I guess after doing some impromptu soul searching I found out I don't really miss home.
I just need to save myself from being this corporate bitch and gain my self respect back and get me a new job. I don't do well with office politics. I hate it.
Yeah...
That's it. It's a weird conclusion, I know, but I have the long explanation that you might not really care much about.
And don't ask me what I mean by it, I am too spiteful right now to even think about it.
It weird though how I started to gain my sanity back. It all started in Galena about a month ago when I went to some cute stores that sells cute useless stuff. I always thought that 99.99% of them are junks. But over there, I read a quote from Mary Anne Radmacher, whoever that lady is: "Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Appreciate your friends. Continue to learn. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is."

Let's see:
Live with intention. Checked.
Walk to the edge. Not checked. What does it means anyway? What if someone is afraid of height?
Listen Hard. Checked, at least I thought I tried.
Practice wellness. Not checked.
Play with abandon. Undecided. Again... what is it that we are talking here? Hm,... you know what. Unchecked.
Laugh. Checked, big time. I love comedy. I even laugh at past tragedy. Right roomie? Tragedy + time = comedy.
Choose with no regret. Checked. I don't do regrets.
Appreciate your friends. Checked. Someone doesn't think so? We'll talk.
Continue to learn. Checked!
Do what you love. UNCHECKED!!!!! That's when I realized. That's when it all began. Bitch slap to my sanity.
Live as if this is all there is. Well,... sigh... sadly unchecked.

And looking at the summary above.
I'm not well. I can't even check 'practice wellness'.
I looked back and thought that I would've checked that one in the past.
Being an adult changes you. Sometimes to the better, but sometimes... not really.

But I'm glad I introspected myself and saw my life in perspective again and start doing something about it. Thank God I haven't lost it.

"Seize the moment! Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart." - Erma Bombeck

Bless youtube.com.
I can practically find everything there. I searched 'Jakarta banjir' and got a lot of clips of the flood back home.
Sad... really sad.
But, what does it mean when you look at those sad clips where people are half soaked and then all you think about is 'I want to go home'?
Sigh...
Indonesians are funny, they are walking in the depth of flood and then see a camera rolling, then they make the effort to smile, wave and even try to stick their faces to the lens.
Gotta love the spirit.
I'm sick of always having to hear bad news from home though, I wish there's a way to inject some sanity and conscience to the government that they need more open areas, more parks, less malls, better sewage system, better garbage disposal system. This flood happens every freaking year.
Hello?
You thought by now they would've been picking up the clues.
The slum areas are too much. Something needs to be done there. It is a massive effort, and maybe even impossible. But it just itches me so that not a single thing is being done.
It's like this: I saw the original DVD of An Inconvenient Truth in Walmart, many weeks ago. That dude, Al Gore includes a energy efficient light bulb in every DVD.
Now what are the odds that if I buy the DVD and use that one bulb, I will halt global warming? I think the chance is super slim to none.
But if I do my part, and a thousand other people do too, and maybe not a thousand, but a million or even 10 millions, then it'll finally make a different.
See my point?
Jakarta is a massive city. It's huuuge. But they should start somewhere. Start with an area with bad sewage system, and stop developing those freaking malls! I went home last year and every time I blinked in the car on my way to somewhere, I see yet another mall. It's unbelievable.

I'm an idealist. My boyfriend would've killed my idealistic idea (he's a compulsive realist).
But, do something. Start somewhere.
It's just like doing my laundry. It seems bottomless, but you have got to start somewhere. Right?

You would thought that dating someone for more than 4.5 years would be enough to know the person entirely in and out.

Wrong.

My boyfriend had a crappy day yesterday. It's just one of those days that really just ridiculously unpleasant. See his blog & him rant about it.
People handle anger in many different ways. My boyfriend's way of coping is apparently to totally shut out the rest of the world and withdrawn from everybody. That includes me, his better half.
I ain't no 'better half' yesterday.

I didn't understand this at first since I happen to be the kind of person that would look for a friend to share, dissect, discuss, or even bitch out instead of sulking in my little dim corner. So we are totally in the opposite sides of the pond. And I was pissed because he isolated me, but then I couldn't be, because, heck... his day was so bad, even as I felt pissed, I still felt bad for him.

