I have been noticing this for quite a while now that my windows are facing the direction of O'Hare International Airport. The distance between us is actually 20 something miles away and I can't actually see the airport, but everyday that I sit on this chair (aka my throne) where I do my daily interaction with the outside world through the gate of internet, I can see the planes passing by, slowing down, shifting lower and lower. Then I would just stare and guess where it came from?
Is it from Hawaii?
From Tokyo?
From Rio?
From Rome?
From Vegas?

Then a story contemplated in my head. This plane came from Rio. The people inside it just had the vacation of their life. There, it's sunny and beautiful, the sand is white, the ocean can't be any bluer, coconut trees are everywhere. And none of them has coconut fruit (because it can hit your head and that wouldn't be the vacation of your life anymore). The pina colada there is unsurpassed. People wear sarong and sunglasses. The hotels are gorgeous and the clubs are awesome, they have the best apple martinis.
Then the song "Down in Brazil" played mentally in my head "Down in Brazil, it takes a day to walk a mile, time just stand still..."

Then another plane passed by.
Now this one came from Tokyo, They have the best sushi there, I went there once,... and I went to this one beautiful temple and drank water from the well there. Legend has it that if you drink the water, and make a wish, then your wish will come true.
I made a wish there, but I can't, for the life of me, remember what it was.
I want to go there again and make another wish. This time I'll make a note and put it in my wallet.

Sigh... I crave having a vacation.

Finally the heat has died down this evening and the sky granted us some rain.
I opened up my windows and welcomed the winds to blow in. I pressed my nose against the screen to catch a glimpse of Chicago skyline to no avail. The rain blocked my view.
It's till hot and humid, but it's better than yesterday. I think I'm allergic to my own sweat, and I spent the day yesterday scratching my head.
Anyhow, my day was okay. I forgot that my boss was on vacation and spent the first few hours of my morning wondering where he was.
Is that a sign of getting old or stress?
I hope none of the above. I hope it's just the effect of the long memorial day weekend.
Speaking of getting old, I found a strand of grey hair about 3 weeks ago. I plugged it out and took a good look at it before I threw it out. The base was black, then about an inch or two it went totally white, then it's black again.
It's one confused grey hair.
Again, is that a sign of getting old, or stress?
Now, speaking of stress, I shoot some hoops with my boyfriend yesterday at a nearby park. It was pretty de-stressful. Then I found some swings in the playground next to it.
Guess what I did.
You got it.
I rode the swing.
It was even more relaxing than spa.
There was this kind of de ja vu-ish kind of feeling when I rode it. Something that felt so familiar, the tingling feeling in your stomach, the rush of wind combing through your hair. The beat that's skipped from your heart when you swing down from the highest point. It was very juvenile. My heart was pounding with excitement.
Never underestimate the joy of swing.
Getting older, I notice that I'm more afraid of height then when I was a teenager. Especially then my boyfriend pushed me from behind and I swung harder than Tarzan.

Yesterday, I found my forgotten inner child, thank God I haven't lost it.

Yesterday I was looking for some air filter for my car at Walmart and was going through the list to find my type of car & what type the air filter should be, when all of a sudden, I guy ask me in a raspy scratchy voice "Do you need any help finding anything?"
At first I thought he worked for Walmart, but, no worker at Walmart would wear jeans to work and have no name tag, don't you think?
So, the bitch inside of me starting to react and I just said "I'll find it." without even looked at him and just kept on staring at the list.
Then he said okay and left, which then lead to me feeling bad for being 'not nice'.
But after 2-3 minutes later he showed up again and I was still there with the list and he asked again "Are you sure you don't need any help with that?"
Now, okay...
FIRST OF ALL!!! I said I'll find it and that should leave to a conclusion that I don't need any help, even though after minutes later I was still not done with the list.
SECONDLY!!! And this is kind of personal, but, I don't like being asked again and again whether I need help with something because I am not some bimbo who thinks that buffaloes have wings and mistakes tuna for chicken. Do I look stupid or what? It's air filter list, not rocket science.
And If I don't find it then I will ask someone who officially work for Walmart with blue apron with slogan "HOW CAN I HELP YOU?" who's not creepy looking.
So, I looked at him straight in the eyes, paused for a second to make sure that this time he heard it and said... "No."
He smiled and shrugged and tilted his head to the side and said "Okay", like it is natural to go to a store and insist people to take his help.
CREEEEPY!
The eastern culture inside of me said that I have to be nice to people, but sometimes when you are nice to people, the creepy strangers would just work their way into a conversation or something and man, I'm just not up for that.
And I am a nice person, believe it or not. Just don't press my button, that's how my roommate describe it.

