It's nearly over, this thing called 2008

One year has passed since I first started this blog. I'm no longer 27yo, like the blog address suggests. Soon, it will be 2009 and I will be well on my way to become a 30yo. Like everyone of my age, we all feel a certain anxiety entering this next phase of our life. Though we all have different challenges: some face the constant battle of a little child demanding utmost attention and wit, others scramble to find the buttons to move up the corporate elevator (admit it, no one ever takes the stairs at work anymore unless it's a fire drill, right?).

My sister asked in an email on my birthday recently: "So have you achieved a great deal this year?" Being my sister, she enjoys the privileges of being direct and in-my-face with me without coming across as accusatory and loaded with expectations - even though she used the words 'a great deal'. If that had been my dad asking, I probably would have got on the defensive.

I answered: "I don't know... define "great deal"? Actually I had a realization the other day that I have a really simple life, but happy one! I don't know if I could say that two years ago, so from that point of view, I think I have achieved a great deal."

And that is the truth.

I do realize, however, that a fulfilling personal life hinges on many other factors, one of which is having a fulfilling life outside of that. As much as a person loves their partner and family, if they don't have anything else that they look forward to or challenged with, sooner or later that family satisfaction will wither. I have seen this happen with my mother and her situation is not uncommon with the rest of the stay-at-home wife population.

Therefore, having said that, it is imperative that I have a goal. And it is imperative that I achieve it. So my resolution for 2009 is this: finish what I have started, whatever it is I have set out to do. For I believe that anything is possible and that not finishing what I have started is the primary reason why I have achieved relatively little success so far in my life.

Thank you for reading and happy new year!

Another laughable gimmick

Recently, the top Malaysian Islamic body issued a fatwa against yoga, arguing that its practice contains elements of Hinduism and might corrupt Islamic faith. It added that while yoga as a pure element of physical exercise might not be against Islamic beliefs, Muslims should avoid practising it because "doing one part of yoga would lead to another."

The chairman of the fatwa council advocated, “There are many other forms of exercise that Muslims can partake in, especially when the religion promotes healthy living and lifestyle. Performing prayers, for example, is a good form of exercise." Perhaps soon the council will unveil a new method of praying, which involves strapping weight belts around the worshippers' waists and arms while they stoop back and forth during their shalat.

The only glimmer of hope I have is that more and more people, including Muslims, will find that this religion is slowly choking their lifestyle and will finally form their own voice and make a stand against these dictatorial religious bodies.

Note: More recently, MUI declared that it is considering following the footsteps of their Malaysian counterpart. How original.

Don't break my heart unless you have to

There's nothing more sobering than a break-up, when somebody breaks up with you, that is. It immediately signals a failure, and at first impression, your failure to live up to someone's expectation, though after given some time to mourn and reflect, one might find that the failure actually belongs to the person who breaks up with you.

I've had a number of break-ups throughout the years, one no easier than the one before. My most recent one was in June this year, when my boyfriend of some six months decided that it would be best for us him that we just be friends. Boo. Thankfully, he went overseas shortly afterwards on vacation, and with that it was proven to me convincingly that out of sight is indeed out of mind - if, ironically, you really put your mind to it.

Still, the ten days between the breakup and his departure was difficult and decorated with tears. Somehow, because we agreed that we would still be good friends, I expected that he would still drop by now and then every two days and hang out with me after work. Indeed, I'm one of those girlfriends who love spending a lot of time with their boyfriends. A lot, meaning as much time as is physically possible. I'm rather embarrassed to admit it, really, because we all know that that isn't cool.

True to our words, we are still good friends now. We only see each other maybe once every two weeks nowadays, but that's actually quite special because that's even more than the frequency with which I see my other friends. The other night we went out for a drink and it was amazing sitting there remembering that I once thought that this guy was the one. How wrong can our feeling be and how clouded can our judgment turn out as a result. And it's not at all because he's a bad person. It's just that he's bad boyfriend for me.

I guess all I'm trying to say is this: a break-up is always good.

More chatter

Right now… I’m dreaming of a bowl of Bakmi Gajah Mada. Oh man, just thinking about it makes me happy. Of course, the reality is quite different. Dinner tonight was (canned) cream of chicken. No bread (too lazy).

I had a nice Saturday, though. Woke up not too late, just in time to go to McCord Museum, which admits visitors free of charge between 10 to 12 on the first Saturday of each month. I only had the energy (and patience) to see one exhibition ‘Reveal or Conceal’ which traces the evolution of women’s clothing from the 19th century until the present time. Specifically, its relation to modesty and eroticism. Noted two interesting things:1. A ‘full dress’ actually means a dress that reveals the shoulders, arms and even cleavage. It was the dress code for elite women in the late 19th century (don’t quote me on the exact period though, it could’ve been early 20th century) when attending balls. At one such occasion, the invited women were instructed to wear a full dress where failing to do so required them to submit a medical letter saying why they could not wear one! Crazee…
2. Of course, an exhibition named ‘Reveal or Conceal’ has to mention veiled women, right? One woman’s comment on why she loves the veil so much is because “after wearing the veil all day outside, when you come home, take it off and see yourself in the mirror, you’ll find yourself even more beautiful [than you think].” Also, “I love wearing beautiful and soft fabrics. Wearing the veil just gives me the excuse to wear these nice things everyday.” I knew that thing has nothing to do with modesty! The other comments defend the veil because the veil gives the wearer self respect. Ay ay ay… I don’t buy that crap. You don’t need a piece of cloth covering your head in order for others to respect you. There are things like being smart, being friendly or being generous.

Moving on... I then went the Salvation Army shop to look for clothes I can wear to work. Didn't find any decent looking tops, but I did find two really nice skirts (one even bears a Polo Ralph Lauren label, though authenticity is in doubt) at $4 each! Woohoo.

The rest of the afternoon was spent walking around the city which, thanks to the rain, is no longer a smog factory. I love this city full stop.

And tonight , we learnt that Canadian TV journalist, Melissa Fung, who was kidnapped last month in Afghanistan has been released. Great news, of course, but it does remind us that, while we go to our warm beds tonight, fearing nothing but the alarm clock that might strike at any moment to remind us that we have jobs to go to, many, many people around the world live in captivity. Held by political enemies or, even scarier, by people close to them. Remember earlier this year the story about this guy who held his own daughter in the basement for 25 years and had children with her? It's stories like this that sometimes makes me think - despite the obvious invasion of privacy - that we all have to be electronically chipped.

Remembering a Saturday

It feels like yesterday. I can still feel the warm late spring wind blowing in my face, with fatigue starting to take hold of my body, as I was biking back to Parc Laurier, where we were supposed to meet. With every minute that passed, I grew more and more anxious and started cursing my own inability to bike faster. After all, it had been almost one hour since we were supposed to meet. I turned right on Laurier Ave, hoping that it would be a shortcut, but not knowing that it would eventually prolong the trip as the street took on a zigzagging path, with hilly ways that seemed to be plotting together to slow me down.

When finally the bike ‘ordeal’ came to an end, I carelessly locked my bike to the first pole I saw and raced towards the soccer field. Not again, I thought to myself, would I be so cheap as to prefer to bike than to pay $4 to catch public transport. I seriously overestimated my fitness that day and as I would soon find out, it would cost me very dearly.

