Oh Holy cow,
I think I'm going to adopt a dog.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
The Reasons Why
It is a known fact to people who had stumbled upon my blog before, that I have an air-head boss. Oh, who, by the way, will go on vacation almost for the whole month of December.
Joy, joy.
Why do I hate him so? Well,... when he talks and tries to finish a sentence, most of the time he would get distracted and talk about something else, hence forgot to finish the first sentence.
Meaning, then, forgot why he wanted to talk to you in the first place.
So, a five minute discussion would most likely end up in 20 minutes without valid points, then along the way, other thoughts usually spring and he would remember tasks that he had forgotten to do and assigned you to 'help him with this or that because you're the best person to do it'. Because you're awesome and great.
So, I hate him, basically because of this:
I'm a bottom-line kind of girl. Finish your sentences and be done with the discussion in 5 minutes. I don't want to waste the other 15 minutes of my time listening to him blabbers. The kind of people that talks without a point really gets to me.
Secondly, I'm not his freaking maid. I'm an IT consultant for Nicole Kidman's sake.
Let's talk about what I can do. Technology wise, Oracle wise, PL/SQL wise, Unix wise, how to prevent the issue that we had yesterday, or whatever. But not about how he's swamped with his work, and doesn't have the time to create an organization chart for his administrative /
management meeting and since I'm good at PowerPoint assigns me secretary jobs.
Thirdly, I hate it when he does point number two, there will be lines like: Because you're really good at excel spreadsheet, or, you did wonderfully on that power point for the organization chart. I can't stand manipulative people.
So basically,... that's why. In a nutshell.
Based on the above, the other day, when it was 3 minutes before 5 pm, when we were suppose to go home, he called my next cubicle coworker (who had gone for the day).
I checked the caller id while putting on my coat and my other coworker asked:
"Who's that?"
(Grinning) "The boss"
(Coworker grinned too) "Oh,... aren't you gonna answer that?"
"Of course not. Do you wanna?"
"Oh,.. nooo"
"Let's just go" (Giggle giggle).
She was also leaving, but then she stopped.
"Oh,... wait a minute, what if he can't get a hold of anyone and then call the on-call blackberry? I have the on-call blackberry this week."
"Oh, crap,... quick, forward all your call."
"But to who???"
(Silent...)
"To himself! So when he calls he'll get another call on his call from himself."
(Laugh giggle giggle).
"Is that possible?"
"No silly, let's go, he won't call you. He might already have forgotten why he calls in the first place by now anyway..."
So with that, we went home.
And that is why I need a new job, even though to drag yourself to really look for one is really, really tough.
Joy, joy.
Why do I hate him so? Well,... when he talks and tries to finish a sentence, most of the time he would get distracted and talk about something else, hence forgot to finish the first sentence.
Meaning, then, forgot why he wanted to talk to you in the first place.
So, a five minute discussion would most likely end up in 20 minutes without valid points, then along the way, other thoughts usually spring and he would remember tasks that he had forgotten to do and assigned you to 'help him with this or that because you're the best person to do it'. Because you're awesome and great.
So, I hate him, basically because of this:
I'm a bottom-line kind of girl. Finish your sentences and be done with the discussion in 5 minutes. I don't want to waste the other 15 minutes of my time listening to him blabbers. The kind of people that talks without a point really gets to me.
Secondly, I'm not his freaking maid. I'm an IT consultant for Nicole Kidman's sake.
Let's talk about what I can do. Technology wise, Oracle wise, PL/SQL wise, Unix wise, how to prevent the issue that we had yesterday, or whatever. But not about how he's swamped with his work, and doesn't have the time to create an organization chart for his administrative /
management meeting and since I'm good at PowerPoint assigns me secretary jobs.
Thirdly, I hate it when he does point number two, there will be lines like: Because you're really good at excel spreadsheet, or, you did wonderfully on that power point for the organization chart. I can't stand manipulative people.
So basically,... that's why. In a nutshell.
Based on the above, the other day, when it was 3 minutes before 5 pm, when we were suppose to go home, he called my next cubicle coworker (who had gone for the day).
I checked the caller id while putting on my coat and my other coworker asked:
"Who's that?"
(Grinning) "The boss"
(Coworker grinned too) "Oh,... aren't you gonna answer that?"
"Of course not. Do you wanna?"
"Oh,.. nooo"
"Let's just go" (Giggle giggle).
She was also leaving, but then she stopped.
"Oh,... wait a minute, what if he can't get a hold of anyone and then call the on-call blackberry? I have the on-call blackberry this week."
"Oh, crap,... quick, forward all your call."
"But to who???"
(Silent...)
"To himself! So when he calls he'll get another call on his call from himself."
(Laugh giggle giggle).
"Is that possible?"