But anyway, my smart self finally figure out that it was not about me. I guess the extreme analogy is like this: that day, I would have burnt the whole city down, while, he would have closed the business, hung a 'Gone Fishing' sign and been gone for a whole week, which in a smaller scale, he actually did.
Mentally.

So, I told him eventually that it's not really okay. I'd like some warning if he wants to 'go fishing'. I don't want to see the sign while he left already. And he big heartedly said sorry.

In retrospect though, I have dealt in the past with men with anger management issues, who would yell and belittle people when he's mad. Heck, I have had encountered childish men who would punch a microwave and throw stuff to the wall.

So this 'gone fishing' thing. I'll take it anytime, I'll work it out. I'll learn to fish.

Oh... the Bears lost in the Superbowl. My boyfriend was so fed up that he refused to see the last minutes and start karaoke-ing instead.
I must say, his karaoke-ing was more fun then watching Rex Grossman made yet another mistake.
I didn't sing though. I need much more booze then that to be able to hear myself sing with an echo effect.

Just chatted with an old friend this weekend.
In the spirit of concealing the detail & preventing giving out too much information, I will just make this case a little something about me, instead of her.

I have a lot of philosophy, one of them is the rule of thumb of not giving advise. If it doesn't concern me, then, I will not have a say in it.
My boyfriend at times would say to me that I should give advice, especially the constructive ones.
But. I don't give advice, unless asked.
Does that make me an ignorant person?
Where do we draw the line?
For example, a dear friend is marrying a prick, chauvinistic pig that she adoooores like mad. Do you tell her what you think?
Or another example, if someone tells me that I should just go home and be with my parents because they won't live forever and it's better that they spend their old days with me close to them.
And yet another example, if someone tell a mother to quit her job because now she has kids.

My opinion? I won't say my 0.02$.

Why?
Because it doesn't concern me.
Ignorant?
No.
I just don't think I can just invade someone's privacy trying to be this righteous person with a neon halo above my head.
It is amazing how your mind overlook the big errors you made, yet being able to spot others.
Human nature, I guess.
I remember I gave another friend an advise, like 5-6 years ago about her other friend: You don't have to tell her that what she did was wrong. She's fully aware of it. She knows already that she shouldn't date him. What you can do is be there for her, because when she falls it is going to be painful.

Hence, because of my point of view, I neither like giving unasked advise nor I like being told about what I should do. There are only very few people in my life that can freely give advise. One of them is, of course, my mom.
And, uhm,.. sure, Hunny, you too.
;)

So, if you need a piece of advise, ask.
If you need someone to talk to without being afraid of judgment, talk.
If you don't feel like talking, don't. I won't ask.
If it doesn't concern you, then just mind you own.

Sigh... if only that is being applied in real life.


Confusius - "Fellow-feeling . . . Do not do unto others what thou wouldst not they should do unto thee."

It is sooo cold these days. It's so cold up to the point where I think this is exactly what the total opposite of hell feels.
But yet again, every day I wake up to an even colder day.
And I every day I told my boyfriend: I stand corrected! Today is the total opposite of hell, not yesterday.
I wonder what are the people in Siberia are doing right now.