I saw Eric and some of the French girls at the soccer field, went over and said hello. My eyes wandered from left to right and then right to left. There was no you. Maybe you went to sit down under the tree or something, away from them. I know you aren’t the social butterfly type, especially around people you hardly know. I excused myself to find a public telephone, which happened to be on the other side of the park. Really, everything seemed to be so out of reach that afternoon. I dialled your phone number and grew more desperate as your phone kept ringing, unanswered. Then your recorded voice came on the line. “Bonjour, vous êtes bien chez Emmanuel, laissez votre message and je vous appelerai.” or something to that effect. I love your voice there. You sound so warm and welcoming. But at that moment, it was the last thing I wanted to hear. With a heavy heart, I left you a message, letting you know that I would be going home and if you wanted, we could meet there instead.

I could have looked for you around the park once more and then tried to call again, but you know what, I was exhausted and I had no more coins. So I went home and as soon as I got there, reached for the phone and dialled your number again.

This time, you answered the phone. You sounded so different from your recorded voice. You sounded so.. cold and distant. You already left the park and were on your way home, which at the time, was far, far away from where I lived. My hope of seeing you again that day was dashed. “Sorry Karina, I’m very tired. I’m going home and rest.” Reluctantly, almost to the point of wanting to scream, “No! You can’t do that to me! You were supposed to wait for me!”, I hung up. I went to my room, put my overexercised feet on the desk and was suddenly enveloped by an overwhelming need to cry. What a shitty Saturday afternoon. And I sobbed, and sobbed, not knowing what I was really sobbing for.

I heard the door open and the sound of my roommate’s rollerblades filled the apartment. I spent the rest of the early evening with my roommate, talking and watching hockey on TV. It was during the Stanley Cup and of course, the Canadiens were playing, but I really can’t remember now who they were playing against. I cared very little about hockey then. After awhile, I was so tired that I fell asleep right there and only woke up when my roommate – the same one – came back into the apartment clutching his poutine dinner. I didn’t even hear him go out!

Feeling a little better, I turned on my laptop. You were online and you said hello. I wasn’t sure what to say, but you started apologizing for not waiting for me earlier. You said you were really feeling unwell, but “that’s not an excuse. I should’ve waited for you. I’m sorry Karina.” You asked me what I was doing. I said I was just semi-watching hockey on TV, but really, I said half-jokingly, I’d rather be hanging out in the suburbs tonight. I was referring to Riviere-des-Prairies, of course, your little quiet suburb. To my surprise, yes back then I wasn’t really good at reading what you were really thinking, you invited me to come over. I looked at the clock. It was almost 8.30pm. I said I wasn’t really sure which bus to take and even if I did, I didn’t know where to get off! You quickly gave me the directions, which confused the hell out of me.

When I got home that afternoon, I really did not imagine that I would be doing another long trip. And yet, there I was, waiting for the metro to take me to almost the end of the orange line, to where I would catch a bus that would take me to almost the end of the island. It was madness from my part. To think that at the time, I always told you stubbornly, “I just want us to be friends.”

I brought my iPod and a book. Still, the ride seemed to outlast the two put together. The whole trip was new to me though, so from that point of view, it wasn’t that horribly boring, though the rain outside made the bus windows foggy and I had to wipe the one next to me now and then so I could stay on top of your directions. God forbid I should miss my stop that night. It was raining, I didn’t know where I was, and I didn’t have a mobile phone.

I virtually ran as soon as I got out of the humid bus. It was after 10pm then and it was getting cold. As soon as I saw you standing there outside your apartment, though, I said to myself, "it's going to be alright."

I'm turning all the lights on

First night alone in a long, long time. So far, no problem. But then again, it's not bed time yet. As much as I claim myself to be an independent, modern woman, I actually hate living by myself. I do enjoy my own company when I have a good book and a glass of ice cold chocolate soy milk, but I won't last very long that way. Once my eyes are tired from reading, I would want the company of another person nearby.

I have not been separated from my boyfriend for more than 24 hours since July 1st, 2008. This afternoon, however, he flew to Europe to attend his beloved grandmother's funeral on Friday and won't be back until Sunday. What the hell am I going to do with myself? Yes, thank Goodness, there is cable TV and for the next 4 days, I can watch whatever I want there without being interrupted by hockey matches, football matches, rugby matches and the rest of them. I can finally have french language channels on at all times, in the hope that, unconsciously, my brain will pick up new words here and there. Wishful thinking, I know.

I don't even know where the hell am I going with this journal entry. I guess I just feel like talking, but there's no one here I can talk to because I'm not a telephone person and because it's a weeknight and I don't feel like going out anywhere. Plus, I'm starting to get a cold again. My throat is feeling scratchy.

AGGGGGGGGHHH.

Don't worry, it's actually not so bad :) I'm just whingeing because well, I'm just so not used to being in this apartment by myself :)

By the way, my boyfriend's grandmother died last weekend. She died at 1am Belgium time, which would have been 8pm here. Here's the funny thing. Earlier that evening, we had a nap, but I woke up at around 6.30 while he continued sleeping. At 8pm, however, and I remember this because I just read a little clip on lapresse.com saying that the Canadiens were down 1-2 after a 20-minute period and Saturday night games normally start at 7.30, my boyfriend screamed out of his sleep. He said that he dreamed that the Canadiens scored. Over there in Belgium, though, his grandmother died at that same time. Isn't that so freaky?

The freakiness doesn't end there. Later that evening, we went out for dinner and, I can't remember what led to that topic, we started talking about our dead relatives. I think he first mentioned about All Souls day and he then explained to me what it was about. He said that on All Souls day, he used to go to his grandparents' graves (the ones from his dad's side) and put fresh flowers there. I then talked about how I, too, used to go to my grandfather's grave in Jakarta (in freaky Joglo cemetery yg becek banget kalo abis ujan) with my parents, aunts, uncles and cousins, and we used to put cakes, oranges and the like around the grave for my grandfather to "savour". From there we talked about our other relatives who had died.

It was the morning after that he learned from his mother that his "mamie" had died. It's heartbreaking to see a grown man cry. I hope I'll never have to see him like that ever again.

What saddened me also was that, I realized that I wasn't there for my parents when their parents died. My sister told me that my mother and her younger sister were crying the hardest at my grandmother's funeral. I know my mum often dreams about her and I know that sometimes she cries in her sleep - a mix of sleeptalking and whimpering.

AGGGHHHHH. Excuse me, but I'll have to continue this another time. It's such a depressing topic!

Dreaming of good food

Have you ever talked so much that you got sick of your own voice? I have. Actually, I am, on a daily basis. It's unbelievable how much water I have to consume each day to keep my throat from overdrying from too much talking. Yes, yes, I love my job, but no, no, this cannot go on and on.

The weather has turned cold. Hello winter! Hello bulky jackets that hide the fact that I'm all skins and bones - yay! There is no turning back. From now until at least April 2009, my days will once again be filled with taking the metro to work, slathering hand lotion every conceivable minute and screaming, "Damn, it's cold!"

But for now, I'm happy and warm. I'm taking advantage of the free wi-fi at the foodcourt in the underground city. Don't want to go home yet because that means I have to think about what to eat for dinner tonight. Which reminds me, I had a few disappointments yesterday in the domain of food.

Seeing that I have now bought myself a weekly metro pass, I am now free to go from A to Z on the metro network without any worry in the world, if time permits. So, after work yesterday, I decided to go to the Jean-Talon suburb, which is a haven for Vietnamese treats. My intention was clear: Vietnamese springrolls. Or, if they are sold out, Korean instant noodles. After which I will reward myself a steaming bowl of pho at the nearby Vietnamese restaurant. Got to the door of the oriental grocery store and, "What the hell? How come the door wouldn't open?" Crap, the shop closes at 7pm on Mondays. I was 30 minutes late. Unbelievable. I thought all Asian-owned shops open until at least 9pm. Oh well, not to worry, at least I can still eat pho. Or so I thought. The restaurant - it turned out- closes on Mondays. What the hell? I thought all Asian-owned (except Indonesian-owned) restaurants open Monday to Monday again.