"No silly, let's go, he won't call you. He might already have forgotten why he calls in the first place by now anyway..."
So with that, we went home.
And that is why I need a new job, even though to drag yourself to really look for one is really, really tough.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Thanksgiving Ponder
To eat turkey or not, that's the question.
Having never been really took fancy in turkey anyway, I think I'm going to skip it this year.
My boyfriend with his vegetarian spirits has also sent me a link: 10 reasons not to eat chicken, with links in the web page itself to other articles such as: 10 reasons not to eat pigs, 10 reasons not to eat cows, 10 reasons not to eat tuna, 10 reasons not to eat turkeys and so on.
You got the message.
To tell you the truth, I've been reducing almost like 90% of my meat consumption anyway, after a coworker just violated my ignorance bubble and shoved me a PETA magazine full of horror stories and pictures of how badly they treat the animals. Since then, I'm somewhat vegetarian,... most of the time.
Except for dimsum and when I go to Olive Garden & have some Zuppa Toscana (everyone has their weaknesses, you know).
So, I'm not eating turkey this year. Although, come to think of it, I'm not pardoning a turkey. My boyfriend's family still bought a turkey anyway, and will roast it. There will only be more leftovers this year. A turkey still died (get murdered) for the occasion.
And even if his family did not bought a turkey, a turkey carcass would have still been there. Frozen, in the grocery's freezer. Dead.
But, mentally I will feel better, that I don't partake in that, thanks to the article which has successfully emotionally blackmailed me. See what it said about Turkeys:
"Turkeys are “smart animals with personality and character, and keen awareness of their surroundings, ... are social, playful birds who enjoy the company of others... relish having their feathers stroked and like to chirp, cluck, and gobble along to their favorite tunes."
Shit.
They make a turkey sounds like a human.
Now I can't see turkey the same way again.
Ever.
And I'll have to eat Tofurkey forever.
Everybody knowsa turkey some tofu and some mistletoe
Help to make the season bright
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight - The Christmas Song
Having never been really took fancy in turkey anyway, I think I'm going to skip it this year.
My boyfriend with his vegetarian spirits has also sent me a link: 10 reasons not to eat chicken, with links in the web page itself to other articles such as: 10 reasons not to eat pigs, 10 reasons not to eat cows, 10 reasons not to eat tuna, 10 reasons not to eat turkeys and so on.
You got the message.
To tell you the truth, I've been reducing almost like 90% of my meat consumption anyway, after a coworker just violated my ignorance bubble and shoved me a PETA magazine full of horror stories and pictures of how badly they treat the animals. Since then, I'm somewhat vegetarian,... most of the time.
Except for dimsum and when I go to Olive Garden & have some Zuppa Toscana (everyone has their weaknesses, you know).
So, I'm not eating turkey this year. Although, come to think of it, I'm not pardoning a turkey. My boyfriend's family still bought a turkey anyway, and will roast it. There will only be more leftovers this year. A turkey still died (get murdered) for the occasion.
And even if his family did not bought a turkey, a turkey carcass would have still been there. Frozen, in the grocery's freezer. Dead.
But, mentally I will feel better, that I don't partake in that, thanks to the article which has successfully emotionally blackmailed me. See what it said about Turkeys:
"Turkeys are “smart animals with personality and character, and keen awareness of their surroundings, ... are social, playful birds who enjoy the company of others... relish having their feathers stroked and like to chirp, cluck, and gobble along to their favorite tunes."
Shit.
They make a turkey sounds like a human.
Now I can't see turkey the same way again.
Ever.
And I'll have to eat Tofurkey forever.
Everybody knows
Help to make the season bright
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight - The Christmas Song
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Nice weather, friend or foe?
The tree at the back of the house has finally gone completely bald. And so does the maple tree by the driveway.
Fall is here.
And it is true what my boyfriend said, which was that the sunlight is different when it's fall or spring. the angle is never really straight down, like when it's summer.
I noticed that today, when I escaped from work during lunch and had a quiet lunch in a Chinese restaurant. The host set me a table by the window (Table for one, I said, holding my breath, because the last time I went there by myself, it seems like it was they were in total confusion how one would want to dine by herself. But today, he just nodded quietly and took me to a nice quiet corner by the window).
It was about noon, but the shadows of the yellow-leafed trees were long, and it was surreal because it's noon, but still nice. I felt like pulling out my laptop and start writing a book, while sipping my Chinese tea. But of course, I don't have my laptop with me and I only have like an hour lunch break and my air-headed boss would soon enough wonder where I am because he needs to assign me more things, his things that he doesn't know how to do. Plus I don't drink tea.
