As a single girl, it kills me to watch Hollywood movies. Hollywood loves the idea of finding love and exploits it hard both in good and bad ways! I can't speak for those that are in a relationship. Does Hollywood torture you too with exposing all of love's problems and dilemmas? Do they?
So here are my 3 most annoying moments about love, being single, and Hollywood (which actually means, I really want it to happen to me but there is no way in hell that it would!!!)
1. Sex and the City 2, the movie.
Aidan says to Carrie, 'You're not like other women'.
Now is THAT a pick up line or what? A man, like Aidan says to Carrie who is already wrinkled that she's not like other women, when in fact she shops for shoes rather than pay mortgage. She is so a like other women. Now Samantha is not like 'other women'. I bet you, Sarah Jessica Parker just needed to hear that and inserted it in the script!
2. Eat, Pray, Love
When the dude (can't remember the characters name) says to Liz 'You don't need a man, you need a champion!'. Yeah sure he didn't explicitly imply it for himself but come on! The hell with champions, lets go with Greek Gods who muscles to destroy the universe. Even Hades, god of the underworld that lives with demons and worms, has a great body! Which comes to my last moment.
3. Crazy Stupid Love
I just watched it. Loved it because Steve Carell was and is awesome (in every movie)! But that's not the reason this movie made it to this absurd list. It made it because Ryan Gossling just had to take of his shirt off!!! To be honest, he's a bit too big and muscular for me, but I'm not complaining. Like, how much crueler can you go? OH.... A LOT! He plays this womanizer that falls for the PG-13 girl. Right! *rolling eyes
And for the record, I think every man should have a classic 'Ray Ban' sunnies that suit their face. I swear it makes the face stay in its 20s.
Dear Hollywood, KMN! (Kill Me Now! Just learned it from The Big Bang Theory. Love it!!)
I’m back on Wetar and I’m ready to roam the rubble of the virtual world. I need to be in front of my computer screen more and play around with the Indohoy website. It’s a great positive energy to do the website, more than my likings besides watching the 3rd season of ‘the Big Bang Theory’. I so clique with those guys! I’m a geek!
On being more in front of my computer: I have failed my own challenge. I wasn’t able to maintain writing every 2 days, especially inline with my blog purpose to state the important. Apparently my life isn’t filled with important things. It’s filled with absurdity and non-sense. Well, be a little fair, significant important stuff isn’t a 24-7 thing. Even I need sleep!
So, I have failed this challenge with only succeeding 16 posts, and numerous delays. As much as I feel like a looser, I’m proud to make it as far as I did considering I have never thought that I can write something worth reading (I'm so Indonesian, seizing the best of the worst things :P). And I will still keep on blogging because I have too much to say anyways.
With this I close this failed challenge and hope that I will triumph the next.
Just thought I'd post these long loved friends. Remember this post?
Yeah, these babies are forever lost. They have accompanied me well. It is said that one loves like ones love of shoes. Being said that, I'm loyal. That's why I'm still in Wetar :P
Sometimes, I really like my life on Wetar. As I fold up my underwear to be stored, I had a warm fuzzy feeling about how nice life is as simple as it is. I have one room, and not one house. I don't do the dishes, the laundry, clean the bathroom, or floor of the house, and I don't even have to pay a certain person to do it. I chose to fold my underwear because I want to and I took all the time I have.
I also like the feeling that outside, there's an ocean. Although I can't jump in to it directly because there are river mouth crocs (and not the sandals), I like seeing the horizon, showing me that there's nothing in front of me every morning. The future does not exist.
I also like the fact that I lay bricks to think. I can choose and change meditation methods anyway I please. I have friends that are wise, funny, a pain in the ass. I look forward to sleeping in my double bed, my overly expensive pillow (although still cheap in its class), and my blanket since 2 years ago that keeps me warm from the AC that I don't really need. Most of all, I like the internet access right now, to share the simple things in life that I like.
I also like Steve Jobs for Sylvia. You just gots to love people driven by excellence :)
It’s between being curious and bored that really drives me to try and do something new. Wetar actually has more entertainment than Jakarta sometimes. It’s all a matter how creative one may be. Considering I’ve been here for almost 4 years, I must like the creative atmosphere the island is giving me :)
People always revert to the predictable entertainment and forget that there are other things to do. One thing that I can do on this ‘developing establishment’ is participate in surgeries. I’ve seen the removal of a lipid lump on an employee’s back, with his permission of course. It was a horrifically interesting. Doctors are sadists and we need them to be.
One of my most entertaining experience was spending 3 hours cutting Jack’s balls off. Now, calm down, Jack is the bosses pet dog. So it was OK to have a non-medical staff to help out. So, I dragged myself to the clinic to see such a fascinating ‘show’. For guys, they really think I’m a sadist since I helped out and I must be some man hater or lesbian, but I'm neither. I love men :D. For me, balls or no balls, it was exciting to see a surgery. Yes, it was that boring and I was that curious. It wasn't any different to the other surgeries I've seen but the guys, including the doctor, seem to squirm of the process. Not to mention, he hates dogs.
Now this particular experience might not apply to all sites or jobs or situation or whatever, but let be noted that you can find something to entertain yourself. You just gotta do it.
If cutting balls is not your thing, maybe the typical entertainment is really for you like watching people get drunk, having a karaoke sessions, and learn how to slow dance :D
I realize that the people that I work with on Wetar are half nuts. They’re a bit extreme compared to the usual guys. Some might like fighting, some might like the challenge, some… well… perhaps will do anything. In short, they’re fearless. I elaborated this fact to another friend that works in mining. He concurs.