So I dragged my feet back to the metro to go home, all the way comforting myself that at least, AT LEAST, I can get some delicious Portuguese roast chicken at the corner of my street. Romado's - the place is called - is never not busy, so when I got to their door, seeing that there was no line-up, was overjoyed. Walking to the counter, I was rehearsing in my head what I would order, but I didn't get to practice my line. "Il n'y a plus de poulet, cherie," the little lady said from behind counter, in what usually looks more like a chicken's worst nightmare. The kitchen, when it's in full swing, truly looks like a hell for chickens. But of course, this time all was quiet on the chicken front. Romado's had run out of chickens for the night. In the end, I had the classic Indonesian student's budget meal: steam rice with fried eggs.

I guess it's time to go home now. Hopefully, I"ll have better luck with food tonight.

What are you thankful for?

Believe it or not, my stolen bike has been returned. To the exact same place where it was stolen a number of weeks ago, tied to the same pole on rue Sherbrooke.

When I first spotted it, I was enraged, "How dare this person park the bike exactly where he or she stole it?" I immediately thought, "Ok, this must be some kind of a prank." On a closer look, however, I noticed that the bike was not locked to the pole. It was simply tied to it. There was no note, unfortunately, but I suppose the thief`s intention was clear: I don`t need your bike anymore. In any case, this is not a common occurrence in Montreal. Bikes are stolen - full stop.

The funny thing is, I actually no longer need it or want it. I bought another bike shortly after that bike disappeared and I immediately loved the new bike. It is so much nicer to ride on and I no longer dread the hellish climb between rue Duluth and rue Rachel on the way home.

Funnily enough, this kind of thing often happens in human relationships. When we lose someone through a break up, oftentimes we don`t realize that it`s for the better. On the other hand, we might have let someone go, only to find out later that it was not a good decision. By then, however, it would`ve been too late - that someone no longer wants us.

So do I have a piece of advice to conclude this somewhat cheesy journal entry? Absolutely not. But I would love to say this:

Happy Thanksgiving!

The fathers of all boy bands

(This picture is taken from the Montreal Gazette)

Do you recognize these faces?

The old kids on the block have reunited, apparently. Of course, they still retain their old name: New Kids On The Block. Gee, some people just refuse to grow up, don't they?

Nevertheless, how the hell did I manage to miss their concert last night? I did hear about them coming to town a few weeks ago, but somehow that idea just sat quietly at the back of my mind.



They came to Indonesia many years ago - I think at that time I was in grade five - and my two best friends went to their concert. Although their visit to Indonesia generated bad publicity for the group as people and journalists reported how stuck up these kids were, I have always rather regretted not having the guts to ask my parents if they'd give me the money to buy the (expensive) tickets to watch NKOTB perform.



I am seriously contemplating to watch their concert in Boston. After all, kapan lagi gua bisa 'hangin' tough' bareng boyband favorit gua?

Ethics and Religious Education in Quebec

I just saw a tv program that told about a new educational program for primary school children in Quebec called Ethics and Religious Education. It is still in a pilot stage and the purpose of this new program is to teach school children about the various 'major religions' of the world and subsequently, foster a tolerant mentality towards them. This means that, if their parent once sat in class listening to the stories of Jesus and his twelve sidekicks (only), now the kid can skip that and learn not only about Christianity, but also Judaism and Islam instead, for example. Great, huh? What an appropriate new school program for children brought up in a world full of news of bomb threats and bombs actually going off.

Unfortunately, some parents (backed by some Christian religious authorities) do not agree. They have organized a resistance group and filed petitions to have their children exempted from this program. The good thing is, theirs seems to be a lost cause. School boards around the region have rejected their plea, leaving behind a trail of pissed off parents.

One parent was quoted to say that he is worried that if his kids learn about other religions on top of Catholicism, they will become confused by too many choices. Another said that the course threatens his children's Christian faith. A child's Christian faith? I don't believe that there is such a thing. As much as I don't believe in a young Muslim girl wearing a veil just because her mother does.

The purpose of sending your children to school is to equip them with life skills. Skills that will ensure their survival in society, especially one that is becoming more and more diverse. If these parents want their children to have Christian faith, that kind of education should take place at home, where the children learn about Christian faith by observing their parents living according to those values.

There was an incident recently in the Laurentians where a Jewish man was assaulted. The Gazette reported that "A group of young guys started staring at us and then, from five metres away, they threw a whole bunch of coins at us - I don't know, maybe thinking, 'Jews are cheap' - a typical joke," recalled Haouzi." The incident led to poor Haouzi being punched and injured. A witness nearby refused to call the police.

While fundamentalists and racists can never be completely eradicated, a program that teaches about what your neighbours believe in and how, deep inside, we're all more or less the same, can ensure their numbers stay low. I have to admit, I am guilty of an ignorant thought from time to time too, but maybe that's because I didn't grow up with an Ethics and Religious Education course.

Just another stolen bike in Montreal

Akhirnya apa yang semua sudah wanti-wanti terjadi juga. SEPEDAKU DICOLONG ORANG. Pagi itu, hari Jumat, sepeda yang hampir dua bulan terakhir ini nongkrong setia di rue Sherbrooke menunggu pemiliknya bangun dan berangkat ke kantor sudah lenyap, walaupun tidak tanpa bekas. Si maling yang beroperasi pada malam hari itu menyisakan gembok sepeda gua sebagai kenang-kenangan. Sopan juga tuh maling. Yang bikin gua bingung, gimana caranya dia ngelepasin gembok tersebut dari sepeda gua tanpa tanda-tanda forced entry?

Lucunya, dua hari sebelum sepeda itu hilang, gua sempet mengambil foto ini:

Ceritanya gua lagi jalan-jalan malem, dan setelah gua foto sebuah rumah (yg malam itu terlihat cantik sekali di bawah sinar lampu jalanan), gua terkesima karena ternyata sepeda gua juga nggak kalah cantik di bawah lampu jalanan yang sama.

Gara-gara si maling itu pula, gua mesti keluar duit beli sepeda baru. But, like all the wise men and women before me have said, all things happen for a reason. And the reason is, my new bike - which is cheaper - is actually a much better bike, though it's uglier and rustier. Still, sebel aje mesti keluar duit lagi. I was doing so well with this week's budget. Grrrr....

Marilah kita sama-sama berdoa supaya sepeda baru gua bernasib lebih mujur.

From Aceh with love

This video will put you in a lighter mood (baca: kocak abis).



As to the lyrics of the song, I'd like to say... no comment - though I wouldn't mind getting a full translation. After all, ignorance breeds prejudice, no?

Superman comes to town

This man left me breathless today, and as a result, I nearly died... laughing.

Little Boy Blue

The picture that got me interested in www.markryden.com.

A Swedish Dream

Once upon a time, when I was still in university (yep, it was that long ago), I learned in a marketing class the concept that when you buy a product, you don't really buy the product per se, but the function that it serves. D'oh, of course, but until I actually read that in the book, I never really realized it. One of the most popular examples that illustrates this concept is a a cosmetic product. Us women might be enticed by the cute coloured lipgloss offered by the smart people behind Stila, but essentially, that's not what we're buying. Charles Revson, founder of Revlon, puts it down simply as this, "In the factory, we make cosmetics; in the store we sell hope."

Personally, I don't use much cosmetic products, so this example doesn't really sink in with me. But today I went to IKEA and it hit me immediately why people flock to that place anywhere in the world. IKEA is the adult version of Disneyland. You see, it may not be the happiest place on earth, but it sure makes you think that it will make your home the happiest place on earth.