Then later on I told my boyfriend about the creep and he said "do you wear this shirt when you went to Walmart?"
"Yes."
He smiled and said only one sentence "Then, that's why he was so into making conversation with you."

I wore a low cut tank top.

Sigh... the different perspectives of male and female.

I am nervous about my wedding. Very very nervous.
Not cold feet about it, but more like, nervous about all the things that I actually need to take care of, and haven't yet.
And as if, one wedding is not enough, I might have two receptions and two different church ceremonies. My mom wants to invite 1000 people and I'm fighting for 500 people.
Still fighting. It ain't over till it's over.
And I don't want the conventional kind of wedding where you stand for hours greeting people that you hardly know and after 3 hours, your feet are sore and your hand smells like grilled mutton.
I want to sit.
And eat.
And listen to the music.
And be able to talk with my groom, and not being under the hot spotlight.
I want a small wedding. The smaller the better. What matters to me is the people I know. And the flowers. And the music, and the food. But not the quantity of how many people I manage to invite.
If it is up to me, then I bet we'd just elope to Vegas, take a lot of pictures as proof, then go straight to the honeymoon.
Then we'll just post an ad in the local newspaper saying:

We did it!
BlueCactus and Dimcorner have eloped!
Don't bother calling us to congratulate, because right now we are sunbathing in the Caribbean.

Ah.... that would be perrrrrfect. Very tempting. Because honestly, I don't care what people think.
But, being a good daughter that I am (wink), I care about my parents' feeling.
And because of that, I have to wake up now and go back to reality and plan the two receptions and the two church ceremonies (which leads to two dresses, and many other twos).

I fell asleep earlier today & woke up in panic when I saw the bedside clock said 8:07, and I thought I missed worked.
But, after consciousness sank in, I realized that it is 8:07 PM. Not AM.
Sigh... yeah, that's what happens when you being a lazy ass on Sunday.
It's funny now that I think about it. The first thing that came to mind was: I need to call in and tell someone that I'm going to be late. Now, what the best excuse for me being late?
Hmmmppfff... excuse... excuse...

But you know, today is not too bad since I went to this pottery painting place. I just have to find a hobby... that's what I thought to myself, before I become challange-less, drive-less, shower-less couch potato.
It turned out that I had so much fun there. I thought I have fulfilled the purpose of Sunday, which is to think nothing of work and throw away money for nothing really important. Like the pottery that I painted, which was a cereal bowl.
And I don't eat cereal.

Speaking of throwing money away, isn't it funny that when you walk in a store determined to buy something, most likely you won't find what you're looking for? And when you just walk to a mall with no expectations, you walk out with something that wasn't in your agenda... like a dark pink strapless dress that's on sale, the last one in the store, and in your size. AND when you tried it on 'just for the heck of it' you stare in the mirror thinking, "this freaking dress was made especially for me." "This dress looks fabulous on me. NO! I look fabulous in this dress" "Crap! Now I have to buy it. Now... let's think... where can I wear this dress to?" "Argh, doesn't matter, ... I'll think of an occasion to wear this dress to".