“Us field guys are already half dead once we’re here” says a co-worker. Sounds pretty harsh but it’s partial true.
Once a man, or in my case a woman, steps out of their home, there’s no guarantee that he or she will come back. With the risk of a long journey into the remote and a high risk at work, the odds are really not on their side. My friend also taught me that people in this line of work would do almost anything to survive, including staying sane which involves alcohol and paid sex. While the spouses have to accept the possibility that everytime they wave goodbye, it might be the last. It’s tough for both ends.
On this, I think I’ve changed a tad bit. I think now I care less whether someone is higher in rank or not. All I care about is that people do their jobs. If they don’t and it makes me suffer, then I’m crossing the line. I half dead already, right? I might only be as far as ‘sharp comments and emails’, but some of my buddies here can put a sharp object in mouths to make a point. Do they care about the consequences? Not as far as you would think, but again, it’s all to survive.
I have a lot of respect to those that have chosen or are stuck with this line of work. It takes a lot of sacrifices.
My respects to Wilson Sibarani, a geologist that died in the Manado heli crash in 2011 when heading for work. We had a short time together buddy, but it sure was fun!
I really like having different kinds of friends. There’s so much color in life if you do. Don’t you agree? And most of the time, you can get the best out of it, rather than the bad. I just try to avoid the bad.
One of favorite kind of people is the Christians. I really like being friends and working with Christians. Of course I can’t say that I like them all, personalities wise, they’re random. I particularly like them when having meals with them. Christians usually pray just before they eat. They do the whole cross thing and then say a deep prayer to the Lord before chow down. I’m usually already on my second spoon once this happens, and then I’m reminded to say Bismillah at lease before I gulp my third spoon of food.
I like being reminded like this, seeing an example and seeing that It’s been done by ease. I should be able to do the same, right? A friend of mine once dared me if I can find a better way to teach people comparing to setting as example. I was gonna say doctrine, but the aftermath of this method is never pretty. In the end, I couldn’t answer it.
Because Moslems never have this particular ritual before eating, thus we never passively remind each other to pray before meals, let alone actively. We chow down without hoping the food is kosher, is good for you and such. We’re more consistent with gratitude by saying ‘alhamdullilah’ after the burp of satisfaction.
Because I’m reminded this so many times by the Christians example, I realize that I almost never remember praying before meals. And so, I like being friends with them, at least for the sake of saying a prayer. So much for being a wannabe spiritual person!
Popping zits is a mini excruciating task that many girls do. Hell, even more guys do it now since appearance has become something more important lately compared to the past. We’re not supposed pop ‘em to but we do. The thing about popping zits is, it hurts but it’s an addictive thing you just gotta do. There’s something about puss (is it puss?) that needs to be pushed out for the sake of our satisfaction. We break the rule for puss.
Tissue used after popping my zit.
This also applies to black heads usually found on someone’s face or back. It’s an achievement without a certificate. We shout ‘yes!’ under our shaking breath of pain and keep pushing the content out. For girls, it has become a necessary activity as eating rice to the Indonesian. Even girls with the most treated faces have angst to touch zits or black heads once it starts to show itself.
But the pain? Oh the pain! It hurts so much like a little pinch by the nails. We cry during the release in facial session. Is this the price of beauty? We nod gently deep down in our hearts and shed another tear. Then multiply so many in one session every month. For those that can afford it and have the time, once a month torture is worth it. It amazes me that girls can bare so much pain? And about sulking sadness, it’s like we like it. We crave it and prolong it. Cry for some attention maybe?
From shallow to too deep, I figured it doesn’t take much for people to see the difference of pain bearing between men and women. As spoiled as women are, they can bare pain. Some shed more tears than others, but most of us understand enduring the pain better than the opposite sex. Sure we sulk and cry and moan and complain, but we can get through it, and sometimes prolong it more than men. Heck! We’d do it again. A hole in the face because of force excretion is proof that one can stand so much pain. And I haven’t even begin with other pains such as waxing, eyebrow sculpting, and hazards of using an eyeliner. Women were made for pain even though we express it a lot. Men might not show it, but can I doubt that they can endure more?
I was going to post something else, but I changed my mind.
If life is a journey of experience, then today is a first. I finally met a point where I don't like the company I'm working for. I still like some of the people and I still love my job, but I don't like the management. Cliche I know. It's my second steady job and I'm facing the same problem as I did my old job. I liked my boss and I liked my job, but I didn't like how he managed everything. For God sakes, I had to iron his clothes, while his teenage girlfriend left after the hangover.
How do people deal with this?
I've asked the only female boss here, how she chooses work? She had so many different businesses and work. She works tirelessly and seems like she can still keep on going. I asked her how would you know if you've had enough? Her answer was simple. She woke up not liking it and that is the sign to just quit.
In my case, I didn't hate this company when I woke up ( I have a killer bed, thanks company!), but I couldn't concentrate at all during work. I actually cried in front of the computer, replying an email concerning one of the problems I have. How could I not? I saw a man had to resolve his problems unfairly. And when it comes to this company, he's not the only one that had to suffer. Not to mention, the unsatisfying way of getting things resolved. And I hate to see my friend, a good man, be treated like that. Apparently, he didn't like it either. He resigned. And that's why I cried.
The hardest thing about blogging is you have to be an opinioned person. A blog is a say of something, no matter how big or small it is. It’s a statement!