Even flicking through the catalogue is a rewarding experience. Guys might identify the feeling while flicking through the Penthouse magazine. (Which is a rather funny analogy, if I could call myself funny, because the latest IKEA catalogue is now sitting right next to my toilet bowl...)

Of course, the previous two paragraphs are probably just my unconscious efforts to justify the number of things I want to buy from IKEA, hihihi. Eventually, I only came out with the things I really needed (good girl, me!), but now I can't get my mind off that cool bar table and that orange lamp shade. Geez.

I'm sure my IKEA dreams will come true one day, but for now, I guess I'd still come home to a half-furnished apartment :)

Awww shut up!

A comedian once said on TV that finding a soulmate is easy. Just look for someone who's not an asshole. I totally agree. Because so what if you two share the same interests if he always ditches you to watch footie (or hockey, or soccer) with his mates? Today, though, I realized that there's one more trait that's just as important: find someone who has the ability to listen. To other people, that is. If anything, it's probably one of the most important attributes your boyfriend or girlfriend must have.

Thankfully, I didn't realize this fact from my own boyfriend. It was thanks (or no thanks?) to this gentleman I was unfortunate to have had to speak to at work.

The guy was giving a reference for this woman he used to work with. Before we started, I told him that the interview would take approximately five minutes and asked him whether he'd be okay with that. He said that was fine. So off we went. Right off the bat, though, I knew - to my dismay - that he was one of those people who loved talking for talk's sake. But he was special. He was either in love with that woman, or he just loved hearing his own voice reverberate through the phone line. I put in practice all kinds of techniques available out there to cut him off politely for each question to prevent me from writing a 5000-word essay to present to the hiring manager, but it looks like I'd need new techniques after that. Finally, after way more than five minutes, I managed to ask all the questions I had to ask. But guess what, if normal people would take "Well thank you for your time today" as a farewell sentence, he took it as "Do you have any other comments?"

I said no less than five times, "Well [his name], thank you so much for your comments." But save for the last one - when I must've started to sound like I wanted to either scream, or cry, or fart out of frustration - he started a new trail of praises for that ex-colleague of his.

And this is the best part. Just before we hung up, he said, "That was more than five minutes, wasn't it?"

Asshole.

I love my job

I interview people on a daily basis for the purpose of employment references. It may not seem so, but it's a stressful job (but then again, which job isn't?), though there's always something that keeps us entertained, or... as the insider joke tells it, "keeps us checkin'".

Here are the top three things that cracked me up recently:

Me: What was he employed as at the time?
Referee: He was my bitch.
(Needless to say, I had to ask further about this candidate's responsibilities...)

Me: What's your position?
Referee: Sitting down.
(I was so tempted to scream, "Lame!", but decided to laugh along with him instead.)

Colleague: Is this a good time to speak to you?
Referee: I'm in labour at the moment, can I call you back?
(I can't remember what my colleague said in response, but I'm pretty sure the phone call didn't last that long.)

Cruel summer

Disini lagi musim festival nih. Sekarang ini lagi ada Francofolies, minggu sebelumnya ada Juste Pour Rire (Just For Laughs), dan minggu sebelomnya ada Jazz Festival. Itu yg gede-gede. Pada saat yg bersamaan, ada festival2 mini seperti Haitian Music Festival dan Les Nuits Afriques. Maklum, lagi summer. Terus terang, gua suka banget summer disini, soalnya gua bisa berkeliaran naek sepeda kemana-mana. One of the most fun things is discovering a nice looking restaurant or cafe in the middle of nowhere. Resenya ya... humidity-nya itu. Mesti mandi dua tiga kali sehari. Ganti kolor dua tiga kali sehari. Numpuk deh yg namanya cucian.

Aaaanyway.

Gua baru pindah nih, by the way. Akhirnya, gua punya tempat tinggal sendiri (dalam artian tinggal sendiri, walaupun masih nyewa) tanpa embel-embel roommates. I live in a small three and a half, a real-estate term here which means a place consisting of three rooms (bedroom, living room and kitchen) plus a bathroom (the half room). One thing I learned from moving to my own place was that moving is expensive. And I'm not only talking about the furnitures. I'm talking about inexpensive little things like a dish sponge, a broom, cleaning products, plates, cups, tea towels, kitchen knife, chopping board, and so on and so forth. In fact, I didn't have to pay much for furniture. The only thing I bought was my bed. The rest, like my coffee tables (x2), bedside drawers, and sofa, I picked up from the street. I love this city.

Except for one insane incident a few weeks ago.

It happened on Avenue Mont-Royal around 10pm. The boyfriend and I just got out of Tim Horton's, the donut shop, and we were walking back towards my place, not too far from there. At the same time, a young man was walking in the opposite direction on the same sidewalk. As we passed each other, I noticed a yellow-coloured something around his neck. Something that moved. Something that ressembled a... a... a... oh for fuck's sake, it was a snake! I screamed my lungs off as soon as I realized what I thought it was. For your information, at this point, I wasn't 100% sure that it was a real snake. I didn't think it was legal to walk around with that thing around your neck (but the shock was so great that I screamed anyway). I mean... hello? We're on a street lined with boutiques, restaurants and cafés! But then the man, hearing my anguish-filled scream, turned around and said, "Don't worry, it's not dangerous!"

My ex-roommate later confirmed that it was indeed a living snake, capable of breaking all the bones in your body (ok, this last point's an exaggeration), because he had seen it at Tam-Tam's, a weekly Sunday event at Parc Mont-Royal. And... as if I wasn't emotionally bruised enough, last week there was another snake-related incident about three blocks away from where I live. A woman discovered a python under her bed, and it was not hers.

So it's confirmed. I live in a neighbourhood that, God knows why, attracts snakes. Alright that's it. I'm going to start sprinkling salt around my windows and doors. Either that, or I'll have to see a shrink and get my phobia fixed.

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".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

Has anybody seen my grip?

The ghost of him lingers and suddenly I'm too afraid to go back to sleep. This will pass, I know. But in the meantime, this state of mind hurts like a bastard. It's even starting to get beyond the mind, no kidding. I realise that happiness is partly a will to be happy, because how else could it be that I could be so content and cruising about life one minute and cursing it the next?

Boy, I need to get a grip.

I was alright, really alright, before you came along. For awhile you fed me love. For awhile you fed me hope. But like the waves that come crashing in the sea, life turns up and down before my very eyes. And I'm struggling to stand up, unable to keep up.

New blog

If bored married couples have babies to keep their marriage alive, unemployed people blog to keep the boredom at bay. So with that theory in mind, I'm happy to announce that I just gave birth to a new blog.

Old St-Hubert

One of my favorite things to do is trying different routes to get to a place. It often makes a dull walk interesting.

So today I took Rue St-Hubert to walk home from the city. This has to be one of the best streets in Montreal for house-watching. You know, like people watching; only this time it's the houses that are watching you walk past.

The houses here, they're not mansions, and they're old as hell, but they have this aura around them that make your head brim with imagination about who live in them, what their bedrooms look like, whether they have clandestine lovers, and what they'll cook for dinner tonight.

The weather was premenstrual today, forlorn and all, but hopefully these pictures will make you understand what I meant.

And this, is what ruined my otherwise enjoyable house-watching. Don't you just hate it when people dress like that? The picture might suggest that I'm exaggerating - bitchy even - but trust me, this girl neeeeeeds a spoonful of good taste.

Doin' just fine

While wiping the ***hole after doing the number 2 this evening, I observed something rather strange.

There's a shred of carrot in my turd. Or something that resembles it anyway. I didn't go so far as picking it out and verifying its identity - 'cos that's just gross, alright?

Don't worry about me, though. I just thought I'd share that with you.

