3for1 Travelogue ?
? our T-Junction : Where 3 travelling paths meet ?
music player here ;)
で.say hi!

Noun (plural \travelogues\)
1. A description of someone's travels, given in the form of narrative, public lecture, slide show or motion picture.
2. A travel journal, also called road journal or travelogue, is a record made by a voyager. Generally in diary form, a travel journal contains descriptions of the traveler's experiences, is normally written during the course of the journey, and may or may not be intended for publishing.

Phrase (read \'three-for-one'\)
1. Where the journeys of three become one.
2. Where one place represents the bonds of three.

A resting place, a welcoming home, a shared travel log for the three of us...
1. A commemmoration to our beautiful friendship; a witness to our exciting futures; a platform to tell the stories of new places and people we'll be meeting.
2. Because we have one another in our hearts, Travelogue341 is born.

Welcome to Travelogue341! We hope you enjoy our journeys as much as we do :)



March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 October 2011


Basta Marian Suwono Ruam

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put anything here, up to you (:
plurkies, hates loves, bla and bla and bla (:
the more thingymajiggies you put here the more prettier it'll look


Ferina Tjahjana
a.k.a Big Pink Loooser ;)
Jan8 - Capricorn
Jakarta, Indonesia
Phan My Linh
a.k.a Person, Cheesy
May19 - Taurus
Hanoi, Vietnam
Facebook 107b IMG_6480i
Ruam Sira
a.k.a Rummy, Crappy
May9 - Taurus
Chiangmai, Thailand
Facebook Rummy333 27000_377024812934_643712934_3681339_2323456_n

FerRaRu World Map
Asia, Pacific
Singapore - Malaysia (KL, JB) - Indonesia (Jakarta) - Vietnam (Hanoi, Ha Long Bay, Hue, Hoi An) - Thailand (Bangkok, Changmai)Cambodia (Phnom Penh, Siem Reap)
United States
CA: California City, CA: Los Angeles, CA: San Francisco, CT Yalesville, DC: Washington DC, MA: Boston, NY: New York City, FL: Hollywood
UK (Oxford, Bath, London) - Italy (Rome, Perugia, Venice, Florence, Milan, Pisa, Orvieto, Siena)
Middle East
Qatar: Doha

再度参照してください - See you again, Ferina
Wednesday, March 31, 2010

For our dearest Ferina,
who finally got her TROPHY :))


"It is always sad when someone leaves home, unless they are simply going around the corner and will return in a few minutes with ice-cream sandwiches."

I know it'll be hard for you to leave home, especially when the future and the place you're going to hold so many unknowns and challenges. Still, I have a whole-hearted confidence in you, Fer; I'm sure that no matter what comes, or what difficulties you'll be facing, you'll be able to get through it all with strength and laughters in Fer-style that only you can do. I wish you the best of luck - I truly sincerely do - and just remember that there are A LOT of people who love and miss you, who will be looking forward to seeing your happiness and success in Japan. So be happy alright? You can be nervous and excited, but do not be afraid or sad. Be yourself, because that's already the best.
Have a safe trip to Japan Fer!!!! :D

"A ship is safe in the harbor, but that is not what ships are for."
- Matthew Perryman Jones

''Because we're always glamorous wherever we are. Go FerRuRa!!!'' <3<3<3

---------------<3 ---------------


Hey there Big Pink Winner,

Looking at this picture gives me a nostalgia moment. Hey Fer, you remember? Our first trip? Our first fight? 1st time I told you off, made you cry? 1st time I screamed at you over the phone: "It takes BOTH hands to make this friendship work, and you ARE NOT helping"  - but then again, in time to come, sometime it was you who went the extra miles to hold my trembling hands. 1st time I felt like flying over the sky just because you called me when you hit rock bottom - just so I knew, it was me you trust...  So many thousands of our first times together as best friends. Hey Fer, you remember? Because I do, I do remember. I cherish them all.