So, I just sat there, waiting for my order to arrive and I saw a squirrel crossing the street and I remember thinking, oh, stupid squirrel, this is why I see many of you, flatten out in the middle of the road. Hurry. Hurry. Blast, you stressed me out in the middle of my zen-like lunch. I held my breath. But then he got to the other side safely (exhale).
Come to think of my nice getaway, I don't know if I should thank God for a nice day, or be concerned that for a mid November we still have a high of 60 Fahrenheit. My boyfriend's sister told us that her shedding tree has a few tiny flowers. Even the trees are confused.
The earth is dying,... or to come for better words, it is having a fever.
I just hope there's a way out of this. I read an article in a newspaper about how to go green. And it is to choose the right leaders. Because, although you use efficient energy, drive a hybrid and recycle, it would make more impact if you have a leader that cares about the environment, since that person can enforce, in a much bigger scale, bills and decisions that would have changed a country.
You know what this means, right?
That until Santa joins the presidential race, you better start building your boat, just in case the Arctic ice melts some more that it has already been.
Fall is here.
And it is true what my boyfriend said, which was that the sunlight is different when it's fall or spring. the angle is never really straight down, like when it's summer.
I noticed that today, when I escaped from work during lunch and had a quiet lunch in a Chinese restaurant. The host set me a table by the window (Table for one, I said, holding my breath, because the last time I went there by myself, it seems like it was they were in total confusion how one would want to dine by herself. But today, he just nodded quietly and took me to a nice quiet corner by the window).
It was about noon, but the shadows of the yellow-leafed trees were long, and it was surreal because it's noon, but still nice. I felt like pulling out my laptop and start writing a book, while sipping my Chinese tea. But of course, I don't have my laptop with me and I only have like an hour lunch break and my air-headed boss would soon enough wonder where I am because he needs to assign me more things, his things that he doesn't know how to do. Plus I don't drink tea.
So, I just sat there, waiting for my order to arrive and I saw a squirrel crossing the street and I remember thinking, oh, stupid squirrel, this is why I see many of you, flatten out in the middle of the road. Hurry. Hurry. Blast, you stressed me out in the middle of my zen-like lunch. I held my breath. But then he got to the other side safely (exhale).
Come to think of my nice getaway, I don't know if I should thank God for a nice day, or be concerned that for a mid November we still have a high of 60 Fahrenheit. My boyfriend's sister told us that her shedding tree has a few tiny flowers. Even the trees are confused.
The earth is dying,... or to come for better words, it is having a fever.
I just hope there's a way out of this. I read an article in a newspaper about how to go green. And it is to choose the right leaders. Because, although you use efficient energy, drive a hybrid and recycle, it would make more impact if you have a leader that cares about the environment, since that person can enforce, in a much bigger scale, bills and decisions that would have changed a country.
You know what this means, right?
That until Santa joins the presidential race, you better start building your boat, just in case the Arctic ice melts some more that it has already been.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
It has become so apparent that I have no respect left for the knuckle head boss that it is so hard for me to even focus on what he's saying.
My eyes wonder and I'm in autopilot with my noddings and "uh huh".
And what's even more ridiculous, is that either he's so self-centered that he only cares about his own voice anyway or that he's so air headed that he doesn't realize that people don't like him or pay attention to him at all.
Ah,... the things I'm gonna say on the day that I resign....
My eyes wonder and I'm in autopilot with my noddings and "uh huh".
And what's even more ridiculous, is that either he's so self-centered that he only cares about his own voice anyway or that he's so air headed that he doesn't realize that people don't like him or pay attention to him at all.
Ah,... the things I'm gonna say on the day that I resign....
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Art of Going Back Home
Surreal.
My trip to home has always been like that.
Surreal.
Like in the movies when someone stands still in a crowded place and everyone else is moving, walking so fast like they are all in fast-forward mode.
It's like that. Like I'm watching everything in lightning speed and all of a sudden, it's time for me to go back here.
I promised to visit a friend's grave but failed to do so. I didn't even got the chance to meet Scal.
Sorry, Bro, you'll be on my top list next time. Promise. Scout's honor.
I learned a few things when I got back this time.
One is to tell my mom not to cook. Not to be unappreciative, but there's only such room in my tummy. And I have to tell her BEFORE I even landed... because by then, it'll be too late.
Two, never try to pay attention to the traffic. And Never make sense out of it. Just close your eyes and hope we'll be there in one piece.
Three, the ladies don't wait in line. Not when waiting for a fitting room, not in the ladies room, not when paying in a department store... nowhere. It's a constant battle.
Four, roaches are everywhere. And I mean everywhere. They visit all kind of places, including your own room through the slit between your door and the floor. Bring weapon to kill everywhere you go. I had my dad's big sandal around the house. It worked. I got the job done 90% of the time. Not bad.
Five, The street food. They're really really good. But never watch how the seller prepare it. With bare hands.
