The End

I am... tired of this blog (a manifestation of my ADHD tendencies). Moving to Wordpress =)

The cheating gene

At least two cousins are getting married this year. And one getting a divorce. Sadly, it won't be the first one in the family. On that, I would like to reconfirm my belief in karma.

Here's the story. My cousin will be divorcing her husband because he cheated on her. Apparently he had been fooling around with this other woman and one day he suggested that she... move in with them. Sinting kan?

This evening, while I was mindlessly mashing ginger and garlic in the kitchen to cook my tofu, my mind flew to her and her family, specifically her mother, my aunt.

My aunt, at the time no doubt a feisty young woman, was a Chinese language teacher. She gave private lessons to rich people's kids in their homes. What followed was a classic soap opera storyline. She fell in love with one of her students' father, who also fell in love with her. He divorced his wife and married my aunt. The ex-wife allegedly committed suicide and one of the man's children became mentally unstable. Crazy, isn't it? My aunt, a homewrecker.

And now, a similar storyline seems to befall her own daughter. I wonder if she and her husband are now saying to themselves, "Gee, this looks familiar."

More time for myself

I recently approached my department head at work and asked, "Can I work just four days a week?" Thanks to the economic slowdown (yes, there's always something to thank for!), she said yes. So starting the second week of February, I have been a persona non grata in the office on Wednesdays. Of course, that means forgoing four or three days' worth of wages each month, but I can't help to think that it's a sweet deal. Work for two days, break, work for another two days, then break again. I originally intended this arrangement so I can have more time to practice writing and basically launch myself into a freelance writer. Credits to Malcolm Gladwell and his concept of the 10,000 hour rule.

But last Wednesday afternoon, as I was walking on Sherbrooke Street without a very defined destination, I realized how else those free Wednesdays benefit me. They keep me sane and unjaded from the debilitating routine of having a full-time job, living in a comfortable home and being in a steady relationship.

Those three things, I have realized, make me feel like I'm being nursed in a mental hospital, if I may use that rather dramatic illustration. You live in an environment where your needs are attended to and where you are kept safe from harm, but slowly and unknowingly, you start to lose yourself in your own comfort zone. You forget what else is out there and you've become too lazy to get up and find out.

I'm not saying I don't want my job. I'm not saying my home is a shit hole. I'm not saying I don't love my boyfriend. In fact, it's the total opposite. They could be my downfall because they make me comfortable.

Isn't it funny, absurd even, that I'm saying all this? When a lot of people out there are homeless, starving and heartbroken. Maybe it's just me, maybe it's human nature. We just can't help but fuck things up for ourselves.

I think I had a good weekend

Finally, I did it. I sent my very first query letter, proposing an article idea to the arts & life editor of the Montreal Gazette. I worked on that letter for the whole weekend. It was not unlike writing a cover letter to apply for a job. It is a job afterall.

They say that most query letters go unanswered and the key is just to keep trying, trying and trying. So I will!

Of course, I didn't spend the whole weekend tweaking that letter. On Saturday I went to this ceramic studio cafe with Perrine and we spent no less than four hours there. I think I've found a new favourite hang out place in this city. It is a combined cafe and place where you can paint ceramics. If it sounds boring, wait til you see the collection of ceramic objects to choose from. There were more than just mugs, plates and bowls. The massive variety takes up the entire second floor of the cafe. I chose to paint a teapot for my recently acquired habit of drinking green tea. In keeping with the theme, I painted green turtles on it. It won't be until the coming Saturday when I can see take home the result, though. My teapot is currently being 'baked' in the oven along with Perrine's blue salamander mug.

I spent a quiet Sunday staying at home until around 4pm when my mood started to deteriorate and I just had to get out of the house. That's my body's normal reaction when kept inside for too long and too long means more than half a day. Also, the bad mood could have something to do with my failed cooking attempt at lunch. The menu I had in mind was chicken with carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, mushrooms with creamy mushrooms sauce on couscous. This is how the events unfolded: first I burned the mushroom sauce, then I burned the couscous and in the frantic scene that followed, I forgot that I had carrots frying madly behind me. I turned around and voila, the carrots had turned black too. It was probably my worst culinary failure. What kind of idiot burns sauce? In the end I made do with some 'saved' carrots, chicken and cauliflower (the broccoli turned out to have kinda yellowed in the fridge...), flavoured with Lee Kum Kee's black pepper sauce. By this stage, I was no longer hungry and just wanted to bury my head in the pillow and cry!