Anti-socialite tried to find solitude

So, I went to my cousin's baby shower in Philly last weekend, right. I flew there for a few days. And as you might know, I don't like flying and I don't like airport. And if you have to make things worse, I don't like my flight being delayed.
On my way back here, my flight was delayed, thanks to the snow in Minnesota. I was sleepy from all the fun I had there. Then add the three things I dislike from above, then you got a very crabby me.
So I had chosen the aisle seat, been waiting to get on board so I can sleep, or think or do whatever in silence.
I think, one of the few good things about traveling is that you can have the time for yourself, read a book or magazine, listen to the music, or just empty out your mind from everything.
Alas, the guy sitting across the aisle from the is a chatty guy, who chatted away with anyone he can initiate conversation with.
He first asked if he can borrow my mp3 player to test out his headphone.
Then, I handed him the thing.
Then he started asking me questions, like how much it cost, where's this and that buttons, how big is the memory, how many songs you can get for that memory.
Then he started using his big giant headphone with my mp3 player.
Then he said: Here,... try this.
Uhm,... what the... what I would want to share headphones with a stranger, I don't know. But in the spirit of being civilized, I tried it out, for like 2 seconds. And gave it back to him just saying: "Ah..."
Then he said: This is much better right?
I said: you got batteries in it? Of course it's much better.
Then he started explaining that he's a audio engineer, and if i keep on using my headphones that I stick into my earlobes,... my ear drums will be damaged forever. Because... "What are you doing for a living?"
"I'm an IT consultant" (I was thinking, why do I even have this conversation?).
"So, oh good if you are, then I can speak technical. So the ear drums is sending out different frequencies to the hairs behind it. Those hairs catch the different frequencies that it relays,... blah blah blah". If I keep on using my earphones, soon enough I'll be buying hearing aids because the damage would be permanent.
Then he asked me where I'm from, originally.
Oh? Indonesia? I've been there, it's a massive city. Very hot. And the pollution, oh my God...
Are you happy you moved out out of there?

Sigh...
Why is this kind of thing happens to me?
Do I have a sign on my forehead that said: Talk to me even though I looked bothered and I look like I can use some sleep?

Really.

Is having a conversation with strangers like that is considered normal?
Can someone enlighten me?
Because, for me, the 'have a nice day' or 'good morning' kind of interaction is enough. It's nice, simple, polite and that's all that's necessary.

So I finally just answered his question by saying: well, home is home. Then I shrugged and stick my so damaging earphones back to my ear drums.
I'll take the chance... at least until we landed in Chicago.

I need some chatty stranger repellent, but I just can't find it on Ebay.

I went to see the Departed and sneaked in to see Pan's Labyrinth since we still have like an hour to spare before the Departed started.
Pan's Labyrinth scared the HECK out of me.
The horror is not the kind that makes you jump from your seats but the kind with constant eeriness throughout the movie.
Just wish me luck that I don't get any spooky dreams tonight.
I don't like weird creatures with curled horns and freaky legs. If you call those legs. I also don't like faceless creatures with eyes on their palm of hands.
Sigh but anyway...
My boyfriend doesn't like the Departed. Me? I think it's not bad, but I saw Little Miss Sunshine the day before, and Blood Diamonds a few weeks ago. I think I would switch the Departed with Blood Diamonds for Oscar nomination. Besides, it conveys more important message. Hey, I like a little bling bling here and there, but it really opens up & broaden my point of view on diamonds, and of how much protected our knowledge here, in our little lala land immaculate bubble where the most important thing right now is ... the Superbowl.

So,... again wish me luck tonight. I know I'll have a dream tonight, let's hope it's not about the creepy creatures. Or Jack Nicholson.

Newest Hugh's Girlfriend

Have I ever mentioned that every time I sleep, I dream?
I can't remember a night when I don't dream.
I once dreamed being forced to sing happy birthday in front of the class.
Or I dreamed that I could fly, but only for about 5 foot high.
Or, I dreamed that Matt Lauer was following me around with a mic in his hand, trying to read me the news and forced me to listen to him.
I'm nuts. I know. Do any of you know why I always dreamed? I always wonder if I am sane in that department.
Anyway,... I had another dream a few days ago (another weird one, of course) and I told my boyfriend about it...

Me: I had a bad dream.
BF (Boyfriend): Was it a bad dream or a nightmare?
Me: Hm,... Nightmare then.
BF: Wanna tell me?
Me: But.. You'll laugh.
BF: Well, if it's funny then I might laugh.
Me: ("Smart ass answer...") Hm,... I had a nightmare that I was one of Hugh Hefner's girlfriends.
*Silent*
I looked at him, he smiled. It's more like a grin actually.
Me: Don't tell me I have this secret ambition to be one. It was disgusting.
Boyfriend kept on grinning.
Me: I had my own little bungalow connected to the house. And then that wrinkly old butt came for a visit and wanted go get fresh with me.
Smiling BF: Then what?
Me: I pushed him in disgust. Then I woke up.
BF: You always have those kind of weird dreams.
Me: What else?
BF: That dream about Arnold Schwarzenegger?
Me: That' a different kind. Arnold didn't do anything. Didn't get fresh on me. He just waved to the crowd like an idiot.