Six, Spend time with the nephews, even though that means playing board games (Jumanji & Monopoly) for hours. Spend time with your brother and sister, even though it means visiting her house in a far far away land, and eating porridge in strange places with your brother, just to see how happy they are that you're around.
Seven, Hug them a lot. You don't get to do that after you're back here, sitting in front of your laptop, writing about all this, even though deep down your heart is wrenching and you question your every decision to be so far apart from them. My brother said, everyone has their own fate, and it's my fate to have a better life elsewhere.
I'm just thinking what is a better life anyway if I only get to see the people that matter most to me once every two years, in a three weeks period maximum?
The question remains... yet to be answered.
My trip to home has always been like that.
Surreal.
Like in the movies when someone stands still in a crowded place and everyone else is moving, walking so fast like they are all in fast-forward mode.
It's like that. Like I'm watching everything in lightning speed and all of a sudden, it's time for me to go back here.
I promised to visit a friend's grave but failed to do so. I didn't even got the chance to meet Scal.
Sorry, Bro, you'll be on my top list next time. Promise. Scout's honor.
I learned a few things when I got back this time.
One is to tell my mom not to cook. Not to be unappreciative, but there's only such room in my tummy. And I have to tell her BEFORE I even landed... because by then, it'll be too late.
Two, never try to pay attention to the traffic. And Never make sense out of it. Just close your eyes and hope we'll be there in one piece.
Three, the ladies don't wait in line. Not when waiting for a fitting room, not in the ladies room, not when paying in a department store... nowhere. It's a constant battle.
Four, roaches are everywhere. And I mean everywhere. They visit all kind of places, including your own room through the slit between your door and the floor. Bring weapon to kill everywhere you go. I had my dad's big sandal around the house. It worked. I got the job done 90% of the time. Not bad.
Five, The street food. They're really really good. But never watch how the seller prepare it. With bare hands.
Six, Spend time with the nephews, even though that means playing board games (Jumanji & Monopoly) for hours. Spend time with your brother and sister, even though it means visiting her house in a far far away land, and eating porridge in strange places with your brother, just to see how happy they are that you're around.
Seven, Hug them a lot. You don't get to do that after you're back here, sitting in front of your laptop, writing about all this, even though deep down your heart is wrenching and you question your every decision to be so far apart from them. My brother said, everyone has their own fate, and it's my fate to have a better life elsewhere.
I'm just thinking what is a better life anyway if I only get to see the people that matter most to me once every two years, in a three weeks period maximum?
The question remains... yet to be answered.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
I'm going home
I have been away from this blog for so long, my laptop didn't even store the web address anymore.
Well,... it is kind of weird for me to be up and about this early on Saturday, but, I have to because,...
I'm going back home to Jakarta.
I'm saying bye-bye to the suckers at work for three weeks and going to sunbathe under the sun on a beach somewhere there.
Not Ancol though, mind you...
I honestly did not feel much excitement, since, I hate flying and the 21 hours in the air is going to be too much for me.
But I'm out of Indonesian spices stock, and my family there has been bursting with joy with the thoughts of being able to spend time with me for three weeks, so I gave in.
I was told the whole family is going to pick me up. Yup,... 12 people will pick me up at the airport. I really really don't see the need for them to do so, but saying "don't bother" might sound kind of unappreciative.
So,... sigh... here I go, bracing myself for the first round of torture, 12 hours and 55 minutes from here to Tokyo.
Oy,...
I just remember, I need to find those sleeping pills.
I know,.. I know... I've got issues.
Later, y'all.
Well,... it is kind of weird for me to be up and about this early on Saturday, but, I have to because,...
I'm going back home to Jakarta.
I'm saying bye-bye to the suckers at work for three weeks and going to sunbathe under the sun on a beach somewhere there.
Not Ancol though, mind you...
I honestly did not feel much excitement, since, I hate flying and the 21 hours in the air is going to be too much for me.
But I'm out of Indonesian spices stock, and my family there has been bursting with joy with the thoughts of being able to spend time with me for three weeks, so I gave in.
I was told the whole family is going to pick me up. Yup,... 12 people will pick me up at the airport. I really really don't see the need for them to do so, but saying "don't bother" might sound kind of unappreciative.
So,... sigh... here I go, bracing myself for the first round of torture, 12 hours and 55 minutes from here to Tokyo.
Oy,...
I just remember, I need to find those sleeping pills.
I know,.. I know... I've got issues.
Later, y'all.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Old Habit Dies Hard
Guess what I found in the ladies room in the Indonesian Consulate in Chicago.
I don't even know what the English word is for this red thing. But, as a person thinking that we are living & soaking in a western culture, this brought a big smile. Like when the first time I found tempe in whole foods market.