I also remember our dreams, our tears, our fear of the future which creep into our sleep, our quiet talks - how you cried over the silly SAT result. SEE! Look at what you now achieve! You will be landing on THAT particular land where my ultimate favorite boys DBSK rule - sorry for the obsession. I could not be more proud. I really could not. If you could see me then, when I called you in the middle of the street in Hanoi, screaming joy and happiness like a little freak congratulating you on winning the scholarship- not giving a damn how people stared, you would have laughed wholeheartedly - ridiculously. 

Being with you, I lost all my glam, I drop all my gracefulness. I go pink for Big Pink Loser, and I breath in youthfulness, silliness and fun after such a very long time. Because Fer, I love you so so much

So tomorrow you are leaving. And I am sitting here talking about yesterday. Rummy and I function the very opposite ways. She looks ahead, I keep turning back and trace bits and pieces of the past. I could have gone on and on. However, being with Rummy and you taught me one thing:

I am looking forward to see you again. Because I know: we love one another - that's why we will, that's why our paths will cross again very very soon. 

So let me send you off with a smile, the biggest one - not like I am so bloody happy sending off my biggest worry and burden away... hehe. Smile, ok? Fer - no, not that silly, nerdy, idiotic one. Nah, not that weird frown either. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? CAN'T YOU JUST SMILE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON... lol, just kidding! You can smile all that you want, in which ever way - cuz guess what? I love them all - I just could not find the balls to admit it most of the time (indeed, it would be weird if I do find some.... you know)

New land, new people, some nice, some mean - but no one should take my place as the MEANEST person to you. If someone does, tell me, I will come over and kick her ass. Don't be afraid of the future, ok? Don't be. Let's us 3 look forward. Till we meet again, be a good girl. Don't cry too much. Don't send me that ". . ." sms on my facebook too soon - you know what I am talking about. And do, please do, make the best of your stay in Japan.

I love you, my Big Pink Loser. I love your true color (though it's bloody pink, wth) . ^^ . So dye Jap with your color, ok? hehe. I will visit you very very soon

take care, darling <3

P/S: Miss Ruam and Miss Rachel would VERY much appreciate if Miss Ferina sponsors them JAPair ticket from Chiangmai and Hanoi to the USA annually - so they can visit her more often, as often as Miss Ferina is willing to (actually so they do not have to fly KOREAN air :)) And they also would very much appreciate for full accommodation support ^^ It takes both hands to clap. Hope you are still clapping cheerfully hehe

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Underwater Bride & Groom
Saturday, March 27, 2010

I stumbled upon these wedding pictures yesterday night and was mesmerized...
Crazy... yet so magical : )

from here


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Beauty - Rachel's POV
Thursday, March 25, 2010

A: Hey, why do you want to become beautiful?
B: If I have some beauty, things would be...I don't know...
A: Is it that kind of beauty that you want?
B: It's not that I'm jealous of the people who have it, but would just be nice if I have it too.
The kind that can make people smile, you know...
A: Is it necessary?
B: I don't know...I just feel like having it. Maybe it'd be easier when I like someone (laugh).
A: What if you just don't have it. What are you gonna do?
B: Hmm. Live with it I guess. Or just try harder.
A: Is it really a good idea? To have to be tired, to strain yourself to such an extent?
B: I don't know...
We do talk to ourselves, don't we? 
We do double check our sanity once in a while 
Q: why the hell do you like THAT jerk, Rachel?
SA - Self Answer -.-" why the hell do YOU like him, dude, we are the same freaking person, aren't we?
We do curse ourselves here and there:
SA - Self accusation: Why the hell must you eat so much and care so little? :P

But most of the time, we coo our shattered hearts, comfort our hurt soul... things we do when we can't find anyone to trustworthy enough to share the burden.

About beauty, I was not born with the beauty I desire :( You know, when you are sixteen and the guy you like, along with his friends composed a rap about how tilted your jaw looks, how fat you are and how- the only plus point on your body was your boobs - because they're slightly bigger than the standard A cup Asian. When all this craps happen to you at the age of sixteen, when the guy you like continually falls in love with someone else and continually share his dream with you. It's only natural that you ask yourself:

What if?
What if I am prettier?
What if I am not in TAF club, not fatter than him (for like 10 kg with odds -.-" )
What if I look JUST LIKE THEM - those skinny classmate chicks 
Would he likes me instead of HER?
Would I receive a thousand and one chocolate and a few hundred secret admirers' letter on Valentine day?