Anyway, back to that disgusting dream. I woke up. I forced my eyes to open up. And I realized it was just a dream. That I, in fact, was in this little teeny weeny apartment.
I looked around and I couldn't be happier.
My apartment can be tiny, it can be ugly, but it's mine. Together with my pride and my sanity.
Fiuffh...
It's just a dream...

Duck, will you come to my place?

I have always loved going to Naperville, an old suburb in Illinois where only the rich can afford, especially in the town's downtown area. The downtown area is about 4 - 5 blocks in perimeter, full of little charming, shops and dining places, a river where you can walk and (tough actually forbidden) feed the ducks. Lovely place.
Yesterday was a quite nice day for a day in January even the ducks were still swimming in the river. Stupid ducks, I know, they should've migrated to the south months ago.
And one of the must-to-do thing there is to take pictures.
So pictures were taken.
My boyfriend has this thing about taking our own pictures with his own fingers.
But the thing is, he kept on looking at the monitor and not the lens. Not only that, sometimes he focused so much on it that his expression was like he's taking a very difficult math surprise quiz worth 50% of his final grade.
Hehehe...
So many of the pictures have him looking constipated or smiling but looking at odd directions or both. Ah,... my boyfriend cracks me up. He truly is an extremely unique human being.
Now, whenever we took our own pictures, I keep on reminding him, look at the lens and smile, which apparently makes him chuckle, which is similar to smiling, and click! there it goes.
Alas, I can't show my pictures here, because it'll beat the purpose of me having a 'stage name' for my blog, etc to hide my identity.
Here is a picture taken by him.
I was asking the duck if he wanted to come to my place and be my dinner.
Just kidding, little ducky.

Rejection

I got another rejection.
First, I got this email of a possible job offer from a company. And this job, they offer you lots of perks and benefits. My favorite ones are: we believe in 40-45 hours per week, casual dress code, shorts and sandals is encouraged, drinks and snacks are always available.
Sigh...
But, as I should've predicted, they don't hire foreigners. And I am one.
And the very nice first email turned into a one liner from the recruiting manager saying that, nope, we're not interested in you then since you need sponsorship.

So, this morning when I got the reply, I thought, why do I even have to bother with this crap?
A foreigner.
Huh.
Back home, I can just drink coconut right from the shell and enjoy life.
I remember my mom asked me: Are you sure you want to do this? You will have to work hard out there. You will have to be strong, can't be a whiner, can't be a weakling, can't be a slacker, if you want to survive.
And I remember I said yes.
Well, it was actually a 'hell yes'.
And, cliche as it may sound, life is about choices, and I've chosen to break out from my family's lil' wonderland bubble and went here.

And here so I am.
And this is what I've become: a grumpy hustler.
Although..., retrospectively, if I have the chance to do it all over again.
My answer would still be a 'hell yes'.
Because, I believe that life is also about the journey, not only the destination.
So, this foreigner, she is going to make it.
And she's going to make it
... in style.

Stop The Darn Clips

Arrrgggghhh...
This is the fourth time in the past 1.5 hours that I saw the clip on the TV on Saddam Husein before he was executed, with the Noose around his neck.
I completely get it. He was a narcissistic brutal dictator who killed thousands of lives and had rapists sons and as much as I'm not in favor of capital punishment, I guess there are thousands of people cheering this execution to happen.
BUT...
Do the media really have to expose his final moments like it's some cheap clip about Britney /Lindsay partying?
I went to CNN and saw links to different video clips with title like: 'inside the execution chamber', 'Hussein in Hangman Noose', 'Hussein Body Wrapped in Shroud', and many others.
I thought, despite everything, Saddam's final moments should stay private. And mind you, not everybody is in favor of seeing the clips. Like me, my boyfriend's been playing channel hopping eveytime those clips start popping up on TV. Because he knows I don't want to see it.
I think this is just a cheap way of 'some people' to show to the public that 'justice has been served'. Oh please... we are sooo far away from justice if this is the closure.
And, by the way, where is that weapon of mass destruction? Has anyone check Saddam's armpits or bushy beard? Maybe he hid it there.

