tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756885812132809702011-08-27T22:30:47.822+09:00The Small GirlVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14060913702343813328noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75688581213280970.post-23173687150416847412009-05-20T19:45:00.002+09:002009-05-20T20:15:01.260+09:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4ynKHNjywAg/ShPmKQlwAwI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/QuwVjtUaWZg/s1600-h/TS3D0989.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337863047290553090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4ynKHNjywAg/ShPmKQlwAwI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/QuwVjtUaWZg/s400/TS3D0989.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>4 years flows as gradually and unconsciously as a forgotten ice cream. (We would lose our sweet tooth and forget the favorite ice cream if we were in the middle of the break up for instance.) My 4 years time is so much fast, is an ice cream that I am craving. The coldness inspired me. In this end of my 4 years time, a vague fear has already appeared. I know that the taste will no longer last and I will get nothing but the fat into my body. But I do not regret how I spent my 4 years. Wasting time was not wasted.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/75688581213280970-2317368715041684741?l=vanstalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14060913702343813328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75688581213280970.post-78061676651845025952008-12-31T01:38:00.002+09:002008-12-31T01:57:08.172+09:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4ynKHNjywAg/SVpSuTBkOsI/AAAAAAAAABg/S1T7RhEJBkg/s1600-h/DSC_0220.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285628068007000770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4ynKHNjywAg/SVpSuTBkOsI/AAAAAAAAABg/S1T7RhEJBkg/s200/DSC_0220.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4ynKHNjywAg/SVpPFevzw3I/AAAAAAAAABY/zKXFu9hQoxE/s1600-h/DSC_0210.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285624068244226930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4ynKHNjywAg/SVpPFevzw3I/AAAAAAAAABY/zKXFu9hQoxE/s400/DSC_0210.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> My <strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">3rd birthday cake in Japan</span></strong>... You can see my name there ^^.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div> The cake was simple but awesome with flossy sour berry cream, taste and smell was heavenly fresh. It was <span style="font-size:180%;">all about berries</span>, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, and uhm other I-don't-know-the-name berries. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/75688581213280970-7806167665184502595?l=vanstalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14060913702343813328noreply@blogger.com0