If those craps ever occurs in your life, if you once or twice ask yourself something along that line.... HELLO! Hi5 here, you are definitely NOT the only one. 

My tragic story started when I was 3. At the age of three, I was kicked out of the ballet club - because none of the team costume fit me -.-" so I could never perform on stage - so I should just quit. At the age of six, up till the last day of my school life in Vietnam, my uniform had always been tailored by my mother - because the standard size never quite fit me. At the age of thirteen, I once prayed to my grandfather that I would be given a flower by a male classmate on the 8th of March - for I had always been the only class leader who came home empty handed since kindergarten -.-" At the age of fourteen, I cried myself to sleep - because some guy in class told me, innocently, I looked like an ape from behind. That was NOT the end, was that? I bet Rummy still remembered how we met, how I cried and she felt so sorry for me that her kindness urged her to start a conversation with the  - almost complete stranger. Well, I cried because I heard my batch mates' rap about my not-too-pretty figures for the first time.

and it was not as if I needed someone to remind me that I am not a "pretty girl"

Before my very best friends start to feel sorry for me then don't! I am glad, having been through all those craps made me who I am today. 

Today, Rachel would flip her hair twice instead of once if someone criticizes her fashion She would bite a bigger bite of the cake in front of them if some poor soul tells her to go on an diet (apart from her mom, for she knows, getting a slap in public ain't pretty) It's not as if Rachel gets any prettier -.-" just that I, appreciate myself - my crooked teeth, my unsymmetrical chin, my overweight issue - a hell lot  more.

Yet unlike Ruam, who desires a beauty that makes people smile, I want the kind of beauty that makes people green with envy, blue with regrets, especially those guys who give me a "PASS" when it comes to look. No longer do I praise those girls who are born pretty. Because it's effortless,  because they are bloody lucky to be born with a giftthey do nothing to look that stunning. I adore, so much more, those not-so-gorgeous girls who have style, or at least the one who actually make an effort to look wonderful. 

People criticize SNSD because they are "plastic". Me think, plastic surgery, so what? If they can, why can't you? Why must those ugly netziens sit around and envy SNSD look instead of getting their asses to a clinic and look stunning? Don't look at it as "human playing God" or "unnatural beauty" - yeah whatever, me think, let's look at the effort they put in to satisfy your eyes. Let's look at those strict diet they go through, those harsh hours in the gym to have that kind of pretty legs. You know, I hate those people who can sit around/ eat as much as they want/ wear FBT outside of their bathroom - and still have the shameless face to criticize those girls who doll up pretty

However, SNSD and 2NE1?  Me like 2NE1 better - though I applause SNSD for the manufactured plastic look - I mean it in a non sarcastic way. 

I love 2NE1 so much -  not their music, but them - because CL and Minzy - 2 single eyes lid girls who have no cut on their face, still pull off the confident, healthy, beautiful look. (Park Boom and CL are both plus size chicks in Korean celeb standard. They are both so-called meaty girls)

... having said that... beauty to me is "comfortable" with your look, "love yourself" - all the corny craps make perfect sense to me :) Like Fer, she is happy with me calling her a Big Pink Loser though she freaking won a Jap scholarship. I believe she does not throw me a punch, because no matter what I say, she knows she is one brainy girl - in some sense her My Linh just cannot comprehend yet. 

To be honest, if tomorrow I can find a doctor who can break my jaw and put them all back in symmetrical manner, I would :) To be very honest, if tomorrow, I can find a medicine to help me lose 5 kg, I would :) 

in the mean while, I will sit around and "try harder" to lose all possible kg - at the same time praying for my luck that I get in any college I applied - Wellesley on the 26th baby!!!

in the mean while, I will live with what I have - hoping for the better ^^ but if this is life's plan for me, to look like this, to watch all those superficial guys going for those pretty shell with no pretty heart... then let it be

