You're turning 18. The big 1-8. You can get a car, a house, a husband and you can do stuff some of us cannot do. Yet. Like, uh, bungee jumping. Yeah. Bungee jumping.
You are like a gem. Hard to find, almost extinct, and I'm really thankful you're the person I can crap with.
Goodness, do I crap with a gem?
The bags and shoes mad girl. (I can tell you REALLY want that bag)
The girlfriend-two dimensional.
The wife-to-be aka DATIN of a datuk.
We heart you tonnes. Hugs, kisses and a lovely ice-cream infused cake.
On another note...
I don't care what anyone says now-I know I am blessed by God and I will not deny the fact that I am. It's been so long since I've had something to stir me, to wake me up and it took SPM results, friends leaving and returning from National Service and oil smears to do that.
I'm grateful for my results-though the conscience nags about that RIDICULOUS A2 in Arts. It's Arts, who frikin' gets a frikin' A2 in frikin' Arts? And the A2 for EST. It's EST, whhich English-speaking person gets a frikin' A2 in frikin' EST? Not anyone I know of. I get A1 in school exams for EST. So please tell me why the downgrading A2 in EST! (Not to brag but I heard it's hard to get A1 in EST but me EST essays are lightyears ahead of, oh, I don't know, the caterpillar! Go and ask my teacher, go ahead.) I'm still satisfied about the results, though.
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