P.S. Ah, according to a website I found from Google, this is a...
(drum roll)....
...
...
A dipper.
There we go. A dipper in a dry bathroom full of toilet tissues.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
A topic came up about me being home alone without my boyfriend around and the what-ifs on burglars and friends breaking an entry to my house.
Later that day, he came back to the house with a big baseball bat for me to hide under the sofa. I find it funny, yet, serious. If you know what I mean.
So, I practiced beating up an imaginary person with it while he's laughing at me though I don't care.
It was pretty liberating actually.
And now we know, if, knock on wood, some stupid burglar decides to break in, I'll be ready to beat him up to pulp.
Later that day, he came back to the house with a big baseball bat for me to hide under the sofa. I find it funny, yet, serious. If you know what I mean.
So, I practiced beating up an imaginary person with it while he's laughing at me though I don't care.
It was pretty liberating actually.
And now we know, if, knock on wood, some stupid burglar decides to break in, I'll be ready to beat him up to pulp.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Although never really explicitly expressed, I really really appreciate my boyfriend, who knows that I hate doing dishes and has been taking the tasks practically of the time.
And that I hate chopping onions and always offer to help.
And always takes care of the garbage.
Ah, the simple things in life that strangely can make me sure that despite all the money, I have a better life than Britney Spears.
And that I hate chopping onions and always offer to help.
And always takes care of the garbage.
Ah, the simple things in life that strangely can make me sure that despite all the money, I have a better life than Britney Spears.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Three Men & Jewelry Headache
Three is the total number of men I've dated.
I remember when I was much much younger, my mom told me to not really be attached to the guy dated. It happened on a palmistry session with an old Chinese man with lots of wrinkle while he was pointing at my palm with a toothpick (mind you, it was a clean one, I made sure of that). He predicted a lot, which I can't recall anymore. However, one of the things I do recall he said is that I am the kind of person who would really devote her feelings to guy she's dating.
And my mom nodded with this expression, as if I shouldn't do that. Like, I shouldn't put all my eggs in one basket. And that I should date more.
But, I find it hard to do. I don't really get easily impressed with men, so I passed on many of them. Also, I don't want to purposely date multiple guys in the same time frame. And I also don't want to date one guy over another just like they are diapers. Wear and toss kind of attitude.
It is funny because she herself didn't date much when she was young. And she's the most faithful person on earth to my dad. Shouldn't she know that I inherited this from herself?
Anyway.
In the spirit of devotion, I just realized something the other day when I was in the office restroom, washing my hands and staring at myself.
I was wearing a pair of earrings that I got from an ex.
I remembered putting it on one morning when my mind was still dormant and I was just auto-piloting through my morning routine.
Now,...
Believe me when I say that I don't have sentimental memories by keeping the exes' gifts / jewelry. And I did ask myself, why on earth still I keep them?
I think I keep them just because they have real monetary value.
I did not even really think of it, until I asked myself, would I want my boyfriend to be wearing a gift from an ex. And immediately realized, I just had to get rid of them.
But, what should I do with them?
Toss them in the garbage?
I remember when I was much much younger, my mom told me to not really be attached to the guy dated. It happened on a palmistry session with an old Chinese man with lots of wrinkle while he was pointing at my palm with a toothpick (mind you, it was a clean one, I made sure of that). He predicted a lot, which I can't recall anymore. However, one of the things I do recall he said is that I am the kind of person who would really devote her feelings to guy she's dating.
And my mom nodded with this expression, as if I shouldn't do that. Like, I shouldn't put all my eggs in one basket. And that I should date more.
But, I find it hard to do. I don't really get easily impressed with men, so I passed on many of them. Also, I don't want to purposely date multiple guys in the same time frame. And I also don't want to date one guy over another just like they are diapers. Wear and toss kind of attitude.
It is funny because she herself didn't date much when she was young. And she's the most faithful person on earth to my dad. Shouldn't she know that I inherited this from herself?
Anyway.
In the spirit of devotion, I just realized something the other day when I was in the office restroom, washing my hands and staring at myself.
I was wearing a pair of earrings that I got from an ex.
I remembered putting it on one morning when my mind was still dormant and I was just auto-piloting through my morning routine.
Now,...
Believe me when I say that I don't have sentimental memories by keeping the exes' gifts / jewelry. And I did ask myself, why on earth still I keep them?
I think I keep them just because they have real monetary value.
I did not even really think of it, until I asked myself, would I want my boyfriend to be wearing a gift from an ex. And immediately realized, I just had to get rid of them.
But, what should I do with them?
Toss them in the garbage?
Saturday, August 04, 2007
I'm back
It's really been a while since the last time I blogged.
Oh, how the world...
... stays the same.