With a challenge like this (the 30 writing challenge) I realized I have to be more opinioned more than I would like to. I have to pick a topic and state something every 2 days. I’m usually am a verbally opinioned person. I will talk and talk as my imaginations in my head rolls through. However, my sense of importance is a bit off. I can blab forever about everything unimportant and hold my peace about something that has some level of importance; or I would say it to someone else hehehehe… unless someone asks about it.
Bur writing about is a whole different story. It’s pretty hard since it’s a whole different process compared to verbal opinion. You need to systemize what you're gonna say and how you say it, so that reader can understand your point with one read through. But I guess it is good practice.
So here’s my latest opinion on things. Raybans, can’t go wrong with them. These are my boss's original Raybans. I feel cool wearing them! Even with a ragged shirt!
I had a dream the other night. Some random dream that involves expensive pillows, weed, and my favorite item… AGNES MONICA!
I’ve followed her since the beginning of her carrier as a child star. She’s grown up now and she’s all woman, stated by her predictable shift of image to a more lusty look. It’s not that hard to follow her development. She always makes news with whatever she does.
I hate her as much as I love her. I still adore her because she’s in a league of her own. For the time being, no one can compete with her. She dances, has style (I didn’t say it’s always good), and she has a good voice (which is more than enough to be a singer in Indonesia). She dances how a dancer is expected, her body has come to a point where it moves naturally. Not a lot of people have that, even dancers. You have to love dance and music to be able to dance like her (a concept apparently, a lot of people don’t get!!!) And the most important thing that I love about her, is her attitude. She’s a snob and she knows it. And no one can shove her words down her throat because she is the best so far. Admit it!
What I hate about her is that she copies so many Hollywood stars TOO literally. I hate any artist that does this (such as Giring Nidji, and videos of Rizal Mantovani, etc). It’s an insult to my hours in front of the television and to my intelligence about the Pop world. Come on! We know you copied it. You think no one will know? Seriously?? What else do I hate about her… umm… her voice character isn’t very pleasant for high strong notes, she shouldn’t use it too much… just saying. And for only these 2 reasons I hate her as much as I love her. Yes, that’s how much I hate her for insulting me. So it’s a 50-50 thing.
But after browsing her website gallery www.agnesmoicaofficial.com and this site here, I have increased my percentage on loving her than hating her, just because of this particular picture. She’s wearing batik in her own way. Look at her! No matter how chic the others are, they're bland. They're all predictable outfits. Nothing special about it. And her? Over the top with Indonesia's finest!
She’s still one of us and proud to be one. She understands her fan base is in Indonesia and the country itself (with such poor quality pop artist) is what made her what she is. I’m so proud of her for using batik when she can easily wear something else. She bares batik gifts, and she knows she is the ambassador for Indonesia. But that's what I think, of course. Hopefully she can one day be www.indohoy.com ‘s ambassador too. *dream
Uploaded the next day because the internet couldn't upload the photo.
No, I’m not going to ramble about the usual issue of women independence as I usually would in this blog. This is purely about the commemoration of our Indonesia’s Independence Day.
This is Pak Mikael. Yes, that is how you spell his name and it’s not a typo. Pak Mikael just threw up on the concrete floor after running about half a kilometer, in the group race I organized to commemorate the nations Independence. This was also after I made him, and other runners of his lag, sing first before the next runner can continue. Singing after running is no trip the park, hey? (Myihihihihi… I’m so good of making challenges for other people). He was totally hesitant to participate, but once we found him teammates, he was all in. For a man of his age, after numerous soccer games during previous days, and having sore butt muscles, it’s amazing how he could ever make it in the first place. You got to salute the dude’s spirit to celebrate!
I felt bad encouraging him as I saw him lay there. But looking at him, he’s blessed with something called ‘fighting for a cause’. He kept running, no matter how slow, for the sake of the rest of his teammates. For a few seconds Pak Mikael understood how he fought for something bigger than himself to a point where the contents of his stomach chose to rebel against the flow of digestion and spill out on the pavement. He fought. He didn’t give up and complain. He just almost fainted, that’s all.
Today, we all enjoy the benefits of the 66th Independence Day. As the second generation to enjoy this state of freedom, I can say that most of us have no idea what it felt like during the war. How people are in constant lost of everything including lives. Little do understand how bad a war is, how much it takes and how it does not give. I hear this all the time in school but never really understood what it meant.
Have you? Wait… that’s not right. Have I been like this? Hardly. That day, I was just standing on the sidelines. I just stood there and realized that if I did love this country, I would have to reach such a point in my life, as Pak Mikael did on that concrete floor. And even though this race is worthless to the state of the nation, his participation shows that he rejoices the good spirit to commemorate the independence his founding father gave him. Well at least I got something out of it. His vomit was not a waste.
You know what? With one deft person on his team (second from the right) that needed primordial sign language to past his question at his post, Pak Mikael and teammates did an excellent job. Guess what place did he and his team mates come in?
I’ve failed my own challenge. Ugh the shame! My ‘30 writings for practice’ flopped just when it started. I was just at number 6, and in human years that’s merely primary school. Graduation is still a long way to go. I’m disappointed in myself. It did start to fail because the internet connection failed me bad (Man, I’m so tired of complaining about the internet onsite). But it ended with me being too lazy to restart it when I was in the city a.k.a in access to the web. I didn’t even write and stock up to practice. So much for my strong will.
But, since this is my challenge and I am again determined slash bored on site, I decided to reinstate my challenge again. This is also due to the fact that there is internet connection in my new room. Yay! (I’m surely easily satisfied, and yet I’m still single. Why is that?) Therefore, this post will be umber 7 with no particular theme at all.