In a funny way, without her realizing it, 16 years old Ruam did not know, she had it all. She had THAT beauty she wanted. Because every time Rachel saw her, Rachel smiled - and not just Rachel, for sure. Because my parents still remember how your smile radiated that kind of happiness that make a gloomy day shine...

without YOU realizing it, you have it all. I have it all. Not on the surface, but with my wtf attitude, chicks envy me with my sureness (of myself i.e. if you don't think my look rox, YOU ARE WRONG -.-"), with my confidence and all that.Silly chicks, anyone who finally accept themselves would really have it all

you both are very beautiful
silly Fer, silly Rummy
my girls are DAMN beautiful
the kind that makes me laugh in vain

well,we are just as hot as SNSD - with the hat and Brown Eyes Girls - with the hip dance pose
so I can proudly say that we are even better looking that them both... because while they eat 80 calories per day, we eat 60 dishes per week and we almost look the same Don't YOU agree on that?


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I had absolutely no ideas what to blog about...been thinking about it for the whole day :(
Then fortunately, I flipped through my old diary, and found this really...uhm...random entry which kind of perplexed me (wouldn't tell you guys why :P haha). So I'll just share this entry, hopefully someone can help me shed the light on the (in)significance/meaning (if any) of it.
As I said, it is a really olddddd entry (about 4 years ago), so please pardon the 16-year-old RuaM if it absolutely makes no sense to you. ^^''


A: Hey, why do you want to become beautiful?
B: If I have some beauty, things would be...I don't know...
A: Is it that kind of beauty that you want?
B: It's not that I'm jealous of the people who have it, but would just be nice if I have it too.
The kind that can make people smile, you know...
A: Is it necessary?
B: I don't know...I just feel like having it. Maybe it'd be easier when I like someone (laugh).
A: What if you just don't have it. What are you gonna do?
B: Hmm. Live with it I guess. Or just try harder.
A: Is it really a good idea? To have to be tired, to strain yourself to such an extent?
B: I don't know...

Haha ok that's the end of it. On an entirely irrelevant ending note, this is my current favourite song.

And do check them out if you have free time. The members of the band are Asian Americans and they are based in California. One of the reasons I applied to UCLA and Berkeley is them ^o^
Seriously The Band (youtube)


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Lost in translation
Tuesday, March 23, 2010

THE Latina girl, wearing all black, said: “You’re dating a foreign guy, right? Well, I dated this foreign guy for three years. I was living in New York and he was in Paris. I found out he had another girlfriend the whole time.”

“I met his parents though,” I said. “That always means things are serious.”
“I met his parents, too,” she said. “They knew the whole time. Meeting his parents doesn’t mean anything.”
People are always trying to educate me about dating foreigners. For a while I let their words affect me. After my encounter with the Latina girl, I told my boyfriend I didn’t believe him when he said “I love you,” just as I hadn’t believed him the first time he said it, only three weeks after we met.
Could it really mean the same thing for him to say “I love you” in English if he spoke German? He said it did, of course it did. But I sensed that when he cursed in English it was just a sound to him, because when I curse in a foreign language it’s just a sound to me. Why should saying “I love you” be any different?
Once, years ago, I had uttered “te amo” to a man in Spain, and I admit I said it just to hear the words come out of my mouth, to see how they would feel in my voice, on my tongue.
The Spanish man warned me never to say te amo again unless I meant it. I said it three more times in a row, all at that moment, and then never again.
I don’t speak German but I’ve said “ich liebe dich” plenty of times and it never does feel like a contract the way saying “I love you” feels like a contract. He, too, has said ich liebe dich to me. When we first started dating, this should have been a comfort to me, but it wasn’t. German sounded strange and ich liebe dich sounded ugly to my ear compared to “I love you.” It bounced off of me, it didn’t stay, didn’t embed itself like “I love you.”
I once tried saying “volim te” — “I love you” in Serbo-Croatian — and he didn’t respond. I asked if I’d said it right and he said I had. Then he repeated it quietly.
That’s the one, I thought: volim te. That’s the “I love you” that works for me, the one that is honest.
Later I asked him if this was true, if saying “I love you” in his first language was more honest. He said it wasn’t. He assured me that “I love you” has the same meaning for him in all of his languages.
We met when he was a student in America, when all we spoke was English. We had been together for four months before I heard him converse in German — we were in Berlin together, and it startled me: he looked suddenly possessed, as if he were speaking in tongues. I almost expected him to fall to the floor and be healed.
For his work he frequently speaks in German before an audience of Germans. I thought I would enjoy seeing him do this; I expected I would be able to follow along somehow. Instead it felt as if I had been dropped on another planet where the person with whom I am most intimate, the person I had just slept with, was having a secret and separate interaction with everyone around me.
I sat in the back so no one would judge me, so they wouldn’t notice when I failed to laugh at the funny moments or if I played with my camera during the serious ones.
When my boyfriend was in New York for a while and a girl stayed with him there, I asked if she was his ex-girlfriend “or something,” and he said no, she wasn’t. I wondered if “or something” didn’t carry enough weight or meaning for him to address the fact that even though she may not have been his ex-girlfriend she was still more than just a friend, or had been, or so I imagined.