I wish I'm bungee jumping somewhere exotic or sailing on some foreign place and enjoying the sun.
But, instead, I'm furniture hunting.
It does give me a bit of satisfaction, when I find a good deal on a dining table from Crate and Barrel, or find a bunch of lucky bamboos with the perfect height for that square vase I bought last week (yes, that would pretty much excites me), but, if in the future someone asks me, "what did you do last summer?" Then, I might have to make something up.
BTW, I haven't been blogging simply because I didn't have a workstation to really sit and waste my time thinking about the meaning of life (i.e. post an entry on my blog). And also, then Harry Potter & the Deathly Hollows got in the way.
But I finished it last night.
And also, I finally bought a desk to put in my bedroom, by the window, overlooking some tree.
So I should be able to blog again. Writing about nothing.
Like now...
Anyway, last week, my boyfriend and I went to this decorating class (courtesy of Pottery Barn). I tricked him, well, at first it was innocent, but later on, I started to wonder if he's gonna be the only male there.
Thank goodness, there were also two other male victims amongst us. And by us, I meant me and, like, 30 other females.
So, he's the third male.
And he survived the class.
And even almost at the end of the class, I thought I saw some movement next to me where he was and...
By gosh,... he raised his hand and asked a question.
I thought I was seeing things. I held my breath.
But, really, I should be applauding him, since, apparently, the question was SUPER important, which was:
"I have a lot of remote controls. Where should I keep my remotes so the table doesn't look cluttered?"
Ah,... the ultimate mind boggling question in every household. The relationship of men and his remotes.
And I said that because all the thirty ladies giggles in full understanding and the two other men grinned and the teacher said "That is a very good question!"
I wonder now, if he would be interested to join the next class next month.
Oh, how the world...
... stays the same.
I wish I'm bungee jumping somewhere exotic or sailing on some foreign place and enjoying the sun.
But, instead, I'm furniture hunting.
It does give me a bit of satisfaction, when I find a good deal on a dining table from Crate and Barrel, or find a bunch of lucky bamboos with the perfect height for that square vase I bought last week (yes, that would pretty much excites me), but, if in the future someone asks me, "what did you do last summer?" Then, I might have to make something up.
BTW, I haven't been blogging simply because I didn't have a workstation to really sit and waste my time thinking about the meaning of life (i.e. post an entry on my blog). And also, then Harry Potter & the Deathly Hollows got in the way.
But I finished it last night.
And also, I finally bought a desk to put in my bedroom, by the window, overlooking some tree.
So I should be able to blog again. Writing about nothing.
Like now...
Anyway, last week, my boyfriend and I went to this decorating class (courtesy of Pottery Barn). I tricked him, well, at first it was innocent, but later on, I started to wonder if he's gonna be the only male there.
Thank goodness, there were also two other male victims amongst us. And by us, I meant me and, like, 30 other females.
So, he's the third male.
And he survived the class.
And even almost at the end of the class, I thought I saw some movement next to me where he was and...
By gosh,... he raised his hand and asked a question.
I thought I was seeing things. I held my breath.
But, really, I should be applauding him, since, apparently, the question was SUPER important, which was:
"I have a lot of remote controls. Where should I keep my remotes so the table doesn't look cluttered?"
Ah,... the ultimate mind boggling question in every household. The relationship of men and his remotes.
And I said that because all the thirty ladies giggles in full understanding and the two other men grinned and the teacher said "That is a very good question!"
I wonder now, if he would be interested to join the next class next month.
Monday, July 09, 2007
I have a tree on my backyard which apparently hosts lots of fireflies. Thus, at night when I sit on my balcony, I'd see lights twinkling, blinking, coming out from the tree.
It is a wonderful sight.
People say that the feeling of having your first house is indescribable. I don't feel that high.
Not that I don't love having a 'somewhat' permanent place to live, but, indescribable feeling is, for me, when I hug my mom after two years of half the world separation. Or when my boyfriend put his arms around my shoulder and sniff my hair, or a simple smile & 'hey' greeting from him after a rotten day at work.
Having a house... is an accomplishment. I don't feel that high, because I don't get it for free.
I waited for that high feeling when I moved in. It hasn't kicked in yet. What comes instead is the constant lengthy calculation in my head, and the disturbance of those boxes, screaming to be unpacked.
I don't feel the 'high'.
But I do feel at home. And I'm happy with this place. I feel like I made the right decision. That I'm going to the right direction.
I feel good about this. And the fireflies confirm it. At nights, it's just us. The fireflies and me, they keep me company.
The other day, I killed a spider. It's bigger than the ones I usually see. With longer legs (hence bigger steps, hence faster speed).
Oh well,... the life in the suburb.
I'm not keen to animals with lots of legs, to say the least, but I guess I didn't have the time to be a sissy. I needed to kill it before it ran and hide inside.