Don't make me watch this video again

OMIGOD OMIGOD. Right now I'm really hating Islam. Like, really. As a proponent of freedom and democracy, what I really want for Christmas this year is for that religion to be demolished and banned from this planet.

Thanks to this video.

Wow. Propaganda really works, eh?

Ohhh I'm so sad... why do they hate us so much just because we're different? Ohhh... this is worse than racism.

One bike, many bruises

So I bought a bike yesterday. At this bike recycling shop that also sells pinball machines dating from the 70's and, apparently, weed. I wonder if there's a correlation between the three.

"Did you smell anything while you were there?" GZ asked me afterwards. He knew that place since his friend the drug addict is a regular customer there. But apart from rubber and that distinctive yet inexplicable smell of junk, no, I didn't get a whiff of anything else. I guess I can never be part of a police drug squad, then.

But anyway, the bike is extremely cute, complete with a rearview mirror and a front basket. Not sure how old it is, though there are some rusty parts. Its main colour is golden brown; even the saddle is brown.

All that cuteness couldn't save me from trouble though. Riding it home for the first time from the shop - which was far far away in the city south - I fell twice and almost got hit by a car once, in between which the words "fuck", "ngehe", "anjing" and their varieties could be heard from my direction.

What do people do, anyway, when they fall off their bikes? Do they laugh at themselves to minimise the embarrassment? Or do they pretend nobody saw it? When I fell yesterday, in front of about 5 people at a bus stop and Jesus knows how many cars, I could see that those people were trying hard not to crack up. Some even looked away, kinda hoping I suppose, that I didn't see their faces, to make me feel less embarrassed. Man, I felt so sorry for myself that I almost wished I was dead.

I'll get better, you'll see.

It's not me, it's you, yes you

Tonight is not amazing at all. The cracks are starting to show. Could I have reacted differently? Perhaps. But then, that wouldn't have been me.

On the other hand, it's 2008. Maybe I'll be nice this year and see what happens. Either that, or I'll keep reminding myself that guys are stupid and insensitive and that I should forgive them for those shortcomings. After all, they're built that way, ya know?

GEEZ.

Guys, stop using these lines, right now:

"Do you want me to leave?"
If we really want you to leave, we would have said so. Stop trying to read what women are thinking. That's not something men are ever capable of. Oh wait, is this just another one of your lame escape routes?

"But I have had such a long day."
We all had to live through the same number of hours today. Just because yours felt longer doesn't mean you can start acting like a 2 year-old and like, piss us off, in the process.

"Are you jealous?"
Rule number 1. If men ever have to ask that question, the answer is always yes. We're women. We're built that way. No further explanation required.

Cari kerja

Kemarin job interview untuk yang pertama kalinya sejak pertengahan tahun lalu. 2 lawan 1. Kemampuan nge-bullshit gua sedikit karatan dan gua cengengesan di dalam ruangan. Mudah-mudahan kesan yang membekas di dua orang itu adalah gua anak yang ramah, bukannya dodol dan gak serius. We'll see, we'll see.

Boo!

This is my first official day of unvoluntary unemployment. Yup, I am no longer on holidays (although the visa I'm on is called Working Holiday Visa), and starting today I'll be throwing my resume around town.

On one side, I am looking forward to having a 'normal' life again where I can actually sound normal when people ask me, "So what do you do?". On the other, I am dreading the thought of having to subscribe to a schedule day after day, week after week, month after month, again. Oh humanity! Thinking about it makes me feel jittery, goosebumpy, and nauseous. Just awful, basically.

But I guess I can't live on my savings forever. I'm not that rich. Nor are the parents. Lol.

It is times like this that I wish the world operated a la Jacques Fresco. A moneyless economy. A society where people don't have to do jobs just to earn a living. A society where people live to learn and do things that interest them without having to worry that their wallets will get undernourished.

No, I'm not an idealist. I'm just lazy. And I'm trying to justify it.

Ensemble, c'est tout

Masih jetlagged. Buanget. Tipe kebangun jam 1.30 pagi dan nggak bisa tidur lagi sampai jem 10. Selera makan juga ikut-ikutan kacau. Tapi untung ke belakang masih lancar, kekekek, I'm sure you wanna know about that. Yah inilah efek samping pergi ke belahan dunia yang lain.

But that's just a minor matter; it's a (bad) habit of mine to start a blog entry with a whinge. Because right here, right now, I'm happy. All the things that were hanging over my head during the last six weeks are no longer. Separation is indeed the best medicine, sometimes.

"How long do you think before we get sick of each other?" I asked him while we were reading in bed last night.

"A couple of weeks," he said with that trademark serious look of his. "Love is fickle."

He's probably right. But I'm not worried about that. I'm still too busy playing this new game and enjoying being his 'petite poule'.

Instant Karma

Tadi sore gua melihat fenomena luar biasa. Ada orang yang bentuk badannya seperti kodok. Badannya bulet, kedua kakinya kurus, dan semua itu dibalut baju senam ketat. Yang terjadi selanjutnya adalah gua mulai membayangkan orang tersebut sedang melompat dari papan terjun kolam renang. Syuuut! Bagi gua sih itu lucu (banget).

Tapi Tuhan itu memang adil. Dan karma itu bukan hanya nama.

Karena barusan gua diberakin burung.

Giliran nyokap dan adik gua yang ketawa. "Tadi dia ngata-ngatain orang, sekarang di-e-e-in burung, hahaha!"

Untung cuma kena celana pendek gua dan bukan kepala gua. Well this is another reason why I want to leave this country. There are so many freaking seagulls here! And to think that this is the third time this lawlessness has happened to me.

Cerita gua belum selesai.

Barusan, ketika gua nyari-nyari gambar kodok di google untuk mendukung blog entry gua kali ini, gua menemukan gambar ini:



The keyword that I entered was 'human frog'. I guess I got what I asked for. Oh God, this image will haunt me forever. I'm really being punished. You can read the story here, but I hope it's just a hoax by someone who's really good at Photoshop.

S is for Suspense

Dari kemarin gua deg-degan gak karuan. Kayak orang abis minum Red Bull tiga kaleng. Tidur gak nyenyak, bangun super cepat. Jadi inget waktu SD, sehari sebelum terima raport. Hihihi, ngomong-ngomong dulu tuh gua lugu banget, kalau udah mo deket-deket terima raport, pasti isi-isi doa sebelum (dan sesudah) tidur gua bunyinya begini, "Tuhan, saya mohon supaya dapet ranking 1." Kalau dipikir-pikir, mungkin itu akar dari ketidakpercayaan gua dengan doa-doaan, karena dalam 6 tahun doa itu hanya terkabul sekali saja!

So there you go my friends, yang penting adalah usaha, bukan doa. God is just an observer who'll laugh at you when you fall on your ass.

Hari ini Jumat. Besok Sabtu. Lusa Minggu. (Yeah I know, this paragraph is lame.)

Setiap menit yang berlalu,
membawa aku lebih dekat dengan kamu.
Sampai ketemu hari Rabu,
jangan lupa jemput aku!

Splash!

Untuk urusan yang ngga-ngga, orang Indonesia memang paling jagonya (nggak heran gua jadi begini). Seperti yang kita semua udah tau, besarnya masalah transportasi di Jakarta tuh udah lebih dari luar biasa. Mobil pribadi terlalu banyak, sementara kendaraan umum terlalu sedikit - itu pun mayoritas udah pada reyot dan nggak layak untuk menyambut turis-turis yang diharapkan bakal datang tahun depan dalam rangka Visit Indonesia Year 2009. Get real!