Why start again? Well, I definitely do need the practice. I don’t plan to stop writing anytime soon. To the least, I will still be writing for www.indohoy.com, so I will I still need to do this. Second of all, I’m that type of person that’s too damn optimistic sometimes. I don’t know when to stop even if it’s already too ridiculous to continue anyways. This challenge bids no harms so it’s ok to have too many pluses in my head for it.
To add to that, I’m really liking the writing of the Unbrave girl. She writes really long post on her blog, and clearly what she needed to say is not for the screeners. She provides a nice long read for the afternoon. But what I like about her writing is that she’s funny. She ridicule herself to a point that isn’t harmless and you chuckle reading her post. It’s not a drop dead funny thing, it’s just funny enough to want to read more. Oh how I can write like her, but don’t tell her that cause she doesn’t like being an inspiration to anyone khihihihihihi….
So, hear ye! Hear ye! It’s back on! See you in 2 days.
(Man! Writing is hard, especially if you’re on a deadline. Inspiration is not something you can evoke under command. Is it true that you can train yourself to be inspired? Well I missed 2 schedule and now I’m back on track.)
It’s the fasting month and it has been 7 days since the first fast. Hmm… life isn’t much different here on Wetar during these days, there isn’t much work anyways. I can say that the nights roll faster now that we have to do the tarawih. Oh how I wish the days would too. Unfortunately, we have to break fast at 6.40 here in Wetar. It’s long summer days in the east.
Speaking of tarawih, I’ve been thinking. During these 7 days, my co-workers, who aren’t ustadz but religion enthusiasts, have been giving the 7 minute preach, known as Kultum (Kuliah Tujuh Menit), in between prayers. And I must confess, I’m bored and I have the interest of kid to school book on a Friday night. It’s not that the message isn’t good, or useful. It’s a text book preach. And sometimes, they take it literally by reading a few pages from a book. Now, I think reading can do no harm, but we can always pick up a book ourselves and read. We don’t need someone at a podium reading it to us when we just ate a portion of rice and struggling to stay awake. We need to be inspired.
People take preaches too serious. The fact is, the best preaches or public speaking are those that have a personal touch and easy daily examples on how we can apply the holy sayings. The speaker adds that X-factor making a speech not something to just hear, but to feel thus understand. I’m full of it, aren’t I? I might be. Clearly, I am no speaker that can bring a mountain down by one sentence. But I am a good listener which makes up a good follower, which is the essence of a leader, for without followers s/he is just a common mortal.
So I’ve given it some thought, and I think I may just the muse and material for my next blog. Until 2 days!
Due to slow internet connection, sorry, no pic today guys :(
There is nothing wrong about being spiritual (or religious in some cases). Worshiping a higher power, may it be God, nature, science or that rock on some hill, can give you a sense of peace. Although some prefer it as ‘finding another entity to blame things on and not taking all responsibility’, I still believe that sometimes there is nothing wrong with that!
But I am not going blame anyone or anything today. I’m actually going to be thankful. Today, I came home from lunch and I walked to my room by the beach and felt very blessed. I felt that God (since I am still a believer) has been very kind to me in the past 2 years. And today, She kinda extended Her finger, stoke my curly hair a bit, and said ‘Enjoy this second’ without any ‘but’s, ‘until’s, or anything negative following the sentence.
During these 2 years, I have lazed around, and most of the time in exotic places, Wetar included. I have traveled to dreamlands (my dream destinations and not the beach in Bali, although it is awesome) and have the opportunity to do less yet still getting paid. I lived half my life beside a relatively quite beach with no tourists on it, sleep to the occasionally rambling noise of the waves, inhale ocean air daily, walk, and hang around people with a high sense of humor. Today in particular, the power was out for 3 hours, which means no work. And there will be a marathon this afternoon, so I’m skipping work again for that to have a little fun in the sun.
Wait, you didn’t think I was running the marathon did you?
I have to admit I get bored and my IQ has not been challenged for a while, which actually is the price the company I work is paying me for. And I realize once things are up and running, these happy faces will be gumpy –I’m gonna make you regret you were born- faces. But at certain days, like today it felt more of a blessing than it is a loss.
I don’t think that people praise the Lord enough. Well at least not the people in the typical stable work force that I know. I think they praise Her in typically and live life as it suppose to. You work, play, have a family, and live life as how everybody else does it. After meeting too many people you realize that there isn’t a ‘suppose to’ scenario. Life is chaos! Big and small. If you have a good life and peaceful inner being, then believe me, you are blessed. No matter how boring, or dumb, or in my case, lazy isolated in a neglected island, you are, if you’re good than it’s time for you to take a second and be deeply grateful to the entity that you believe in.
So today, I acknowledge by gratitude towards God for being so nice. She is the almighty and wisest being and I surrender my soul. If there comes a day that I will be crying my lungs out again, I will know that it’s all part of a complex scenario which I will not give up on and still hold responsible for. There are no exact words to express my grateful state of being at this moment. I just am.
By the way, I use the term She for God and not He because I’m not a guy, never have been, so I wouldn’t understand applying male traits on my higher believes. I would only have my girlish understanding of Her… but will discuss that on another day.
PS: I am happy to report that I was on schedule on the writing. Unfortunately, the internet connection was not in my agenda favor. But the program is still on!
My day ended a little late today. I decided to watch my fellow co-workers play soccer in Lurang, the near by village (about a 30 minute slow drive). It’s a great reason to leave the office early and also well, Wetar doesn’t offer much entertainment so anything will do.