I remember thinking cynically, soon enough after this, I'll get over my cockroach phobia and conquer the world.
I have a deck and a balcony overlooking to some trees and a golf course, balanced with a loan with Citi mortgage.
Man,...
I have a house.
Oh, I better double check that I have scheduled the next mortgage payment online, due on August 1st.
It is a wonderful sight.
People say that the feeling of having your first house is indescribable. I don't feel that high.
Not that I don't love having a 'somewhat' permanent place to live, but, indescribable feeling is, for me, when I hug my mom after two years of half the world separation. Or when my boyfriend put his arms around my shoulder and sniff my hair, or a simple smile & 'hey' greeting from him after a rotten day at work.
Having a house... is an accomplishment. I don't feel that high, because I don't get it for free.
I waited for that high feeling when I moved in. It hasn't kicked in yet. What comes instead is the constant lengthy calculation in my head, and the disturbance of those boxes, screaming to be unpacked.
I don't feel the 'high'.
But I do feel at home. And I'm happy with this place. I feel like I made the right decision. That I'm going to the right direction.
I feel good about this. And the fireflies confirm it. At nights, it's just us. The fireflies and me, they keep me company.
The other day, I killed a spider. It's bigger than the ones I usually see. With longer legs (hence bigger steps, hence faster speed).
Oh well,... the life in the suburb.
I'm not keen to animals with lots of legs, to say the least, but I guess I didn't have the time to be a sissy. I needed to kill it before it ran and hide inside.
I remember thinking cynically, soon enough after this, I'll get over my cockroach phobia and conquer the world.
I have a deck and a balcony overlooking to some trees and a golf course, balanced with a loan with Citi mortgage.
Man,...
I have a house.
Oh, I better double check that I have scheduled the next mortgage payment online, due on August 1st.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Watching a good friend going through a divorce is tough. I can't imagine being her. And being a non expert of the subject, I resorted to the most obvious thing a girlfriend can do to help lessen the pain.
I took her to the mall for a shopping spree.
And by gosh... it worked. Well,... of course not entirely, but it worked. And I guess, deeper than that, as we roamed in the mall, we talked, and the combination of those two yielded a very good result.
Sometimes the dry joke of life is dryer than Sahara. As I just bought a house with my boyfriend, she's selling her house and splitting it with her soon-to-be-ex-husband.
But she marches through, and I'll be holding her hand till the end.
I took her to the mall for a shopping spree.
And by gosh... it worked. Well,... of course not entirely, but it worked. And I guess, deeper than that, as we roamed in the mall, we talked, and the combination of those two yielded a very good result.
Sometimes the dry joke of life is dryer than Sahara. As I just bought a house with my boyfriend, she's selling her house and splitting it with her soon-to-be-ex-husband.
But she marches through, and I'll be holding her hand till the end.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
OH HOLY COW,... I'm so in the wrong city!
I don't belong in Bolingbrook, IL. According to this, I belong in London.
I don't belong in Bolingbrook, IL. According to this, I belong in London.
| You Belong in London |
 A little old fashioned, and a little modern. A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock. A unique soul like you needs a city that offers everything. No wonder you and London will get along so well. |
Monday, May 28, 2007
Happily Broke
We're gonna do the home closing this Wednesday.
After we sign it. We'll be a homeowner.
Sigh...
To think that I came here and lived in a 350 sqr foot apartment where I sleep, study, watch TV, cook, eat in one room, it is overwhelming to think that I am gonna own a house. It's been a long way, you see.
And I know I bitch a lot, because life is not always a joy ride.
But I am thankful. And I am overjoyed.
Broke.
But happy.
And I'm bringing my cactus there, which by the way, now I have the total of three.
Meet Hairy and William. Guess which one is which.
After we sign it. We'll be a homeowner.
Sigh...
To think that I came here and lived in a 350 sqr foot apartment where I sleep, study, watch TV, cook, eat in one room, it is overwhelming to think that I am gonna own a house. It's been a long way, you see.
And I know I bitch a lot, because life is not always a joy ride.
But I am thankful. And I am overjoyed.
Broke.
But happy.
And I'm bringing my cactus there, which by the way, now I have the total of three.
Meet Hairy and William. Guess which one is which.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Why Blond?
What is it about being blond?
No, no... I'm not being discontent when I asked that.
I'm just wondering.
There was an article that I read about 7 years ago in National Geographic. My dad subscribed National Geographic and made me realize that beauty magazines are really not 'all that'. Every month, the magazine came and I got the kind of thrill that no beauty magazine could ever provide me.