Euphemisms, politeness, suggestiveness, sarcasm, irony and passive-aggressive gestures — all risk being lost in translation.

In my writing class, I teach my students about subtext. I tell them people alter their conversations depending on whom they wish to address. I tell them people rarely say what they mean, that we are constantly revising our words, that the movement from thought to word is often transformative and strange.

Subtext does not often transfer between languages.

Early in our relationship, my boyfriend complimented a woman on her dress and I became upset. He said he was just being honest. I asked if he would mind if I complimented men, and he said he wouldn’t, but I wished he would.
Perhaps this kind of directness is a cultural difference. One evening in Germany, an old professor of his, the man who taught him German, joined us and said to me in surprise: “You are his girlfriend? He didn’t mention you when we spoke last year. He said he was happy and alone.”
When I confronted my boyfriend about this later, he said, without much concern: “Allein can mean many things. It can mean single but it can also mean living alone, being alone, working alone.”
“Ich bin glücklich und allein.” I am happy and alone. If this phrase ever were to come out of my mouth, the subtext would almost certainly be that I was unhappy and lonely.
The phrase stayed with me. I reinterpreted the words and reformed them and in the process I reinterpreted him, us, me. Would it always be this way, I wondered? Would our language and cultural differences always allow for excuses to be made, for meaning to be reformed? In those days our words seemed like soft clay that never dried.
“I was so in love with you there,” he said one evening when I mentioned the place in the Midwest where we had met. He said that phrase often, and it always vaguely distressed me, as if he was suggesting that love was a label he could pass along freely from day to day, attaching it here and there in his memory.
I asked a friend about this and the friend said he thought it was better that way, about love, and how my boyfriend moved it around like an object. He told me he thought my boyfriend was honest, and that no one can ever love someone constantly, equally, at all times. It has to rise and fall and wax and wane to maintain its permanence. That is its permanence.
My boyfriend explained it this way: In German you can say “ich habe mich gerade wieder in dich verliebt,” which translates as “I just fell in love with you again,” but which actually means a moment when you realize again why you are in love with someone, an outburst of love.
My boyfriend’s parents live in the United States. They had to leave Germany after the war, though he was allowed to stay to complete his schooling. For years they lived an ocean apart.
TWO summers ago, when my boyfriend was out of the country and I was living a few hours from his parents, he suggested that I visit them. I welcomed the chance to meet them as a way to feel closer to him.
They invited their Balkan friends over and spoke Serbo-Croatian, and another barrier grew. But during my stay they were selfless in their care for me, and in fact I have visited them more in the last two years than I have visited my own parents.
One night during my first visit with them, his parents showed me a video of their son receiving an award at a ceremony in Germany. At the end of the ceremony he gave a speech, thanking everyone who had helped him. His mother translated the German here and there for me.
After a few minutes his father got up from his seat on the floor and sat next to me on the couch. “Do you know what he just said?” he asked.
I said that I didn’t.
“He said he would like to say hello to his girlfriend in America.”
My joy was a bit too obvious, as if all my sadness at missing him dissolved into this single phrase.
It was the Fourth of July and we walked outside together to watch fireworks, but we could barely see the blooming lights over the apartment roofs.
I told his mother I was happy about what he’d said, happy that he had remembered me at his award ceremony.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He said hello to me,” I said. “Didn’t you hear?”
“He didn’t say that,” she said.
I looked at his father and waited. He smiled.
“No, he was joking.” She turned to him. “Why did you say that?”
He put his hand on my shoulder and apologized.
Later I imagined he’d lied to me as a kindness, that we both shared a similar sense of longing and abandonment, and that it was the sort of lie he would have liked someone to have told him during all those years he had to be away from his son.

