sana, di ujung jalan sini. Yang nyaris menabrak saya hari ini. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/P5260003b1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 4px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/320/P5260003b1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BikesOfAmsterdam &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" alt="Posted by Hello" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13224831-111722620183105100?l=fickleflame.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/feeds/111722620183105100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13224831&amp;postID=111722620183105100&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111722620183105100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13224831/posts/default/111722620183105100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickleflame.blogspot.com/2005/05/sambut-saya-dong.html' title='Sambut saya dong...'/><author><name>Niken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08175731853100743389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/216/5995/640/IMG_3247.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