Nah, salah satu masalah yang lagi diributin adalah penumpang liar di kereta api kota. Liar dalam arti bukan hanya nggak bayar, tapi duduknya di atap kereta, jadi membahayakan diri sendiri dan orang lain juga (karena dulu sempat ada atap yang jebol).

Karena usaha konvensional - seperti teguran atau jeweran - untuk memberantas hal ini tidak mempan, petugas-petugas kerapi itu akhirnya dapet ide cemerlang. Gak mau turun? Kita siram saja mereka dengan cat! Ini berita lengkapnya.

I wonder what SBY has to say about this!

Probably nothing, as usual.

Well that's Indonesia for you. A country where symptoms, and not the causes, are treated. A country where riding on the roof of trains can turn into a giant paintball party.

Hari ini dan beres-beres

Ada yang bikin hati berbunga-bunga hari ini. Dia bilang,

La seule chose qui m'a nui c'était ton absence. Reviens-moi vite SVP.

Gak percaya gua bacanya tadi siang. Ternyata si nyolot itu bisa mewek juga.

Malam ini gua memasuki tahap packing yang terakhir. Koper gua udah penuh! Padahal tas toiletries yang gemuk itu belum masuk. Beha kolor belum masuk juga (tapi untung yang ini gak makan banyak tempat... if you know me you'll know what I mean). Dan ohhh buku french grammar (peninggalan French101 di Usyd) yang bobotnya dijamin ampuh untuk ngebocorin kepala anak orang. Pupuslah harapan untuk membawa beraneka ragam beads yang tadinya gua pikir bakal berguna sekali untuk dijadikan kado ultah teman-teman (cewek) disana.

Inilah alasan mengapa gua yakin gua bukan reinkarnasi Noah yang dari alkitab itu. Bocor kali kapalnya kalau gua yg mesti nge-pak!

Barang-barang yang terpaksa gua tinggal di Sydney:
- Raket tenis
- Sepatu bowling
- Jam weker
- Guling
- Novel-novel Haruki Murakami
- 2 x figurine Precious Moments yang gua sayang banget

Oh harta benda... mengapa engkau harus ada?

She completes him

Bertahun-tahun berlalu, dan gua masih rajin baca blog (walaupun frekuensinya sekarang sudah jauh lebih rendah). Pagi ini gua membuka blog yang udah lama nggak gua kunjungi dan menemui tulisan ini:

I must be the luckiest person on earth to have you.

As a wife, lover, and most of all, as a best friend.I still remember what I promised you 5 years ago, during our engaged day. I said that I would give you the world. Or die trying to. And yet what I found was,

Orang yang gak minta banyak.
Gak minta apa-apa malah.
Orang yang selalu ada di samping gua.
Orang yang nerima diri gua yang angkuh dan rendah ini, apa adanya.

Kamu, yang tidak pernah minta prada.
Kamu, yang tidak pernah meninggalkan butiran nasi di atas piring.
Kamu, yang masih mengucap syukur di saat kita susah.

Kamu, alasan saya selalu bergegas ke rumah.
kamu, alasan saya bergegas ke kantor.
Kamu, alasan saya kuat menghadapi apa pun di dunia ini.

Thank you for standing by me.
Thank you for these 4 years.
Thank you for loving me.

I love you. Everyday.

------------------------------------------------------------

Tanpa gua sadari, mata gua jadi basah karena terharu. Sampai bulu mata gua ada yang copot dan nyemplung ke mangkok cereal yang baru setengah dimakan.

One day, I want to have a relationship like that. I want to want to accept him for who he is and who he wants to be. I want to want to stand by him. I want to want to thank him for loving me.

I want to be able to say, "I love you. Everyday." Even if I'll never know what love means.

Aku ingin begini, aku ingin begitu

Oh susahnya naikin berat badan. Kenapa gua nggak diciptakan sempurna seperti Heidi Klum??? Pffft...

Hehehe... banyak maunya deh. Maklum, udah jem 1 malem, pikiran udah mulai jalan-jalan ke hutan rimba yang penuh mara bahaya.

Ceritanya gua lagi mulai rutin minum protein shake lagi, karena 7 kilo ekstra yang berhasil gua raih tahun lalu sudah lenyap selama dua minggu pertama gua di Montreal, dimana gua yang terlalu pelit untuk beli tiket bis bersedia berjalan kaki kemana-mana. Nyusut lagi deh gua kayak balon yang umurnya udah tiga hari, walaupun ada hikmahnya juga karena sekarang pengetahuan jalan gua gak kalah sama supir taksi disana. So listen up all you overweight people out there: walking everywhere will help you lose weight!

Pokoknya tahun ini gua banyak maunya. Mau ndutin badan. Mau lebih jujur pada diri sendiri. Mau lebih rajin latihan nulis. Mau cari temen yang banyak. Mau bersikap dewasa dalam hubungan cewek-cowok (hayo lho, maksudnya apa tuh?). Mau lebih giat belajar masak (biar hubungan cewek-cowok makin lancar, hahaha!). Mau memperlicin bahasa Prancis (biar bisa ngobrol sama cowok Prancis yang kece-kece, amin!). Dan lain-lain.

If you have known me for a long time, you'll notice that that list is so different from my previous 'To do' lists. Especially number 4, 5, and 6. KW, the arrogant, emotionally self-sufficient (or so she thinks), "I can live without other people" bitch wants to make more friends? Wtf?

I guess people really do change, huh?

Say good night, not good bye

Sekarang ini lagi musimnya good bye. Sejak gua pulang, hampir setiap acara yg gua hadiri pasti ada hubungannya dengan farewell. Dan itu semua membuat gua capek. Karena ngucapin 'bye-bye' itu bikin gua sedih, walaupun acaranya sendiri nggak (justru kebalikannya).

Tinggal satu lagi acara farewell: makan malam minggu depan di bungalow8, untuk gua dan Eva yang mau pindah ke Hong Kong.

Gua... nggak... pingin... datang. (Andaikan tiket pesawat gua bertanggalkan Senin besok.)

Just reflecting

Hari-hari gua di Sydney hanya tinggal sesaat. Cieeee laganya kaya udah divonis kanker stadium 4. Hush ngaco.

Tapi gua emang ga bohong, bentar lagi gua bakal cabut lagi. Perasaan baru kemaren malem nyampe di airport. Keluar dari baggage claim, jalan ke bus stop (soalnya gak ada nyambut dengan karangan bunga beserta boneka teddy bear, dan gak ada pula yg nanya, "Eh ntar ada yang jemput gak?") dan nongkrong disono nungguin bis 400 sambil dengerin Organ Donor-nya DJ Shadow.

Terus terang, gua lumayan sedih juga bakal ninggalin tempat ini beserta isi-isinya (termasuk adik gua yang nyebelin). Karena gua merasa, walaupun so pasti gua bakal datang lagi ke Sydney, gua gak bakal balik lagi 'kesini'. Karena lembaran-lembaran hidup gua disini sudah habis. Sudah waktunya gua tutup buku - walaupun mohon jgn disamakan dengan gulung tikar.

Dan ortu gua pun semakin tua. (Rada-rada ga nyambung emang paragraf ke-4 ini, tapi ya semau gua dong.)

I guess all these things + the fact that I'm unemployed and using up my savings fast are making me a little bit melancholic right now.

Mood Update (because I want to)

After all those miserable (bordering on desperate) entries in the last couple of weeks - many of which have been taken offline since because they have the potential to ruin my cool chick reputation - I am pleased to announce that I'm no longer miserable (nor bordering on desperate).

Ternyata kita berdua tuh emang gengsinya segede gentong (walaupun gentong gua jauh lebih kecil dan imut).