Jennifer Percy is a graduate student in Iowa City.

I read this article a while ago, from a blogger whose language I admire much. We converse once or twice, she- in a relationship with a man of different skin color, me - having been in one. We talked passionately for an hour plus. I remember

I could say "Fuck" in English and so can both of you - though the frequency tilts more towards me, but none of us can really say THAT particular curse in our mother tongue. I did say "I love you" and did not mean it to many people - even my non lover, even to a friend after I just did something really mean to him - almost like you suck but I don't mind it THAT much. However I only said "Em yeu anh" once in my life till now.

And I meant it, "Em yeu anh" - I love you with all my heart.

The particular person, said back to me "Mahal Kita" before whispered "Anh yeu em". He then insisted me on saying "Mahal kita". I remembered his utmost happy expression upon hearing it. 

There are as many ways to say "I love you" as the number of speaking languages in the world. But I believe there is only one correct way to say it. Say it as you mean it, not the hihi and haha blah blah for the sake of saving the situation, not the impure meaningless air out of your mouths which hold no weight in your heart. 

Say it, because you mean it.

I want to share this article with you, because it's simply applicable to all of us. How to say "I love you" in Thai? How to say "I love you" in Indonesian? We will soon fall in love, out of love and in love again - hopefully remain there till the last breath we take. Unlike Ferina who celebrates her boyfriend's birthday today, Ruam and I are still single. Chances are, we may get together with someone who do not share our mother tongue. Do take this lyric in totally different way

Saying "I love you, is not the words I want to hear from you...

If you are lucky enough to have a local boyfriend, please ask him to look at you in the eyes and say it
in his mother tongue
If he can, chances are: he really meant it, that he's worth living for. 

As for me, I trace back all my relationships, all of which you girls know better than any other... and find it purely ridiculous that I once, believed in a guy who said "I love you" in English to me, more pathetically through a message despite the fact that we are both Vietnamese. True enough, he did not mean it, he never meant it - and I am glad, now that I explain my hunch in words. Precisely what it was supposed to be.

Sometimes it hurts too much being a "Lit" girl, to cut those words open and see the rotten craps underneath such wonderful wrapping - to be more precise, it's like cutting yourself up again and again facing such hideous reality. However, sometime you thank your lucky star that you are gifted to see beneath all those layers of lies, the truth, the very very ugly truth... so that you can walk away, confront it all gracefully before the horrendous embarrassment hits those air-headed being - who never get what it means: "read between the freaking lines"

Having said that, I just want to leave my lengthy post with a few words for you girls, before I turn from bittersweet to absolute bitterness -.-"

Rachel yeu Ruam va Ferina... rat nhieu



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I, Being Born a Woman and Distressed
Saturday, March 20, 2010

WHOO. I am so super-duper excited about our new blog!!! XDDDD
The sad thing is, I havn't left my house in quite some time, so I don't have any exciting thing to blog about. Therefore, today I decide to share with you guys my favorite poem. It's by Edna St. Vincent Millay whom I like A LOT. Her voice is not quite feminine, nor feminist - it's just damn straight, honest and direct. What really impresses me is that in that honesty, that i-don't-care attitude, there's such a poignancy that allows you to connect with her emotions and her experience. It's a truly distinctive voice of a woman, and to imagine that she lived in those periods where women were expected to follow strict social just makes her all the more interesting and impressive. Ok, here's the poem:

I, Being Born a Woman and Distressed

I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn wtih pity, -- let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