For more than 2 hours I stood on the sidelines, watching 2 soccer matches roll through on the dirt field. It was as entertaining as I expected. Wetar supporters are hilarious! They entertain me more than the players it self. They get mad… wait, let me rephrase that… they’re always furious when the player doesn’t play according to their likings. They make these weird cheering sound like birds fighting over a territory. And the best part is, the loud ones are usually women.There was nothing too special about the game except for the usual spectacular sunset closing the day.
Once I got back to camp, I had dinner and head home to shower. I was a bit in a hurry. I wanted to watch the finals of the table tennis match, the company made to commemorate the upcoming Independence Day.
After the shower and putting on some clothes, I applied my usual lotion. Just when I was almost done, I realized, I was in a hurry getting ready JUST to watch a tennis table match?! It felt like I was getting ready to hang out and catch a movie with friends in the city. It really did! Ok, maybe it was slightly different. I didn’t have my usual eyeliner and blush on (which I really like putting on) and I wasn’t wearing heels. Plus, I didn’t have the worry about getting a taxi either. But the sensation of getting ready under a limited amount of time simulated a night out.
As I rushed to the tennis table match that has not started, I’m more and more convinced that I wasn’t doing anything different than what I’m used to back in Jakarta and Bandung. So life can be the same as what we experience back home. It doesn’t have to be entirely the same but close enough. And it’s all a state of mind. All you have to do is embrace it, follow what it presents you and it will be as colorful as a clown suit. I could have just stayed in my room this afternoon and showered as I liked, had dinner, and watch the game. But, I chose to do things differently. I chose to live like back home.
It was really similar to going to the movies. For what I have found when I got to the crime scene, was a video projector blasting on a white wall, ready to show a soccer game. Now, for an island like Wetar, it can’t get any closer to a cinema than this.
(I’ve just started this challenge and I’m already slacking off. Sheez! Says a lot about me and deadlines. Change of rule. The writing will be uploaded the day after the due date).
Although verbally I have moderately good English, I'm a lousy English writer. It's not that I don't make sense, which I would still do even though I would be able to write, it’s more of my grammar that reeks to the core. I've put ikansapi into too much pain already checking for mistakes in my writing. The amounts of revisions are shameful, shameful I tell you! *Face in hands.
After the recent assignment to write a feature in a magazine not long ago (*ehem smug), I realize I have to challenge myself to practice. So here goes. I challenge myself to upload a writing every 2 days for 2 months. Hmm... 30 writings… I’m intimidated :P. It’s predicable that I got this idea from ikansapi. She loves challenges! I also got this idea from a Brooke Schoenman , a travel writer that challenged herself to upload a writing EVERY SINGLE DAY ABOUT TRAVELING! Jes (the Latin ‘yes’, not a typo), there is much to be said about traveling. But writing about it, or about anything actually, takes in a lot of effort. Being that said, this task is nothing original (but what is besides Nescafe original 3 in 1 coffee that taste blegh!? I would still drink it though), but will still be hard for me that usually blogs once a month.
So what’s the tizzle of this chizzle (target of this challenge)? Well, to improve my grammar of course! And to make myself familiar with English writing, terms, getting use to express my thoughts and points, and to be able to cook (which is totally out of topic but I’m just saying).
One of my tactics to ace this task of mine is to write slower. I wish I was a high paid executive secretary so I can type 3 gazillion words in 10 seconds, but I’m not, and my job doesn’t demand it. But apparently when I write, I imagine being one. I’m not sure why. I write really fast and I miss letters, words, and my favorite button is the ‘backspace’. Then it becomes more of a ramble than something worth reading. I don’t think being able to type fast is cool, but I just wanna be able to catch whatever is in my mind (wow, I just typed that sentence without any ‘backspace’, such an achievement! Trumpets, please!). I’m a scatter thinker and ideas are easily found as they easily disappear. So, I have to catch those ideas while they’re in my head but it really doesn’t help the quality of what is actually being said. Am I already in circles?
During and after the challenge I will evaluate the writings with my English teachers (including ikansapi if she is willing) and see the progress I have made. Writings will include blogs here (still in line with the idea of this blog), Indohoy writings, and other things that will probably be mentioned here … but not necessarily. I will, however, report if I fail to miss a writing schedule.
To whoever you are, you’re welcome to criticize and give advice. I’m all for it. Just don’t pick your bellybutton and then tell me about it. That’s just wrong. *Slap! (Ok.. Ok… I’m back on track) I hope the slogan practice makes perfects work here.
By the time you reach this sentence, consider yourself already involved in the challenge. You just read my first writing. What did you think 'Mister with mask and goggles on underwater'?
Yaps I’m 31 today. And how is it being 31? Well to be honest, it’s no different than any other day J. It’s not a drastic change like turning from 20 something to 30 something. It’s just today. And I did pass the day as an ordinary day.
Or so I thought?!
After dinner, surprisingly, the guys prepared a little ‘fun’ for my B’day. They ambushed me with raw cake dough, flour, and cake icing. Then of course we had a little war, which ended with a few ‘casualties’, but it was all fun. I looked like a horrific witch after the war with my hair all curly and big.
I don’t know why the guys think that I don’t deserve a nice sweet birthday party, one with a cake, friends surrounding, candles, decorations, and PRESENTS!!! What kind of girl do they take me for? Ugh! Khihihihi… No seriously?!