Yang lucu hari ini

Karina says: lo ngapain aja nih
Yao says: kerja, poker, kerja, poker
Yao says: n kerja sambil poker
Yao says: hihi..
Karina says: online apa beneran?
Yao says: fesbuk
Karina says: ohh yg itu
Yao says: lo ga?
Karina says: hahaha mendingan ngga de
Karina says: ntar gw jadi candu jg
Yao says: saking addictive nya gua boker aja maen poker
Karina says: GROSS DUDEEEEEEEEE

Dan pada saat itu, gua baru nyadar... BOKER ITU NGE-RHYME SAMA POKER <--- asal ngucapin 'poker'nya dimirip-miripin sama pas ngucapin 'boker'.

Yang bikin gua ngakak hari ini

Karina says: Eh loe mo ketemu si Joni* gak?
Karina says: sapa tau makan dibayarin hauhauhua
sumiPan says: males gw nanti dicium dia jadi kodok
Karina says: hauhuahuahua apa coba
sumiPan says: gw ga kenal jg sama dia
sumiPan says: bibirnya kan kaya empal

*nama samaran

Sejak kapan bibir orang kayak empal jadi alasan untuk nggak mau ketemu? Kejamnya manusiaaaaaaaa :P

The greatest love story (is not mine)

My boy of the moment
is not that great with words
he belts out one-liners
even when I've written him a prose

What am I supposed to do
when you are there and I am here
words are all we've got
and you can't even give me that

Yesterday you said you weren't feeling well
I say... "RASAIN LO! Nyebelin sih!"

TGIF

Pasti deh. Tiap kali keluar sama anak-anak Challenger pasti pulang-pulang gua udah gak utuh. Sekrup-sekrup di badan pada copot sana sini. Asli tadi siang gua shitfaced banget. Jalan sempoyongan, isi perut pada muter-muter seperti di mesin cuci, dan yang paling bikin gua mau gantung diri... di dalam kepala serasa lagi ada marching band. Sengsara! Derita! Malapetaka!

Tapi yang pasti... semalam gua senaaaaaaang ;)

Definitely leaving on the 10th

Paid for my ticket today. One-way ticket to heaven. Ecstatic is how I am. And impatient. All the things I need are already inside the suitcase. I'm almost ready to go (again). This time I probably won't be back for a long long time.

Dreamer

Last night I had a dream.

I was back in Montréal, in my room preparing my CV to apply for a job. A dull dream in any case.

Still, waking up from it was so uncool.

Oleh-oleh dari Kanada

Tiga bulan dua minggu di Kanada. Karena gua pulang dengan tangan hampa, dalam artian gak bawa oleh-oleh yang biasanya berupa gantungan kunci, magnet kulkas, atau t-shirt, oleh-olehnya dalam bentuk cerita aja ya?

Gua sampai di Montréal hari Kamis, bulan Oktober 2007. Hari itu di Boston subuh-subuh banget gua udah bangun (subuhnya gua tuh jem 6...). Dari rumah temen gua jalan kaki sekitar 15 menit ke stasiun Harvard Square. Di luar masih semi gelap dan sedikit berkabut. Tas beroda satu, tas laptop satu. Kali ini gua lebih pinter ngatur barang bawaan biar ga heboh sendiri kayak pedagang kelontong keliling versi taon lalu di Eropa.

Perjalanan pakai bis dari Boston ke Montréal memakan waktu sekitar tujuh jam. Pertama-tama melalui highway - sedikit bosan - tapi gak lama kita udah meluncur di jalanan yang kanan kirinya hutan yang cantik banget pohon-pohonnya, berhubung waktu itu musim gugur. Sibuk deh gue potret sana sini dari balik kaca jendela... gak pernah sih ngeliat pohon yg warna daunnya pink semua! Sayangnya si supir bis rada ngebut jadi kebanyakan foto-foto tersebut akhirnya berakhir di tong sampah juga. Yang penting memori dong memori...

Berbekal instruksi dari Lana (flatmate gua disana), dari stasiun Berri-Uqam gua pun naik metro ke Place-des-Arts, dan dari sono naik bis 80 sampe ke rumah. Ada kejadian nyebelin disini. Pas gua naik bis, si supir kagak punya kembalian, padahal duit gua cuma $5, dan tiketnya $2.75. Siake. Mau gak mau turunlah gua dan dua anak gua, masuk lagi ke stasiun, dan nyari duit kecil.

Rumah gua disitu terletak di Avenue du Parc (atau bisa juga disebut Park Avenue). Gua sih lebih suka nyebut dengan nama yang pertama, biar kedengeran lebih sexy. Parc ini panjang banget dan, menurut instruksi si Lana, gua mesti pencet bel setelah ngelewatin Rue St-Viateur. Kedengerannya gampang kan? Iya gampang emang sebenernya... kalo elo bisa baca jauh. Masalahnya, gagang kacamata gua bengkok dan gak bisa dipake secara layak. Mesti dipegangin. Jadinya tiap kali gua ngeliat bakal ada nama jalanan di depan baru gua pake itu kacamata. St-Viateur bukan nih? Oh bukan. Copot lagi. Ulangi kira-kira sepuluh kali.

Gak lama akhirnya gua nyampe juga. Reaksi gua pertama kali (dalam hati) pas masuk ke rumah adalah, "Walah gua masuk ke sarang hippies!" Di salah satu sudut ruang tamu ada sekumpulan tanaman berbagai jenis. Di salah satu sudut yang lain ada berbaris-baris piringan hitam. Di atas kulkas ada patung kepala Elvis yang sorot matanya rada... nyeremin. Namanya juga Elvis, and Elvis is dead! Untungnya kamar gua ga nyeremin. Untuk pertama kalinya dalam hidup gua, gua punya ranjang loft! Seneng banget gua. Pasalnya waktu gua masih ingusan, gua sering banget melobi bokap nyokap untuk beli ranjang susun. Yang lebih oke lagi, di atas ranjang sono ada tempat kecil untuk membaca, dimana ada rak buku kecil-kecilan dan lampu. Imut banget deh, serasa di rumah pohon.

Malam pertama di Montréal gua pergi ke semacam Poetry Reading Evening di Sala Rosa, sebuah restoran Spanyol di Blvd St-Laurent, bareng dua flatmate baru gua. Yang bikin acara itu adalah anak-anak dari University of Concordia. Walhasil disana gua cuci mata.

Malam itu cuaca di Montréal menyenangkan, sekitar 20 derajat. Dalam perjalanan pulang kita mampir di dépanneur (istilah lokal untuk convenience store) dan Chesky's, toko kue milik orang Yahudi yang bikin cheesecake enak banget.

to be continued...

This blog is turning into one big soppy diary

There was a snow storm the day before I left. A big one. The kind that discouraged people from driving. So you and I trekked from your place to mine. It was Friday afternoon.

We went through this park near your house. The snow on our sides has piled as high as my knee.

I said, "Let's race!" So I started counting... three, two, one, go!

You were about two metres in front of me when I saw you suddenly turn around, ran back, and in what seemed like a flash, pushed me into a snow bank. I screamed in protest. "How could you!" And you laughed your ass off.

It was a cruel re-enactment of a David and Goliath fight, only this time the writer decided that luck wouldn't be on David's side. Finally, you pulled me out of the snow and then... you put your arms around me and we stayed there for awhile.

If there was ever a moment I want frozen in time, I would vote for that one.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

(Geez I need to get out of the house)

Clean Up My Room Day

You don't really know yourself until you have to... pack your life.

In preparation for the move to Montréal next month, I have started to clear out my room, which will be occupied by a new person tomorrow. It's not a big room but it sure can hold a lot of things, a fact that I have been discovering minute by painful minute today. It's not the room's fault, of course, but I wish there had been a device that screamed, "Throw that out!" everytime somebody (mostly me) placed some innocent-looking potential junk in it.