The Laundry Procrastinator

I know, I should be doing my laundry by last week. But, up until now, not only I didn't do any, I keep on adding pile over pile. I don't remember when the last time I did my laundry, but it seems like yesterday, which is actually impossible, unless you life in my world. But in real world, real calendar, I would say over a month ago.
Now, who says that girls are clean?
No, they are not.
They look clean, but not necessarily do.
I look clean, but I have lots and lots of dirty laundry...
For real. Literally.
And instead of start dragging my butt and do it, I choose to sit here and blog.
I'm the ultimate laundry procrastinator.
Now, you might start to think... how do I manage for my under garments?
The answer is: I have plenty of them, you wouldn't believe.
I however should clarify though, that I don't do side A - side B thing.
Ew.
But back to my laundry issue, I buy new clothes to avoid doing laundry, and the new clothes eventually end up in the laundry pile.
The more I buy, the more I pile.
This is a very vicious cycle.
And I don't know how to breakout from it.
(Unless, for the obvious, of course, that I do the laundry).
Sigh... and I think I have bought more than enough clothes. Since, I can see the laundry piling up, and yet, in my closet, the clean ones never seems to decrease.
Like a doraemon magic front pocket.
I'm amazed.

I got a very nice present from my boyfriend for my birthday.
A big giant picture of miniscule me standing in the middle of the woods after a snow storm.
He gave it to me with a nervous look on his face that I might not like it.
But I love it.
More also because I've been thinking about doing the same thing.
He read my mind.
Ah,.. great minds think alike.

I am ... 30

Okay,...
This is it. Point of no return.
I am officially being yanked out from the 'twenty-something' league.
And in the office, people kept on saying "'welcome to the league!" which, sigh..., honestly I responded with a very wide forced grin.
Anyway, I woke up just now, in the middle in the night, thinking: man, I really am not feeling happy about this.

I got an interesting text message from my sister though: Happy birthday, wish you all the best. You are sleeping, aren't you? Hey, is someone going home to Jakarta? I like that Bath and body lotion, my heels are cracking, give me two bottles, OK? Get me some with very nice fragrance. Thanks.
Heh.. as much as I love my sister, I do wonder why she can't talk about her cracked heels any other day.
But... good that she remembers though. It could've been worse. That's what I told myself.
Now, the text message from my bother is like this: Happy birthday, it's from me and your sis in law. Your nephew will sent his birthday wishes tomorrow, when it's the 22nd over there. He's terrified of wishing you birthday now, coz people told him it might shorten your age.
Made me smile, with a thought, shorten my age? It won't make a difference, I'm going downhill from this point anyway.

However, now that I am thirty, I thought, I have to try to make this positive and cheer myself up or I'll look back when I was 40 and regret the fact that I wasn't having fun.
So, I'm going to spend a day in the old 'hood, downtown that is, and have a nice lunch with my boyfriend.

As much as I hate turning 30, I am thankful though, that I am well, and in a good place in life. Good boyfriend, good career (somewhat, sigh...), good family, good friends, good health, financially independent, a little money in the piggy bank, still have hair, no visible grey ones (yet), still fit in the wedding dress (but we'll see after tomorrow), and having a nephew whose afraid of me having short age which is flattering.

Now I have to go back to bed, claim that beauty sleep, because let's face it, there are eye bags that might appear that no 30-year-old can cover even with the best make up.

I spent the day with my boyfriend.
Two more days ... two more days.

I realized I have some beers in the fridge. My boyfriend has given up drinking, so I might as well just start gulping them all and be merry & happy.
Hiccups... hiccups...
Or!!!
I can throw them away since beer = calories.
And calories = fat.
And getting older = slower metabolism.
In other words, the beers = fat butt.
Nice...

