Marcella Purnama—Home, relationship, and lifestyle blog

May 02

It was the end of October on a Monday morning where I felt utterly lost and spent. All my university life I was planning my way out, thinking as soon as I threw away the student profession, I would be on my way to some grand adventures, on the path of success paved with gold, glitter, and bling.

It wasn’t, to say the least.

Like all the rest of Monday mornings, I woke up at 6.45am after trying to resist the temptation of snoozing the alarm once, and dragged my feet to take a shower and get ready for yet another day at work.

I had a full-time job, quite a well paid one in fact, and I was dragging myself to work.

That was not how I envisioned my first year of working life would look like.

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May 02

After months of writing and doubting and figuring out what to do, I have finally arrived at this stage: My first eBook, Swimming with The Sharks, will be available for download starting on May 23rd, 2014.

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May 02

Pam couldn’t stop biting her nails.

She had left this habit long ago in high school when the boys made fun of her. But today, especially today, she needed those nails back. It provided her with the familiarity that life was still what once it was. She needed to know that.

She sat there on the chair, legs crossed, eyes straight ahead. She couldn’t make what the young woman on the podium was saying. She couldn’t concentrate. Pam was biting her right nails, and her left hand squeezed a sheet of paper. She counted to ten. And again. And again. But she couldn’t help not thinking, couldn’t help not feeling.

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Apr 29

Ever since I discovered the haunting Hunger Games song by Taylor Swift last week, I have been infatuated with the trilogy all over again. It’s funny, because I didn’t fall in love with the series at the first sight.

In fact, reading my old reviews, I only give the books 3.5 rating. I remember being annoyed at Katniss for breaking down so many times throughout the second and third book, and how she couldn’t really decide between Peeta and Gale.

I guess, just like Finnick’s love for Annie, it creeps on me.

One particular part of the book that never leaves me is this: “You know, you could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him.”

This.

Which gets me thinking: do we deserve love?

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Apr 27

My first viral post aired last week with an expectation of having ten likes on Facebook. In five days, it has garnered over 40k views, over 9k Facebook likes, and over 3k picture tweets. It has caused my blog’s database server to undergo a rollercoaster ride – going up and down frequently over the first two days due to an overload of traffic.

Looking back, I never knew what I wrote would strike a chord to so many people. I wrote this post as a thank you letter to my boyfriend who always walks me home every time we go out. It doesn’t matter if it’s late, or if he’s tired, he always refuses not to send me home. He always wants to make sure that I’m safe and sound, and he does this even though he lives quite far – traveling one hour plus back to his place using public transport.

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Apr 22

Last year, my boyfriend flew home to Jakarta to celebrate my 21st birthday together. It is just ironic that today, on the eve of my 22nd birthday, I’m flying away from my dearest one.

Perhaps it can’t be helped. I’ve been in Singapore for over three weeks and in two days’ time I’ll be somewhere in Kalimantan. I need one day to recharge. That one day happens to fall on my birthday. And so I’m flying home, tonight.

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Apr 21

Date someone who walks you home. Someone who doesn’t mind taking the long route, the detour, the extra hour from the comfort of home. Someone who feels better if he knows that you’re safe and sound, before he kisses you goodnight and starts his other journey alone.

Date someone who walks you home. Who doesn’t do it when it’s convenient for him to do so, but who does it even though he needs to travel one hour and fifteen minutes back to his own place without the comfort of a car. Someone who does it, because he cares.

Date someone who walks you home. Someone who knows you are old enough to take care of yourself and to go back by your own, only to say no everytime you suggest he doesn’t need to send you home tonight. Date someone who sends you home not because he tries to be a gentleman, or has to become one, but because he wants to.

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Apr 18

It’s one week to the big day and three people have asked what I want for my birthday this year. Of course, they are my Mom, my big Sis, and my boyfriend. Yet I have no idea what I want.

If you have taken a peek at my childhood, you would have known that I love presents. Precisely, I love opening presents. Three months ago my baby nephew turned one month old and we held a celebration for him. There were lots and lots of gifts from various people. Guess who was the one who opened them? Nope, not my nephew (he’s one month old). Not even his mom (my sis) or his dad (my bro in law). But his auntie. Which is me.

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Apr 15

I have a confession to make: I hate reading inspirational stories.

Okay, perhaps hate is a strong word. And it is not entirely true either. No, I don’t really hate motivational stories. I don’t really loathe success stories. Yet everytime I read one of those stuffs which say, “If I can do it, so do you!” I can’t help but feeling my heart being jabbed with a thousand tiny little spikes.

It slaps me on my face and say instead, “What the hell are you doing with your life?”

Is it jealousy? Not really. It is just like those native dwellers who were content with their lives and yet still being forced to adopt the ‘advanced’ way of living. They were happy before. Everything was enough. But someone suddenly came and told them that this was no way to be living.

It feels just the same.

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Apr 11

I remember how you made me feel when I went to sleep last night.

It was happiness, but not like being-excited-happiness, which can go away as easily as it can come. No, it was more of being-peaceful-happiness, which made you smile as it caressed you until you drifted from reality.

It was like being comfortable in each other’s silence. It was like feeling the gentle wind kissing your cheek. It was like riding a car with the radio on while holding each other’s hands. It was like a small kiss planted on the back of your hand.

It was happiness.

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On being lost

I’m launching a FREE eBook!

Goodnight, Jon

We don’t deserve love

Five days of fame: Thoughts on ‘Date someone who walks you home’

On the eve of the big two-two

Date someone who walks you home

What I want for my birthday this year

Confession: Inspirational stories make me feel worse

The way you made me feel