I have actually wanted to post this in my blog, but I never quite find the chance so I decide to post it here instead. Hope you guys like it. And oh, I have some picture for you guys too ^^ hehe

(Picture's title: Because RuaM's the biggest)

Take care ok my darlings! Looking forward to reading more posts from you girls ;))))


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The Fringe Benefits of Failure, & The Importance of Imagination

It's a Saturday night and I just came back from a wedding. The music was bad (because some uncle took over the band and started singing -.-), the crowd was too packed (imagine sardines in a can), and the carpet was bumpy (because there cables underneath going everywhere). BUT the food was alright : P This is the second wedding in a row that I've attended since I'm home. The first one was completely different -- only family members and close friends/colleagues were invited. Moral of the story: I wanna get married ^.^ HAHA kidding. I am suddenly reminded of My Linh's dream Bollywood wedding. Ruam, FYI, we are gonna be sexy background dancers doing Kuch Kuch Hota Hay. My Linh will be riding an elephant with her beloved groom. I'll help with the catering -- will call Prata Cafe from Bukit Timah. Set!

All that nonsense above has nothing to do with what I'm planning to blog about tonight though. It's just that I can't think of a nice, philosophical, deep and meaningful introduction. Yes, I'm that pathetic : (

I just wanted to share this link with you -- it's a speech delivered by J.K. Rowling at the Annual Meeting of the Harvard Alumni Association. Now, you may think, wtf, I'm not in Harvard anyway. and screw all those Harvard people. True enough but the point is, she talked about the fringe benefits of failure, and the importance of imagination. I know it may not be the right moment to throw this at you two because both of you did well for A's and I'm really proud of you guys : ) but I think this speech may come in handy someday, somewhere, somehow...and not just to you guys but potential stalkers who may happen to stumble upon our blog.. just when you need that little boost of motivation, you can check this out.

Basically it's about how failure, as unpleasant as it may be, has fringe benefits. Through failure, one can discover how much willpower,how much focus, how much discipline one has to work even harder. It's definitely not comfortable -- Rowling had to suffer through poverty and support her daughter as a single mother while writing Harry Potter on an old typewriter. She also mentioned the power of imagination. Not necessarily the power to create and imagine stories like what she did, but also the power to imagine being in someone else's shoes and emphatise with them. What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality. And that is what I think makes us so human. If I am confusing you, I think just go read the speech transcript for yourselves : P

Personally, I wanted to touch on the topic of failure. As you all probably have known, I got straight Bs. So? When my sister told me on the phone, I was showering. I asked her, my voice quivering, "no As at all?" and she said, "nope. are you ok?" I couldnt help but cry. Honestly, I am disappointed with myself. I thought I could do better than average. I thought I could ace Math and Art. People have comforted me saying that I dont even need to think about it, I have gotten the Japan scholarship. They're not even asking for my A levels anymore. But me, being the BPL I am, Im still sulking about it. The worst part is, I know I've done my best. And it's freaking frustrating to not see the results when you know you have given your best shot. Maybe Im just not good enough. Just maybe.

Should just focus on the present, on what's in front of me. And right now it's my Japanese grammar books...

Ciao for now!!!


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The Story
Wednesday, March 17, 2010

The story

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...I was made for you

I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
You do
I was made for you

You see the smile that's on my mouth
It's hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what 
I've been through like you do
And I was made for you...

I could sit around, and list out a thousand and one (maybe two) reasons why I want to start this blog with my very best friends - most of which simply highlight how wonderful you two are. But then again... who doesn't know Ruam is too ridiculously unconditionally nice and Ferina is strangely absurdly one of a kind? So I should just keep it simple (before I make another spelling mistake again -.-" ) Mighty Rachel is one terrible writer - and she knows it.

I did smile listening to this song, thinking of how blessed I am - that I could celebrate the very birth of our T-Junction on the 17th of March, 2010 with you three. While now both of you are busy with colleges choices and future plans at the same time keeping your fingers crossed for me - the only one left who has not been accepted to any college, I work on this blog. 

Truly hope, our stories, would go on, no matter where we are, who we will become


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by dottedlini 2010 // visit her blog // thanks to him for the bg