Three more days.
I told my boss I'm taking a day off tomorrow and on my birthday to sulk.
He let me took them.

I spent my day on meetings today. I wonder why my boss likes to talk so much. He really really really likes meetings. I think meetings are just political fantasies. Useless. Especially the long ones.
Although, I must say, today's meeting was very tensed and interesting. A coworker vented out on my boss, It got so tensed I thought he was about to choke him.
Prove that respect has to be earn, and can't be demanded, even if he is your damn boss.

I'm out.
I need my beauty sleep.

Okay...
This is the count down to my 3oth Birthday.
FOUR days to my 30th Birthday.
It is scary being old, but it is scarier if when you start to feel old, you also realize, on top of that, that you haven't done much with your life.
That sucks big time. And that's how I feel right now.
What have I been doing these past 10 years? I don't freaking know.
Also, I do notice the lines on my face that weren't there ten years ago.
And I also realize that I don't know what I want.
I always want something else after I get what I was chasing.
The only two things, I think, that I'm content is:
1. My education, because, you can kill me if you want to, but I'm done with school. If I ever want to go back to school. Just shoot me right in the head.
2. My boyfriend, 'nuf said. If someone can handle my tantrums (not to him,... but just accept the fact that I have tantrums about many things in life, namely: the maniac drivers, stupid boss, crazy co-workers, the weather, etc), then we have a winner!!! Because, let's face it, I'm not the most sane person around.

Today I'm still 'twenty something', but in four days, holy cow, oh my gosh, heeeeep...
Grasp...
I'm thirty.
I think this call for a mourning and some really delicious martinis.
Someone please hold my hand!

Grandmas Inc.

It's been a few times already that I came along with my boyfriend to his church on Saturdays.
Honestly, I am not going for the church. I went because I love my boyfriend and I want to support him. Plus, I have the responsibility to poke him when he falls asleep (just kidding, hunny).
So, one by one, people in the church start picking up my name. And I got to know some really nice people. I don't know what's up with that church, but about 90% of them are old people. And by old, I mean 80-90 something year old.

As I come to know them, I find them such sweethearts. Well, I have a soft spot for sweet old grandmas. I just find them so loveable.
Every week, after church they have potluck and we sometimes join them.
Amongst them, there is this one grandma who can't stop talking. Leaving only little chance for others to talk. Oddly enough, one of her stories is that she was a very shy young girl.
Another grandma is very Elizabeth Taylor-ish. She is a freaking ninety-four year old. She has her health, her matching suit and purse, a lovely well-colored bright red hair complete with the also-matching hat. I thought, now that's what I'm gonna look like when I'm 94. And throw in a Porsche while I'm at it.
But one grandma that I really fell in love is the grandma who came to me and gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek thanking me for coming with a dish for the potluck. A very motherly kiss. Not just a peck, but a big hug and a really hearty kiss. I sat there feeling all warm and touched.

I heart grandmas.

And the best part of it, the grandmas have husbands too. Well, not all of them, but some still do. And I look at them sitting together, eating and they still haven't run out of conversations or jokes. They are still enjoying each other's company. Hard to believe, I know, in this wretched, cruel world, where even someone who had a wife like Jenifer Aniston still cheated on her for another woman then called it 'being inspired'.
I thought, man, that's how I want my old days to be. Wrinkly. But not with just with age lines, but with smiles & jokes. Sitting, breaking bread and sharing a cup of orange juice with my guy, whom I poke once in a while in the church to keep awake. And preferably, I want to keep my teeth, but if I can't, then I hope by then I have a great dental plan.

Ally Is Here!

My dear sweet friend from back home reserved me (upon request) the complete series of Ally McBeal. Yes, all seasons. The DVDs were bought by her, then picked up by my parents, then given to my cousin. Then with her, travelled back half way across world to US. Then being forgotten for a couple of weeks, then finally they were sent to me.
So, I just want to say:
...
Happy happy joy joy, happy happy joy!
(Together!)
Happy happy joy joy, happy happy joy!