Later on we went out for a walk at Parc Lafontaine and I was glad we did because there were lots and lots and lots of doggies to look at! There was a baby Rottweiler who chose to follow me into the icy surface of the park and the poor thing, not knowing what lay ahead, jumped in and slipped! I think that scene brightened my mood instantly.

Orang nyolot di kantor

Salah satu orang di tim gua di kantor baru-baru ini resign. Hari Jumat ini hari terakhir dia kerja. Gua seneng banget. Senenggggggggg banget.

Mungkin gua udah pernah cerita tentang dia di blog ini. Mungkin belum. Yang pasti, udah gua blog atau belum nggak mengurangi betapa menyebalkannya orang ini. Pertama-tama, tampangnya bikin gua pingin kentut. Kedua, cara pakai bajunya bikin gua beneran kentut. Ketiga, gaya jalannya bikin gua mencret! Perihal penampilannya yang bikin gua stres, rambut orang ini selalu rapi jali (dengan bantuan hair gel dan antek-anteknya yang pasti). Lalu, gaya berpakaiannya dia sangat sok skateboard, dengan jeans yang ujungnya digulung, memamerkan sepatu ketsnya yang bermerk. Ditambah lagi kerah kemejanya yang selalu ditata keatas. Semua itu dibawa jalan dengan postur peacock (dada dan dagu keatas). Ekstrim gak tuh? Tapi itu belum semua! Pasalnya, orang yang sama ini juga punya gaya bicara yang membuat gua berkomentar seperti, "Ih lu najis ya?" tiap kali dia buka mulut. Dan baru-baru ini, gara-gara ada sedikit restructure di kantor dan dia dipindahkan ke tim gua, gua notice kalau dia punya iPhone.

Pertama kali gua lihat dia dengan mainannya ini adalah ketika tim kita makan malam bersama. Gua ingat, waktu itu kita lagi ngobrol tentang bubble tea. Namanya juga bule, konsep bubble tea yah masih sangat asing untuk mereka, jadinya gua dan satu teman yang lain mencoba jelasin ke mereka apa sih yang dimaksud bubble tea ini, ketika tiba-tiba si A mengeluarkan iPhone-nya dan di layar iPhone tersebut tertera sebuah webpage mengenai bubble tea, komplit dengan penjelasan dan asal usul tapioka. Sah-sah aja sampai sini. Resehnya, dia nggak berenti-berenti main dengan iPhone-nya itu. Orang-orang lain ngobrol, dia malah ngutak-ngatik itu barang. Lagaknya kayak businessman yang punya banyak appointment. Hahaha, emang gua bitchy kali ye?

Tapi tunggu dulu, cerita gua belum selesai. Ternyata! Di kantor pun, dia gak bisa terpisahkan dengan iPhone-nya ini! Orang-orang sibuk ngoceh-ngoceh di telepon (urusan kerja maksudnya), jari-jari dia dan iPhone-nya sibuk sendiri di bawah meja. Aduh, pathetic banget. Kayak anak SD yang sembunyi-sembunyi main Game & Watch di dalam kelas. Ngomong-ngomong, masih ada yang inget Game & Watch gak? Gua hobi banget tuh main Game & Watch waktu masih kecil.

Home sweeeeet home

After spending hours browsing the net looking at people's DIY home decoration projects (this is the main culprit: www.apartmenttherapy.com), I've decided to take the plunge.

Today, I painted one of my walls with black chalkboard paint. Which means that I'll be able to write stuff on that wall and easily wipe it off - just like in the old primary school days! Things that I have envisioned to write on that wall include:
1. Calendar for the month
2. Growth chart (although I don't think I'll grow any further, but it'll be a handy super long ruler)
3. Shopping list (unfortunately this will be hard to carry to the grocery store...)
4. Outing plans for the month

In addition, I spray painted one of the plain Jane Ikea dining chairs. I picked a purplish blue colour to go with the yellow cushion. The result looks rather shabby chic, which I'm rather pleased about. Someone's got to put some feminine touch to balance out the zen of this place, hehehe. Now I have to decide if I want to paint the table blue or yellow or another colour altogether. I'm thinking... black, to go with the chalkboard wall that stands right behind it.

Excited. Very, very excited.

Just need to chat right now

I wish I didn’t have to finish off those tax obligations back home, one of them is a few months overdue, hanging off my skinny back. As each day passes, I feel their fangs coming closer and closer. Yet, menacing as these tasks are, I don’t feel compelled to get them over and done with. My writing pursuit comes first. Funny, I feel embarrassed typing out that last sentence.