Man, I had to wash my hair 6 or 7 times just to get the egg stench out of it. Blegh! And I’m still not convince that it’s all out. Some of my hair feels different. Is it suppose to feel like this?
But I couldn’t stop smiling in the shower. It was an awesome 30 minutes, just the right closure for the night. And you know what, no one is too old for this. One can be to ‘serious’ but never too old. I’m glad everyone had fun; and a second shower!
So, I heard they’re making it in to abbreviation: HBD? Come on people! Really?! Make some effort to write ‘Happy Birthday!’
It’s been a while since I’ve blog. I’ve been avoiding it since I didn’t know how to write about this specific topic although I eventually had to. But now, I’m ready.
So, not only blogging, it’s also been a while since I’ve slept in my own bed in Bandung. I’ve been sleeping my parent’s bed. Not because I want to cramp up my parents at an inappropriate age. It’s because my father died about 2 months ago, and I’ve been keeping my mum company in their bed.
My father is the nicest man in the world. He died while taking an afternoon nap at home, alone. Mum just stepped out to do her usual exercise and came home to find dad gone still in bed. No fuss, no diseases, no hospitals, no nothing. He just stepped out. I so wished that he didn’t go alone, but that’s just how nice he is. And knowing him, that’s how he wanted it. He never wanted to hassle anyone.
I’ve learned so much from the death of my father. That probably sounds weird since I should be devastated and crushed and yada yada yada, but it’s the truth. Of course, it broke my heart that my father is no longer around. Home is different without his presence. It’s the little things that remind me that he no longer is around. His pants are no longer hang behind the master bedroom door, there is no cup on the coffee table in the afternoon, the study desk isn’t a mess by his notes and scattered newspaper, and so many other little things that justifies he’s no longer here. But I’ve learned more than I lost.
I learned that community living is such a great thing compared to the individual life. I’ve learned that I was more prepared than I thought I would be. I’ve learned that my mother is an unbelievable woman who is far stronger than I am, no matter how solid I look. I’ve learned that the amount of people that come to your funeral and what they say reflects what kind of person you really are. I also learned more about my father from the people that send their condolences. Just a short list to the many other things I discovered out of this event. I’m sure I’ll blog them one by one in the future, just not today. So, I’m a kid without a father, and that’s what it’s gonna be. And this entry is a ‘just saying’ blog. Oh well…
And guess what? He checked out on a Saturday night, just as my grandfather did not long ago. I’m sure there’s a social thing going on here :P
This is an ikat cloth that was given to me by Ida, a local Wetar girl that came from Alor. Her grandmother gave it to her. Now before you start hating me because I'm so cruel to take this away from her, hear me out.
I fell in love with it the first time I laid my eyes on it. Not only because it had colors that I don't see often in an ikat store, but also because Ida was wearing it on a regular basis making it really wearable. She was wearing it in the kitchen one ordinary day. I stared at it for some time. I couldn't take my eyes of it. I told her I was so sad that her grandmother made it for her, and I wouldn't ask for it since it had personal values.
The same day, later in the night, Ida came to see me and gave it to me. I couldn't accept it. But she insisted, explaining that her grandmother makes a lot of these and it's alright to let one go. I was overwhelmed.
It's a bit heavy. It slides down a bit every time I use it, but really comfortable. I some times use it as a blanket on hot nights. Mozzies love me. To be honest, wearing it made me feel feminine, elegant, and
very traditionally beautiful.
Which comes down to the current day. I bought another 2 ikat while traveling Flores. I couldn't help it. I fell in love instantly with these two (the small one is just a small ban to tie your waist). I considered hard before buying any of them. Where and when can I use them? Can I take care of them? Is the hassle worth the buy?
My considerations ended to 'I can use it at home' on lazy days. It's the only time I can use it in the city. I can't imagine using it in to town. Not because of stares, but of impracticality.
Then I worry. For someone that loves these hand made treasures, I can only wear them at home. And yet, those like me aren't very much. People are letting go of this tradition. I worry, how can we preserve it if we don't care?
Thinking of what Cindy said, humans skin are so bland of color and texture. Maybe we were not suppose to have this bland cover. Maybe our ancestors were right with their colorful sarongs and ikats and batiks. It was never bland for the elder generation.
The native people of Flores that have been exposed to the modern life still use it because they are still tied to many obligations such as: one must have one when wed and one must wear one during traditional ceremonies which they still hold. However, when talking to these so called modern types, I get the vibe that they would leave this tradition if they could. I detected this vibe, just underneath the surface. What do us city folks have obligation to? None.
I'm trying to find a solution. A solution on how we can wear ikats, or batik or what ever traditional cloth we've made in the past, more practically. Theoretically, these cloths are results of a long research by our ancestors which considered the climate, the activity and such. But now... well... we don't do as what our great grand parents did, so should we leave it all behind too?
This doesn't conclude anything. It's a ramble of my concerns of old tradition I wish I knew how preserve. The most important question is always how?
My grandftather died last Saturday night. He went out that night (badam-bam-ching!). He was my mums father. I didn't know him well because he lives in Makassar, and I only drop by about max. once a year.
All I know is that he was a man that means well, very stubborn, and loves to 'shout' rather than use the human friendly frequency (I wonder if I'm part dolphin?). But I do remember, as a kid, he use to take care of me when mum needed to multitask. He's a great nurturer to kids, especially when he was still a bit younger and stronger. He still took great care of my cousins when they were little which wasn't long ago.