The good thing about today's cleanup is that I haven't found it difficult to throw things out. Gone are those clothes that I have not worn for at least two years. Gone are those undies that don't look like undies anymore (don't ask). Gone are those piles of papers that told a story about my past life (among others outdated CV's, payslips from eight years ago, boarding passes, and greeting cards from the nearby video rental store - wow they remembered my birthday... I must've been special!).

I am still twiddling my thumb over my massive collection of accessories though. I have tons of earrings... awww my pretty little babies, but I think I have to let you go!

So the onslaught continues tonight. Who will go? Who will stay?

Giant swimming pool with waves

Just because I'm leaving Australia doesn't mean I don't like it anymore. The place itself, is beautiful beyond words. I mean look, I live 10 minutes away from this.

Did I get the date right?

Hahaha gua baru nyadar kalo di post sebelomnya gua bilang "baru tanggal 16 februari" padahal tanggalan post-nya menunjukkan 15 februari. Bingung deh lo pada! Bukannya gua salah baca kalender, tapi gara-gara date settingnya di blog ini belum disesuaikan balik sama waktu Sydney.

Ya udeh, gitu doang, I just thought I'd better clear that one up... ga tenang gua kalo ngga.

Pake bhs Indo biar tu org ga ngerti

Barusan ngeliat kalender. Ya ilah, baru tanggal 16 Februari.

Kangen bo, kangen.

Today...
the minutes seem like hours
the hours go so slowly
and still the sky is light...

Ceileh pake nge-quote2 dari West Side Story segala. Padahal cuman kangen geblek a la anak abg, there's nothing Broadway about my silly little fling. Yah begini deh nasib gua. Jauh-jauh ke Kanada untuk menemukan (dan mengukuhkan!) kebebasan, tau-taunya kecantol sama lebah lokal.

Ya sud sud... that's it for now... lagi ga ada bahan pembicaraan yg lebih menarik, cuma lagi pingin ngoceh2 aja somewhere, somehow.

Happy Valentine's Day, suckers

It seems that everytime I read an Indonesian news website, I am reminded as to why I probably will never go back to that country to live. There are just too many idiots trying to call the shots there. And usually, about unimportant matters.

Like Valentine's Day, for example.

Here are some quotes which will either piss you off or make you laugh (or both).

"To celebrate this day that's called "love one another" day is against the principles of Islam." 'Cos like... Islam preaches hate?

"Valentine's Day is not compatible with our culture, [because] during such celebrations usually there are people kissing and hugging, which is sinful." Almost everything in Indonesia is sinful. Except spitting in the streets and taking a dump in the river.

"We have asked mosque officials to hold religious lectures for teenagers on Valentine's Day evening." Lame, dude! With our raging hormones we'd rather go somewhere else to, you know, kiss and hug.

"Our version of Valentine's Day should fall on the 28th of October because it was on that day that a bunch of young people declared their love for this nation." This suggestion could only have come from a nerd who never had a girlfriend and who took their primary school history books seriously.

*Indonesia's national day to commemorate a declaration made in 1928 by young Indonesian nationalists, proclaiming their nationalist principles.

That country is seriously fucked.

Home is where... my junk is

As we were flying closer and closer to the ground, I spotted a very familiar-looking brown tower on the horizon. Though not legible from where I was sitting, I knew that the tower bore the letters U, N, S, W.

The longest holiday of my life has officially ended.

Everything at home was still where it was when I left it four months ago. Including that picture next to my bed. But that's so insignificant compared to what has changed. And I don't ever want to go back to where I was. The worst is over and I can only look forward to better times ahead. Better times, indeed! And no one... not even some wonderful, handsome, funny, tall, short-haired dude with glasses (and commitment issues), can ruin that. I will take care of myself this year very well.

I just wish these coming 3 weeks will disappear tonight while I'm asleep.

Be afraid... be very afraid.

While browsing on the internet, fate stepped in (through an uninvited pop-up) and presented me with that sinister-looking plastic cup.

The Mooncup Menstrual Cup.


I wonder how many women have ordered that thing online, given that the woman in the picture does nothing for their advertising campaign. I mean look at her, her smile is screaming, "I've got a foreign object stuck in my canal and it ain't cool!"

Hate list V.1

1. Magazines that publish articles like "10 Signs He's Into You". The problem is that such guides usually leave us women more perplexed than ever. What if my man only shows 9 of the 10 signs? Does that mean I shouldn't marry him?

2. Singapore Airlines flight attendants who are extra nice to white men. I swear it's a brothel up there.

3. Men who pee carelessly in aeroplane toilets and leave their traces behind all over the seat and the floor. Fine I know the turbulence makes it harder to aim, but those paper towels are there to be used. If you happen to be one of those, here's a big fuck you to you.

4. People taking a dump in public toilets who wait until they're finished to flush the whole thing down, by which time their floating babies have had plenty of time to stink up the room. If your objective is to save water, copy the dogs and do it in your backyard.

5. People who update their status on Facebook every half an hour. Nobody cares that much about you, seriously.

It seems like yesterday

Once we were at this wine & cheese party. I complained to you that I didn't like wine. I said, "I'd much rather have beer". You asked me what my favorite beer was. "Corona," I replied. Then you left. A few minutes later you came back. With a 6-pack of Corona.

You probably do that to all your friends (because you're lovely like that), but still, that gesture will never be lost on me.

I miss you. Tu me manques. Saya kangen kamu.

Living with less

Last year just before I left for Canada I made a pact with the devil. I mean myself. It was to keep my posessions to a minimum.

• Only keep clothes, shoes, and accessories that I wear on a regular basis.
• Only keep digital music (no more CD's but I will keep my cassettes - these things played a role in defining who I am, after all)
• Only keep books I plan to re-read in the future, or at least those that have really changed my life (among those "The road less travelled").
• Only have one watch.
• Only have one bag for each occasion.
• Get rid of obsolete mementos (for example, pictures of ex-boyfriends older than 5 years old; the pictures, not the ex-boyfriends).

I haven't applied myself to these rules religiously, especially on Boxing Day when I treated myself to no less than 5 new t-shirts. I'm still struggling with the concept of 'less is more'. But I'm not giving up. Come February, I will clean up my old room (which will be up for rent). I'm turning over a new leaf.

The cold gives me funny thoughts

I've only known you for one month
I don't know who you are
who you've been
who you're going to be
or who you want to be
But right now I like you
and I think you like me too
I wish we could all function like animals
or Borat (I like you, I like sex)
who don't care less about feelings
and all the by-products that come with them
Maybe this time it'll be different
Maybe this time I'm going to make it right
Maybe this time it won't end with sorry

I don't care if I sound cheesy

I'm allowed to say anything I want on this blog, even if it does nothing to the embetterment of society. And this is what I want to say, and I'm going to say it because I have no one to talk to right now. Women have this constant need to express themselves, know what I mean?

My boy of the moment is pretty fucking awesome - though he makes me a little nervous sometimes. Wait, maybe that's why he's awesome. Anybody who can rattle my smug little comfort zone must have something special to bring to the table. Ooh and you know what else? He has beautiful eyes :)

I know I know, I am in deep, deep trouble.

On a cold night like tonight

Bambi eyes was here last night. In fact he just left half an hour ago.

...............................................................

But then what does this all mean?
Am I about to jump into that all-so-familiar territory again?
No, no, and no! I hear myself scream
But life is truly a box of chocolates
and lately it seems that I've been getting only the good ones
My dad warned me about the guys in this city
For once... he's right.