I’ve read countless articles on being a freelance writer, finding article ideas and writing query letters. I can probably start a book on these subjects without ever having had a feature article in any newspaper with my name as a byline. I guess you can say that I’m overqualified as a freelance writer. The way a 25 year-old Master’s graduate who has never had a job in his field of study is overqualified for his first job.

I cringe every time I think that I’m wasting precious hours in my day job, conducting mind-numbing interviews. When I say mind-numbing, I don’t mean it’s a brainless job, it just means that I’ve known the job so well that I can talk, type, grab a marshmallow, answer an IM message and pick my nose at the same time. My point is, it’s not a bad job, but after almost one year, it is starting to get mechanical.

I did try to do something about it though, spice up my professional life a bit and apply to no less than three internal positions. Failed. Being (or striving to be) someone with high self-esteem, I attribute that to lack of preparation rather than incompetence. But if I want to be more honest, I suspect that I failed because I didn’t really want those jobs. No no, I wanted those jobs, but I didn’t desperately want them. Get the difference? So perhaps, just perhaps, the interviewers caught a whiff of that insincerity.

Happily, I can feel things starting to come together for me. I’ve started writing a query letter, though I’ve stopped short of explaining what my article will actually contain. Ha! But we all start from the bottom, right?

For the second time in my life, I am opting to take the lonely path. That of breaking away from a Monday to Friday, nine to five (or in my case ten to six) job, though this time I am still retaining some of that lifestyle. Mostly for the money, but also to retain a bit of sanity. Repulsive as the word may sound, I do need some form of a r.o.u.t.i.n.e.

I thought 2007 was my year of soul searching and I thought I was satisfied with the results. No. It was just the beginning.

Ocehan Minggu malem sebelum besok kerja lagi

Sudah setahun di Montreal. Cepat sekali waktu berlalu ya? Tahun 2008 berlalu sangat cepat, seperti kereta tanpa rem. Kemana perginya Jumat-Jumat malam dimana gua main kartu semalem suntuk sama roommates gua sambil makan nachos? Kemana perginya akhir pekan-akhir pekan di musim panas dimana gua gak ada capek-capeknya ngiter kota naik sepeda? Kemana perginya sore-sore dimana gua bela-belain naik bis satu jam buat ketemu si doi? Hehehe... (walapun kalau dipikir-dipikir lagi, ga produktif banget sih?)

Ingin rasanya supaya ingatan gua tentang akhir tahun 2007 dan 2008, masa-masa awal gua kenalan dengan kota ini, dibekuin supaya tidak kadaluwarsa. It was the time of my life where I found myself saying, "Life is beautiful."

Ini musim dingin gua yang kedua disini. Sudah mulai ngerti gimana caranya supaya jari-jari kaki nggak kena frostbite. Sudah ketemu restoran Thai yang pad thai-nya seenak bikinan Benjarong (lebih enak malah?). Dan yang paling penting, sudah punya orang yang bisa diandalin kalau gua ketemu susah.

Gua teringat suatu malam di stasiun metro Peel, kalau nggak salah November 2007. Sambil menunggu kereta datang, tiba-tiba tercetus ide untuk menghabiskan dua tahun mendatang di kota yang berbeda-beda. Tiga bulan di sini, tiga bulan lagi di sana. Gitu terus, sampai dua tahun. Membayangkan gimana serunya gaya hidup kaya gitu, gua excited banget. Sampai deg-degan sendiri. Sesampai di rumah, gua langsung menyalakan komputer dan menulis email ke kakak gua tentang rencana itu.

Fast forward satu tahun, apa yang terjadi? Gua masih disini. Dan gua nggak punya rencana untuk pindah ke kota lain, seenggaknya dalam dua tahun mendatang. Gua udah ketemu 'rumah' gua dan masih senang-senangnya mengutak-ngatik rumah itu, menanam bunga di tamannya dan mengecat dinding di dalamnya.

Tahun ini gua banyak rencana. Memang, belum tentu semuanya tercapai. Tapi yang pasti, gua excited dan deg-degan. And it's a good feeling.

Indonesia's response to Israel's attack into Gaza

I wrote the following essay during the first few days of Israel's attack into Gaza, which started in the last week of December. It is an opinion piece that I subsequently sent to The Jakarta Post. It did not get published and the opinion editor explained to me that it was because "we demand clear attribution to our articles". Which means that I better get myself some sort of political science degree if I want to have my opinion on this kind of subject published. Oh well. If you decide to read it, though, keep it mind that it was based on the early reports of the attack.