My mum is getting older. I was anxious how she would deal with it. I just called her. She seemed to have a sore voice, I suspect because of some deal of crying. I asked her where she was at the time, I was ready to calm her down... and this was her answer:
"Oh iya Nuni (my nick), ini Mami lagi makan-makan ama semuanya. Makan coto." (Oh yes Nuni, I'm just and eating out with the family. Eating Coto.) In the background I could hear my aunts laughing, my uncle joking around, and I bet my dad was just keeping his cool as always. With a bit of a jaw drop, I wondered, so... where's all the tears? Beats me, but I'm glad they accepted it well. Death is part of lives, and it's not something we can reverse. They do say, it's easier to cross over if no one cries for you too long. So I guess my mum and whole family wants grandpa to cross peacefully.
He did die at home, which is a good thing, and because he was really old. It was his time I guess. I know that they love him, as hard as he was. I sure do even though I didn't know him that well. I have one or two memories of him taking good care of me, and at least without him, I wouldn't be here.
It was a night when I dropped by Renny's house, a co-worker, when Rudhy was also there. We happen to just chat and just had to use a bit of imagination to survive another night in Wetar. We were talking about how the docter got a bike from the company for his needs. We had a little fun with that fact. Once you know it, Renny almost fell off her seat of laughing, I couldn't stand up straight because I was laughing so hard, and Rudhy's eyes looks like a frown. Renny applaud my wild imagination. And with that, I started wondering, maybe I am a bit funny. I also started thinking, why do I have to follow my funny gene, especially since I 'understand' that being funny is a masculine trait?
3 months later ...
I recently went to Timor Leste to visit Inge, a college friend, since her hubby happen to work in this country. Inge is a lovely delightful humorist gal. She might look mean, but trust me, she's a leaking bucket a.k.a ember bocor! So, during my 4 days 6 night stay there, I had a lot of laughs. And by a lot I mean A LOT! Not to mention Edmund, her hubby, was in town and he too had a competing sense of humor. So all we were was a bunch of silly people that like to use our imagination and laze our days out.
One night, we decided to have Indian (South Asia not America, although it would be awesome to have native American food,ohh.. FOCUS!) cuisine. Yes, Timor Leste has tonnes of affordable (by the expat community) yet delicious International restaurants. Anyways, we were waiting on our food when we started to be... umm... sarcastic; I can't really say funny cos we were kinda making fun of the Indian culture. And suddenly, my stomach cramped up because we were so funny.
As I sit there holding my stomach of ache and looking at Inge, laughing so hard I think she peed a bit (isn't hard to hold it in when you're 6 month pregnant?), I realize, hmm.. maybe I am a bit funny?
I'm not sure why lately, during these laughs, my epiphany pops up. It's probably because I think that people don't have a hard laugh as often once they get older. I try to 'analyze' (ok ok... sue me for trying to figure things out) and see how we can have these sessions more often. My conclusion so far, most of the time, it does take a comedian to have a lot of fun.
I always though I have friends that are much funnier than I am. I always have a blast laughing with them, and at their jokes, sarcastic or not. So I always thought maybe I can be spared from one masculine trait: being funny. Because of these 'incidents', I thought wrong. Funny, I am, a bit.
Being said that, I need to find a gay guy trapped in a straight mans taste, or else I'll be single fo'eeeeevvvvvvaaaaaaaaa.... :(( but have a few laughs along the way :P (I just had to)
I have come to the part of my life where everything is out of control.
It all started from when I wanted to attend a very good friends wedding. There is only a slim, as slim as paper, chance that I can make it now. There's a storm in the area. And I can't book my own boat to sail out for the sake of this occasion for whatever price it may be. The people that usually would risk lives wouldn't even go and they too have already surrendered to what nature wants.
Jodoh, or soul mate, or THE ONE, is still missing. Although people say I don't try. I do. I dress up, I meet new people, I try to be charming. It's not working. After seeing so many chick flicks on my Sylvia screen, I've come to a point that I give up. And I really can't force myself to somebody. I just can't, and you can see it instantly in my gesture if I'm not interested. I don't know how to force anyone to be my guy. Even if I do, eventually I'm sure he wouldn't like my white lie or me for that matter.
I've been paying a mortgage of a small flat in Jakarta. My very first huge investment. It's finished and now it's under a bit of decoration. All which I didn't decide upon. My parents did. Since they're helping me on the payment terms, it's going to be our family house in Jakarta. So what they say on the decor is final. My dad even got mad at me just because I wanted to change one of my walls in to plain dark gray and not with patterns. Even I can't control the inside of my own house.
I had a stressful day yesterday. Literally... eh I mean physically. My body showed symptoms of a stressed person. My acid levels were high, my lower chest was burning, I had diarrhea, and the fever, all in a day. I knew it was stress and not some illness because I knew I had something in mind. My friends wedding, and how this company sucks at the moment, no taking care of me, it’s employee. I surely didn’t think about it too much since I’ve learned how to accept the circumstances of Wetar. However, my body is trying to tell the truth. I can’t control my body.
So basically I have no control of the essentials of my life at the moment. Usually the case would be that I won’t take control of my life because I don’t want to and I’ll let things flow. But just when I wanted … I couldn’t. Ain’t life a big Srimulat stage? Slapstickly funny!
I've had this thought for some time and most of the people around me know about it already since I've repeated it over and over. But it's pure genius I tell you! A perfect blend of the west and east culture, in the harmony of something so essential to us all... I'm talking about the flushable squatting toilet with hand pump and toilet paper (this applies better on public toilets).
For a girl, this toilet is the ultimate invention! I'm surprised that no one has ever noticed it before! Think about it!