I guess, each one of us have what they call suppressed memories. The memories that we choose not to remember and bury deep down our subconscious mind.
I think that's what I thought happen to the memory of me putting my dog to sleep. My dog's name was Panda. No, it's not a panda, it's a dog named Panda.
And he grew older we called him grandpa instead.
So, there I was, watching Grey's Anatomy when Grey had to put the dog to sleep. And that dog just looked like Grandpa. And the vet injected it with the drug to stop its heart. Just like my vet did to Grandpa.
I was staring at it and all of a sudden, memories came rushing and flashing before my eyes.
I was crying in the doctor's office. My dad held me. Grandpa was lying with a big fat needle stuck right into his heart. And I could see it moving with the rhythm of his breathing until it finally stopped.
And I carried the body home in a box. And I couldn't stop crying for the rest of the day.
Then, I tried to move on & buried the horrid memory of the visit to the vet, until today.
He was a good dog. Grandpa. He liked mango and stir fry vegetables, believe it or not. He had pink nose and curled up tail. He was handsome, and I think, I should think of him more. Not the sick part, but the happy part.
I hate corny things, but I have to say, that every time my dog died, I grow a hole in my heart, with the shaped of it. And, as time goes by, I found that the pain was just ignored, but never really disappeared. Just like I found out today.
I looked at my blog and thought of how it is so full of memoirs of my dead dogs.
Like a memorial site or something. But they are my darlings. I told my boyfriend just now, that I have decided to not have dogs anymore. For the rest of my life. I don't know if I'm going to stick by it, but I can't go to the vet with a scenario like that again. Ever. And I won't let my boyfriend have the same experience.
And now, I still have two more at home in Jakarta. Two 104-year-old dogs.
If they are human, guess how high their insurance rate is?
Yeah... exactly my thought.

Dave Spritz: The first time I was struck with something, a chicken breast from Kenny Rogers. I was standing next to a garbage pail. I thought it might've been an accident, that they were throwing it out. The second time, it hit me square on the chin, a soft taco. Then, pop. A falafel. McNuggets. Always fast food. Fast food. Shit people would rather throw out than finish. It's easy. It tastes all right, but it doesn't really provide you any nourishment
[pause]

Dave Spritz: I'm fast food.

-The Weather Man-

I found this line very funny. But... should I say that when I am working for a fast food company?

The Constant Gardener

I watched the Constant Gardener last week and to my surprise, it was a very inspiring movie. There was, however, no entertainment value. There is no Hollywood ending whatsoever, it's not a feel good movie, you will feel like crap, depressed and sad altogether afterwards. And if you are Angelina Jolie, maybe you will start adopting more children from Africa.
Every time I watch a movie that arises the issues in Africa, I always feel depressed, and ashamed of all the petty little complaints I have about life. There are just so many things to be done there, and yet, there is no oil, or other kind of beneficial resources for the super power countries worth fighting for and interfering to. Let alone the reason of humanity.
And there I was, sitting in front of my TV. Depressed and sad, and I looked at the clock, oh... 9 PM, Grey's Anatomy will start in no time.
And life goes on.
People see the movie, got the message, feel touched by it, but then... what to do?
So there we are, me and the rest of the world, in our little bubbled world, and the Africans with their poverty, hunger, health and welfare issues, living in parallel and uncrossed paths.

As Urban As You Can Get

Quoting my boyfriend about Naperville, IL: "This is as urban as you can get in the suburb." We went there and spent our evening just walking on the riverside & downtown & taking pictures.

We saw the Budwiser's horse (I don't know why this is such a big deal, but moving on...) and I touched the horse while my boyfriend took a picture. I was smiling but my mind was thinking, please, horsey, please... please don't pee or poop while I'm just inches away from you.

It's a big beautiful horse. I love seeing animals that are well kept & healthy. The horse looked like it has enough food, enough bath, enough tender love and care. It brings warmth to my heart.
I heart animals, with the exception of bugs and reptiles.

Downtown Craving

I don't know why all of a sudden I missed downtown so much. I was walking on the parking lot. It was past 6 PM and all my work was done. Today was a beautiful day, a bit cool, but still in a comfortable range. The sun was still shining, the sky was blue. It was a perfect afternoon.
I got into my car, opened the windows turned on the radio, and I sat there. For a few minutes, just trying to empty my mind and get settled.

