Never dreamed you'd leave in summer

Two weeks went by without you, and finally, two days ago we met again. Our meeting, let me describe it in two words. Dark chocolate. Our conversation was sweet, and we were sweet to each other. And yet, an air of bitterness hung in the air, above our steaming cups of tea, a quietly persistent reminder of how not too long ago, our conversations were constantly plagued with questions, whose answers I could not bear to hear.

There is someone else I care about now, and for once, I'm going to let my head rule my life. I have placed too much trust in this thing called instinct. And it has let me down.

So I guess, this is where we part. Somewhere on a leafy street, in front of your car, one sunny late afternoon in July.

My summer temper

Being a very competent klutz, naturally I hate it when people place their shoes where they are not supposed to be. Like right in the middle of the room. It might make a great home video, but somersaulting in the dark over somebody's stinky sneakers isn't something I want to do on a regular basis.

So as you can tell, I'm on a whingey mood. So here goes the rest.

For the first time in my 28 years, I have hay fever. Gee, thanks Montreal. It started last weekend. I got out of the house in the afternoon and right away, I was greeted with swirls and twirls of pollen. There was so much of it and I kid you not, the city looked like a giant cotton candy machine. But if the real cotton candy gives you toothache, this cotton candy gives you a blocked nose, watery eyes, sore throat, and a very, very cranky Karina.

I'm also pissed off with my apartment. First, the dryer broke down. Then, the fridge became unreliably warm when the temperature swelled. And here's the worst part, my bedroom - that pretty little room, and the only reason why I'm staying in this shit hole - was unable to defend itself from the heat. It became so hot inside that I didn't even dare turn on any kind of lighting for fear of setting the whole place ablaze.

Oh well, at least tomorrow's Thursday.

Blast from the past

I was in bed a few nights ago, seconds away from falling asleep. Then suddenly, I found myself in the bedroom my sister and I used to share when we were little. There was a single bed on the left hand side of the rectangle-shaped room. Across it, a brown study desk. I was sitting on the floor in between, and so was my sister. I was playing with one of those toys that taught children to recognize shapes. There was a red plastic cube box whose six sides were adorned with cut-outs of shapes. A square, a rectangle, a circle, an octagon, a crescent moon, and a star.

The door opened and in poked my parents' heads. My mother spoke and I looked up.

"We are leaving now, so grandma will stay with you tonight, is that okay, dears?" I didn't know where they were going and I didn't ask. My sister might have said something to them, though I was too busy with my toy to pay attention.

The door closed and not long after, the front gate creaked open, letting out my dad's car, and creaked back closed. I wasn't aware of it then, but it was the last night that I was the youngest child in the house. The date was October 8th, 1985.

My dad came home the next day, my mum a few days after. More than eight thousand days have come and gone since then, including the day my grandmother left and never returned.

Funny how randomly the brain picks which memory to surface.

What a difference Doraemon makes

Just in case anybody's wondering, I had a nice weekend. The weather from Saturday morning onwards was not agreeable but thankfully I had a lovely companion to spend time with indoors.

We didn't do much. We just played the role of couch potatoes pretty much all weekend long. What impressed me was that he could sing some of the lines from the Candy Candy theme song. Apparently Candy Candy was really big in Belgium. He didn't know about Doraemon, however, and when I showed him an episode on YouTube, he didn't really like it. But, "I enjoyed watching you enjoy it, though." Wow, this guy is good.

And just for the record, the theme song for the weekend was "What a Difference a Day Makes".

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Despite all that loveliness, I am still at a loss, thinking about what had gone wrong that had brought me to this point. I'm not in a bad situation or anything, but this was certainly not what I had in mind a few weeks ago.

Still, I'm loving this city. And with spring well underway, there is no reason for me to be sad or think about the what-could-have-beens. Besides, sooner or later, they* will all eventually disappoint, anyway.

*men.

Kepleset

Ceritanya gua sekarang kerja jadi HR interviewer. Bukan untuk merekrut orang, tapi untuk melakukan background checks. You know, making sure crooks are not being hired...

I really enjoy doing this job because, hey, I get to talk all day long. That is so me, don't you think? Walaupun maap, blog ini jadi makin jarang di-update, terutama sejak 'krisis' sekitar dua minggu yang lalu yang ngga cuma menyurutkan nafsu makan, tapi juga nafsu nge-blog, dan nafsu-nafsu lainnya. Alhamdulilah semua nafsu tersebut sekarang sudah hampir pulih. *berdehem*

Sialnya, lidah gua tuh lumayan sering kepleset (keturunan dari nyokap). A jadi B dan B jadi A.

So far, here are my top three embarrassing tongue slips:

Original question: "So what was his reason for leaving?"
What came out: "So what was his reason for living?"

kenape sih bhs inggris mesti bunyinya mirip-mirip? ih rese deh...

Original question: "So how would you describe his temperament?"
What came out: "So how would you describe his temperature?"

pada saat itu gua pingin lari sekenceng-kencengnya menuju jendela dan terjun bebas ke lantai dasar...

Original line: "I'd really appreciate if if you could call me back on..."
What came out: "I'd really appreciate if if you could kill me..."

at least i was being polite about it...

To settle or to wrestle, that is the question

So it has been over a month since I touched down on this country with a working visa. And it has been three weeks since I started 'normal life' again. My whole existence is once again regulated by that cruel little bitch called time.

I don't know. Is it the job? Or is it the boyfriend? Or "boyfriend"? That term has been a little fuzzy lately.

Either way, that little voice inside me is starting to get noisy. It's starting to spread its arms and legs and rudely kick me in the gut, all the while screaming, "I want to get out!"

WHAT?

But I just got in!

Ok. I have to fight hard this time. Boredom is my biggest enemy and I shall fight it earnestly. I can't do nothing about the job - I need some money to live after all - but the rest can be negotiated.

Let me think about that this week.

Mmm new man

Mati satu tumbuh seribu.
Habis gelap terbitlah terang.
The best way to get over a man is to get under another... et voilà!

But seriously, between this one and I, we have some freaky things in common:

1. On the night we met at this party, we brought the same kind of beer. It was St-Ambroise de blé à l'abricot. Granted, it was a fruity-themed party, but we were the only two who actually applied the rule to the kind of alcohol brought to the table.
2. That favorite picture of mine, the painting Nighthawks by Edward Hopper, once hung on the wall of his old apartment in Brussels.
3. We have the same favorite chips, right down to the brand name. Onion & sour cream rings, by Noname. We were grocery shopping on Friday night and when he saw what was in my basket, he was like, "Mais non!"
4. My birthday is 1212, his 0707.

Alright, so there are only four. It seemed like a lot before I wrote them out. Nevertheless... interesting.