The Sitting Toilet
The western world has always found a comfortable position for any daily activity, even taking a crap. You sit and read a paper without the fear of falling of the toilet or your foot slipping its grip. You can even sleep on it! And let's not forget the comfortable position to throw up once you're drunk like a liquor store or when you're on the way on molding a new human being in your stomach. And you don't have to look at your shit, the plumpy mold of digestion remains!
The flushing is heaven sent! It's like someone else is doing it for you. It's service in a button, easy by one touch.
But have you notice how there's a big concern about the hygiene of butts taking turns sitting on a plastic circle? Suddenly we have to wipe the toilet seat with special soap or wipes, or we have to lay a layer of special paper shaped like the seat before actually sitting on it. A waste of paper! May I add that there is so much surface of the toilet that needs cleaning?
And the deal with toilet paper.... it's a waste of paper and trees and forests and resources and climate change! Need I continue? Please don't make me.
And it's confusing to eastern people once they step in to a cubicle. What is there to do when you only have a toilet, a piece of tissue, and no water and soap? A thought I had when I had to crap in elementary school. So I crapped in my pants staring at the toilet cause I seriously didn't know what to do.
The Squatting Toilet
The eastern lands love to squad, not only on their toilets, but in their daily lives. In middle to lower class Indonesian, a lot of activity is done by squatting like washing the clothes and dishes, cooking, putting tiles on floor, and even high school kids coming home from school hang out by squatting beside their school roads. So we do a lot of it. When it comes to the toilet, we even enjoy the position. It brings some relief to disposing crap. It is clinically known that the squatting position is actually healthier than sitting down. There is less abdominal effort reducing the risk of hemorrhoids. Seriously! You don't have to push as hard when you're squatting.
Although looking at your own crap is a devils doing for some, it's actually necessary at times. The condition of your feces can indicate the condition of your bowls. If theirs clotted blood, that means there's something wrong inside your digestive system. If it's runny blood, it's a wound near the anus. If it's too dark you need fiber, etc.
And I'm gonna be blunt here, if you've got leftovers of your event... that's just nasty to wash! But on normal days, washing with water is refreshing. I read Stans link and I agree, in such a tropical country washing up with water is essential since bacterial can develop easily. The water hand pump is a super blessing and helps us achieve a dry toilet which is a lot more hygiene. Besides being refreshing, I feel it's a lot cleaner. It's a culture thing, JES!
But the squatting toilet can be annoying sometimes. Peeing can be splashy! Reducing the distance from the loo to your butt actually increases impact... Iuu.... but only happens if you're careless. And if it's one of those long sessions, you cramps in your legs rather than the relief that you're looking for.
Once you had a bad few days, and haven't crapped, you can get pretty extraordinary in size, and that's a pain when you have to flush yourself. I've even had to have some tactics to get the bugger down, such as pouring a whole bucket at once, or fast repetitive flushing, or wait a few minutes so the poop can soften because it's soaked in water huahahahaha... I crack myself remembering a lot of the effort I have to do just to get rid of my crap.
Now comes the best part, the combined western and eastern toilet.
The Flushable Squading Toilet (Equiped with toilet paper and water hand pump)
Take the best of both culture and mix it. And there is is. Making it short:
- you worry less about diseases transmitted from toilet seats
- you clean less much area on a squading toilet
- you see your crap for a good reason
- you push less and wont' worsen your hemroid
- you can flush afterwards
- you can wash up
- and dry the damp area with a bit of tissue
Perfect! Now why can't other gadgets be as genius as this? Why can't the east and west work together?
I was procrastinating hard on work today, it's the Chinese New Year and I'm celebrating by doing less work than the minimum that I do anyways. But I did more research for www.indohoy.com today which is still a good thing. Time wasn't wasted.
I stumbled on this blog while reading for indohoy. As I was reading about the oddities of toilet paper in Bangkok, I suddenly realize this:
Well call me the oddities of Asia on this tree pulp product! I use this supply for my morning sneezes, wiping the analysis probe when measuring pH, and for my usual dose of 'toilet paper functions' khihihihihi....
Me and my friend were stranded in the woods of Wetar one day, waiting for help since our car had a flat tire but had no equipment to change it. There was nothing to do, too much has been said, and a nap is all that is left undone. So as I tried to daze off in the passengers seat, I looked up in to the trees and stroke the fresh cool air I saw my bracelet. Click!
This is my Cambodia bracelet. I got it when I was visited Angkor Wat last year. It was tied on to me by a holy man of the temple complex. It’s a bind of prayer after I got my fortuned told. There should be no worries in my fortune, he says, and his prayers were to assure that.
It’s not a Moslem teaching to believe in fortune telling especially from another religion but for some reason, I kept that bracelet on till today. I believed its prayer, a prayer that will help me into a good life.
But there was a time, exactly a year after this bracelet was bind on to me, I wanted to cut it off. I had a low point in my own believes and I though that getting rid of this item would further me of what I didn’t believe in, hoping it would make me closer to what I did believe in. I almost cut it off. But I didn’t.
I came back to the point where I believe all prayers are good, no matter what religion we’re from. I believe it as I believe that a good deed is a good deed no matter what who did it, from whatever religion, or from those with no religion also.And a little red band would not define what I believe in.
Now, I keep the bracelet for 2 reasons: as a reminder that I’ve been to Angkor Wat, and as a reminder that I should not symbolize things in totems. Hmm a totem reminding of what totems should not be. Sounds pretty twisted hey?