A handful of Indonesian online readers have made comments responding to the news that our government has pledged to send some US$1 million worth of humanitarian aid to the Palestinian victims of Israel’s latest bombings in Gaza. Interestingly, most of the comments clearly indicate which side they are on: neither the Palestinians, nor the Israelis. Rather than commenting on the number of civilian casualties or the right and wrong of the invasion, nearly all of these readers expressed disbelief and annoyance that the government is so ready to dispense such an amount to people above their own. Given the pitiful state of our own economy, it is no doubt a sentiment shared by many others in the country.

What the readers did not make a comment on, however, is how self-righteously our government is in condemning the attack.So far, while speaking at press conferences about the topic, the government ministers have not made any reference to the reason why this bombing took place at the first place. They are either unaware or ignore the facts that the Hamas group had been launching rockets to Israel, blindly and daily, before Israel finally decided to initiate the bombings. Also, while the government laments the civilian casualties that the bombings have claimed, they are also – or choose to be - ignorant to the fact that Hamas members disguise themselves as civilians and operate within the civilian population. How is a bomber pilot, flying hundreds of feet above ground, able to differentiate a Hamas from a non-Hamas if they are all wearing civilian clothing? The only thing they keep their eyes open for then, it seems, is the fact that the victims are Muslims – people like us - and the perpetrators are Jews – people who, by indoctrination, we do not like.Some say that Israel overdoes it on the scale of the retaliation because while Hamas rockets flew daily into Israel's civilian territory, they have killed far fewer than the 320 victims that Israel's bombs have claimed so far. And by definition, they are right. Israel is indeed overdoing it. After all, retaliation is defined as: return of like for like. But beyond that, let's stop and put ourselves in the Israelis’ shoes. They may not have got hit by Hamas rockets, but does living under the threat that they might this day or the next make it any better? In any case, we are talking about retaliation on a national defence level which in Israel’s case, there is the extra weight of defending its right to exist. A dictionary definition of retaliation has no relevance.

We can perhaps liken this situation to the ultimate US retaliation against Japan: the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki that ended World War II. The history is clear cut: Japan brought the US rudely into the theatre of war by bombing Pearl Harbour, an act which cost 2400 lives. In the end, the US decided to end Japan's aggression by bombing their two cities and in doing so, claiming 220,000 lives. It was definitely not a return of the like for like, but as 'beneficiaries' of these atrocities, have we, as a nation, cried foul condemning that particular US action? After all, though the method of their retaliation will always remain in an ethical debate, the desired result – Japan’s surrender – was in our interest, as was the case for other countries under the Japanese occupation. We rejoiced over the deaths and sufferings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki's civilians because effectively, thanks to their destroyed lives, we were finally able to claim our independence and build our own lives.

And so, in responding to Israel's action over Hamas, our government must always keep itself in perspective. It must try to prevent its personal feelings from seeing the facts, and the fact is that this is just another border conflict, whose participants could easily be Baltic, European, Asian or Middle Eastern countries. Taking sides with anyone just because they – victim, perpetrator or both – share our religion will only further damage Indonesia’s credibility. Even if we ideologically ‘belong’ to that part of the world that denies Israel’s existence, let’s face the facts. Israel is strong both militarily and financially. It is also an ally of the most powerful nation in the world. Whether we like it or not, Israel is here to stay.

And finally, while an act of charity is indeed a wonderful thing, let’s not overdo it – after all, millions of our own desperately poor people could benefit from a tiny bite of that US$1 million pie.

