Alright, when was the last time I really wrote in here?:P I know, it's been a long time. Lately, I've hardly had time for myself. Always for other people (my family and friends). Well, that's okay, as long as I'm still productive and not lethargic.
 But still, I miss my solitude. (And I'm stealing some of my so-little-free-time these days to write in here. Hehe.) Yesterday, I bought my favourite local newspaper KOMPAS again. I'm also still catching up on Andrea Hirata's "Laskar Pelangi" (The Rainbow Soldiers). I borrowed that from Hani like, weeks ago. It's her favourite.:) I'm not surprised, because the story is really enchanting. It's actually a non-fiction, based on the author's childhood memories in a school for the poor children. Despite their very, very unfortunate situations back then, ten students (the author and his nine friends) still got to have fun and be grateful about life. Truly inspiring.:D
 Well, I also still help around in the catering business. (These days, it's still the only way for me to earn money. For now, because I'm still looking for my dream job.:|) I have tons of ideas here inside my head, waiting to be written and desperately wanting to come out --- like those little blue pixies in cages during Professor Gilderoy Lockhart's class in "Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets".*giggles* Well, I must be able to concentrate well, even when I get my quiet solitude.
 Which means, I'm not letting myself get exhausted when the day ends.:| It's pretty tough, but that's what I'm mostly doing lately.
 *deep sigh*
 Just yesterday, all my Indonesian fellows and I were shocked by the news about the death of our former second president Soeharto.:O Right after spending about 24 days in RSPP (Rumah Sakit Pusat Pertamina - Pertamina's Central Hospital), South Jakarta --- Soeharto finally passed away at 1:10 pm yesterday. He was 86 years old (1921 - 2008 --> his birthday was June 21). Multi-organ failures, the doctors had told the mass media during yesterday's press conference.
 And just today, before Zuhur prayer, he was buried next to his late wife Mrs.Tien Soeharto's tomb. The funeral took place in Astana Giri Bangun, Karanganyar, Central Java.
 Well, I don't know what to say about this. The only time I ever got to really talk to him personally (and no, I am so not kidding you all here!) was a very long time ago --- back when I was still a third-grade student. Both my parents worked in IBM, and this company ran an event to introduce fun and educative computer programs for kids. My sister and I were the players too, wearing our school uniforms to show people where we studied. I guess fate had worked in funny ways, because at that time:

 1.Mom had suggested us girls to wear the green batik shirts and green skirts for that day, but my sister preferred her regular white shirt. (In our Islamic private grade school, white shirts were for every Monday to Wednesday and Friday --- while the green batik one was only for Thursday attendances.) Mom's instinct had probably been awesome, because I looked strikingly different in it --- among the other kids in white.

 2.I was meant to play the drawing program in the computer, but another kid wanted to trade that with his 'boring' program. I didn't mind, though, because the 'health-meter' wasn't as boring as he claimed. I was more interested in it as I began typing. (Although it didn't really help me with my poor math skills, because it was also like a calculator.) I got to know people's health-issues (like how I cringed at the computer's advice for me to reduce eating "ice-cream, chocolate, and sweets" and Dad's obesity problem.*big evil grin*)

 When that event took place in TMII (Taman Mini Indonesia Indah - Indonesia's Beautiful Mini Park), Soeharto showed up with his wife and Vice President Soedarmono (and of course, a battalion of special government agents!) Surprisingly, they just passed the other kids and came straight to my corner. Thump! my heart had skipped a beat. Dad calmly told me that Mr.President wanted to try the program.
 "Okay," I'd timidly replied. Soeharto had bent down next to me and I began asking him questions according to the electronic questionnaire. I was silently surprised at my own calmness. He was also being very friendly, as if I was his own granddaughter.
 But, when I got to the age section, I hesitated for a moment. Why? Because I'd been taught that it was (considered) impolite to ask someone older than you about their age. And my childlike mind simply worried that I might've insulted The President with that question.
 Oh, well. I looked up to his friendly, smiling face with my own shy smile --- but shot the question anyway.
 "How old are you, Sir?"
 They all laughed spontaneously. I was a little embarrassed, but thankfully --- Soeharto was still smiling at me. Then he answered:
 "Sixty-eight."
 I typed the digits and pressed enter. os record came out well. He looked satisfied to see he was still considered healthy, although he wasn't exactly that athletic anymore.
 Through my innocent eyes, that was how I'd seen him.

 The Author