Then I thought, how perfect it would be, if I live in downtown. I could go home, wear my gym shoes and just walk a few block to the beach. Not to do some workout (gee, no), but just to get some fresh air and shake off my work stress of my system.
I remember that I and my boyfriend planned to wait for the summer then rent some bikes and bike on the lake shore. But now that I moved here, I don't think we're going to drive for 25 miles, then try to find parking for another 30-60 minutes, walk to Navy pier, then rent a bike. Yeah, ain't going to happen.

My life is funny, when I lived in downtown, I lived in a budget and hence, couldn't get out more and lavishly 'enjoy life'. Classic story of a student/fresh graduate. And now, I have my income, but my form of recreation is going to a forest preserve and take some pictures. Or to the zoo and get really excited to see a lion.
I really really R E A L L Y miss downtown, honestly sometimes it hurts when I drove down there, just passing by the streets that I used to walk along with my friends, the stores that I used to visit or the crappy chinese restaurant which the lady owner was very fond of my roommate.
Having memories can be a bitch sometimes, but then again, this comes from me, a person who doesn't like being all sentimental or, maybe I should say, doesn't like to appear sentimental.

So, a few weeks ago, I went to the pancake house near my old apartment, and guess where we got the parking spot? Right on the side of the apartment building. That apartment is the nicest amongst all of the other apartment I've been in Chicago. Usually, I refused to think much of it, like I said,... it hurts.
But that day, I was just all eyes and ears. I found out that the little french bistro across the street was out of business. Well, I wasn't really 'wow-ed' when eating there, but it was kind of sad to see something that was part of your life start changing. Like you part ways with your closest friends and 5 years later, they already have kids or move to Europe or has become the big shot director of a huge company, and you just wonder, what happened in between? Then you start to wonder how much you guys have missed?
So anyway, I managed to brace my heart and I went into the apartment, I just had to see who's the doorman that day. And there he was, Roland, the big guy with the big smile. He paused for a second when he saw me, then he rushed towards me and gave me a great bear hug.
Roland is a very nice man. It is just impossible dislike him.

I really miss being just one block away from bars and clubs. Not that I went a lot, but the spirit of it, the beat, the honking, the siren, all the noises, made you feel like you were a part of the fiesta.

I really want to go back to the city.
Though I know, that my 'downtown' era has passed. It's really over.
Like the finale of 'Friends' where Monica moved to the suburb. I bet she felt crappy.
Just like I felt.
Sigh...
Enough drama. I need to move on.

Should I join the rally?

I'm not the kind of person who pays attention to the news or politics, but I can't help but feeling intrigue by the Immigrant Rights issue that divide the Nation lately.
I listened to a girl on the radio about a week or two ago, ranting about immigrants.
She said "I'm not racist, but I really don't like it when I go to a certain area all the store signs are in Spanish. I mean, if they want to be in America, well then, speak English."
You see, all my life, I have been an immigrant. Or maybe I should say, the descendant of immigrants. I lived in Indonesia as a Chinese. I was a second class citizen. Then I moved to the US, and I'm still an immigrant. If I move to China, I can't assimilate with the native people anymore. Even there, I bet I will still be considered as an immigrant, I can't speak mandarin. See my problem? Seems like there is no 'home' for me in this world.
So, when I heard that girl on the radio, trying to justify her point of view by prefix-ing her remark the the words: "I'm not a racist" All I can think of was: Big fat liar. If she doesn't care about the race, why should she care about the signs? Why does she so bothered by them? I don't. Signs are just a miniscule problem here.

I saw Carlos Mencia today on TV. I love his stupid jokes. This time he invited an red-Indian guy to the show. And that Red Indian guy said that his colony was here first. Everybody else after them are immigrants.
In his version, everybody in America is a wetback.
I like that point of view. In fact, I've been thinking the same way. All this fuss about immigrants from the people whose anchestors originally were immigrants, it's just funny.
I know, that America does have a problem with illegal immigrants, but there should be a way out rather can prosecuting the diligent, hard-working people, who work for minimum wage, trying to have a better life for himself, his wife and kids.

So, I, the ultimate immigrant, hope that the STUPID bill will never be passed.
There I said it. I choose my side. And those who don't agree, feel free to talk back.