A day-off

Today is that kind of day. First, you wake up late. Then you spill your cereal on the kitchen floor. And you find out that you've run out of paper towel. So you quickly clean it up and take a shower. You have a lot of errands today, the first being going to the bank, naturally. You get there - yay there is no line - but then the bank teller tells you that the service you're after does not exist. With a dejected facial expression, you limp away from the counter towards the exit. Then you remember that while there, you also have to change your address. You turn around and see that, out of nowhere, there are now at least five people in the line. After a 10-minute lull that seems like 40 minutes, it's your turn. The bank now knowing where you really live, you happily walk out of the bank towards your next destination: a bank that offers the first service you're after. Logically, you pick the most popular bank. There, a bank teller greets you and asks how you are, but in a tone that suggests that he doesn't care about his job, nor about you. He then proceeds with telling you that you need to go to another part of the branch to request that service. You go there and voila, there is no one. A little note on the glass window asks you to go to the receptionist, strangely situated further inside the room. You explain what you need and then you are sent back to the window to wait for someone to be dispatched there. You twiddle your index finger on the counter top. Just because. Then a face appears behind the window. It's the same person that greets you beforehand. He tells you that the other person is not available. That's okay. What matter is that finally, someone will take care of you. Or not. The most popular bank , you are told, does not offer that service either. Try the bank next door, he says. This time with a genuine smile. You feel a little better. It's true that happiness is contagious, isn't it? Walking to the bank next door, you start putting together the introduction of a letter of feedback to your bank. Which quickly gets shelved, because finally, finally you find a bank that can give you what you need. The teller seems to be on another planet, though. It is not after two torn cheques later that you have what you need neatly tucked in your bag. Perhaps she is having the same kind of day as you. After a brief feeling of relief, you realize that your errands are far from over. You have only just ticked off the first item on your list. Next, you need to get yourself two passport photos. Tired of walking around, you go straight to the information desk. You want to know where the instant photo booth is. You see two men at the desk. One is serving a customer on a wheelchair. One of those that tells you that the user has far more troubles than just not being able to walk. You stand in front of the other staff that is not occupied. His attention is on the wheelchaired customer. Finally, he realizes that you are there. You say hi. Not saying anything first but smiling, he points to the writing on his t-shirt. You don't get it. And after awhile he gets that you don't get it. "Promotions," you hear him say. Your question is not about promotions, so you take your place behind the wheelchair. Another introduction to a letter of feedback pops into your head. Then you spot it. The photo both is on the ground floor, next to the ice cream shop. You take the stairs down quickly, congratulating yourself on your sharp eyesight. As you get nearer, you notice that the booth looks unusually artsy. Is this how they make photo booths these days? Yes, it turns out, if the photo you are after is your own caricature version. You nearly kick the otherwise innocent photo booth. Nearby, thankfully, is an information board. Good, there is another photo booth in the building. Even better, it's close to the post office, your final destination. Finally, everything falls into place. You go inside the booth, take off your bulky jacket and comb your hair. You skim through the instructions quickly. You don't really understand, but then you think, what's not to understand about instant photo booths? So you insert two $2 coins into the slot. Next you press the green button, while keeping your eyes fixed on the instructions, to really make sure that you are doing it right. The next thing you know, a flash light floods the room, catching your face in the process. Shit. Is that it? you think. Before you know it, the machine has gone to work to fulfil its advertised 3-minute promise. You frantically look for some sort of cancel button. There is none. You curse yourself rudely, hoping that your facial expression that appears on the photo is still within the acceptable range of what the Canadian Consulate General allows. "The face must be square to the camera with a neutral expression, neither frowning nor smiling, with the mouth closed." The result comes very close, but you decide to throw it away. Though not mentioned in the rule, you are certain that a confused expression with upward looking nostrils featuring in the photo will do more harm than good to your application. By this time, you are totally, unapologetically upset with your day. But you go on. You have no choice. You ask at the pharmacy if they do passport photos. They don't, but there is a shop in the building next door that does. So you go there. Yes, the place does do passport photos. In fact, it's the only thing that it does. No grey areas there. You pay the $14 fee and sulkily sit yourself on the stool. Click. It's done. The guy shows you the result. You look like a lettuce. But you don't care. You just want to go home. One last thing to do. The post office. You put the documents in the envelope and watch the guy seal it, stick a registered post label on it, and you sigh a big relief. Finally it's over. You start walking out of the post office. For what can be classified as a miracle though, something tells you to stop and check again. Has everything indeed been put in the envelope? You quickly realize that the answer is no. You frantically go back to the counter. The guy hands you back the envelope. You put the forgotten item in, all the while thinking what else might you be forgetting. You double and triple check everything. Satisfied, you walk out of the post office and out of the building. You head home. Hungry, tired and cold. It has started to snow again. A lot. Back at home, you sit down and drink a glass of water. You smile and say to yourself, "I made it." Then a jolt. You realize you have forgotten to buy an onion.

Hello 2009!

New year, new home. Moving in with the boyfriend. Third move within a one-year period (fourth if moving to a new country is included in the count). Cramming in two grown-ups' worth of necessities and junks into a studio apartment. A crazy, seemingly impossible feat that has manifested into a rather weirdly cosy establishment, with the sofa placed diagonally almost in the middle of the room, its right end nearly touching the bed.

This living arrangement means neither of us has our own personal space. Practical implications: I'll have to live with the football game commentaries coming from the TV and he'll have to live with my obsession to keep everything clutter free and crumbs free.

It's Saturday morning, the first of 2009. I'm happily typing away at the dining table and he's happily reading his weekend newspaper on the couch. The TV is off (happily). In its place: incomprehensible old French music, and the quietly humming sounds of my laptop and the refrigerator. It's definitely not what I had imagined a year ago, but I like it and with a little luck, maybe I won't have to move again in six months.