There was an article, 'Enigma of Beauty', which discussed the plethora of angles about beauty. It was a very interesting, strong article, to say the least. It made me realize why some girls can be the 'mean girls' in high-school. And some can just be some mean bully. Period. And why I had a friend in high school who had a nose job when she was 16.
I think my own beauty rituals too. My eyebrows have to be perfectly arched. My pedicure routine, my blush, my mascara, to name a view. I do limit myself though. believe it or not. I don't want the make up or fashion or trend to wear me. I have to be the one who wear them.
I was in Bali Ngurah Rai airport waiting for our chartered car to arrive, when my 4 year-old nephew staring far across the long hall and he said, amazed and in awe "Daddy, there's a girl over there with yellow hair. Isn't she pretty?" He said innocently.
I and my brother turned our heads and there she was, a little white girl about my nephew's age, with long hair flowing touched by the wind standing there with her family, holding hands with her mom. I could almost hear a Bossa song playing and people moves in slow motion. I guess that little girl gave the illusion of an goddess or something of the sort.
Made me think of a particular part of the article although I'm sure that the little girl's hair color is real:
" Hair-care product companies estimate that in the U.S. 40 percent of women who color their hair choose blond, a choice women also made in ancient Greece."
My nephew likes blond.
Like most men in modern world.
I was watching American Idol finale just now and Bette Middler was singing 'Wind Beneath my Wings'. Her hair has inspired me to finally write about this blond phenomenon. Her hair was so blond, she looked like she hasn't aged (well, I have to admit, maybe other enhancements took place too). Her hair shades reminded me of Marilyn Monroe's hair color. And talking about Marilyn, I can't can't can't imagine her as a brunette. Like that article said, maybe only the hairdresser knew the real hair color for sure.
I just asked my boyfriend when he called me if I should color my hair blond.
He said, uhm,... up to you.
But do you like me being blond?
Uhm,... it's up to you, I don't mind either way.
But, in general, do you prefer blonds?
Uhm, Actually, I like dark haired women. Short dark hair.
I smiled and thought: Well well well. What are the odds? I have a man in the minority pie. Men who prefer dark hair.
This works.
Because I like my hair black. Just the way it is. I'm thinking, if many people are coloring their hair blond, I will actually stand out in the crowd.
No, no... I'm not being discontent when I asked that.
I'm just wondering.
There was an article that I read about 7 years ago in National Geographic. My dad subscribed National Geographic and made me realize that beauty magazines are really not 'all that'. Every month, the magazine came and I got the kind of thrill that no beauty magazine could ever provide me.
There was an article, 'Enigma of Beauty', which discussed the plethora of angles about beauty. It was a very interesting, strong article, to say the least. It made me realize why some girls can be the 'mean girls' in high-school. And some can just be some mean bully. Period. And why I had a friend in high school who had a nose job when she was 16.
I think my own beauty rituals too. My eyebrows have to be perfectly arched. My pedicure routine, my blush, my mascara, to name a view. I do limit myself though. believe it or not. I don't want the make up or fashion or trend to wear me. I have to be the one who wear them.
I was in Bali Ngurah Rai airport waiting for our chartered car to arrive, when my 4 year-old nephew staring far across the long hall and he said, amazed and in awe "Daddy, there's a girl over there with yellow hair. Isn't she pretty?" He said innocently.
I and my brother turned our heads and there she was, a little white girl about my nephew's age, with long hair flowing touched by the wind standing there with her family, holding hands with her mom. I could almost hear a Bossa song playing and people moves in slow motion. I guess that little girl gave the illusion of an goddess or something of the sort.
Made me think of a particular part of the article although I'm sure that the little girl's hair color is real:
" Hair-care product companies estimate that in the U.S. 40 percent of women who color their hair choose blond, a choice women also made in ancient Greece."
My nephew likes blond.
Like most men in modern world.
I was watching American Idol finale just now and Bette Middler was singing 'Wind Beneath my Wings'. Her hair has inspired me to finally write about this blond phenomenon. Her hair was so blond, she looked like she hasn't aged (well, I have to admit, maybe other enhancements took place too). Her hair shades reminded me of Marilyn Monroe's hair color. And talking about Marilyn, I can't can't can't imagine her as a brunette. Like that article said, maybe only the hairdresser knew the real hair color for sure.
I just asked my boyfriend when he called me if I should color my hair blond.
He said, uhm,... up to you.
But do you like me being blond?
Uhm,... it's up to you, I don't mind either way.
But, in general, do you prefer blonds?
Uhm, Actually, I like dark haired women. Short dark hair.
I smiled and thought: Well well well. What are the odds? I have a man in the minority pie. Men who prefer dark hair.
This works.
Because I like my hair black. Just the way it is. I'm thinking, if many people are coloring their hair blond, I will actually stand out in the crowd.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
We got an email today that some creep was in the women's restroom in the next building. Then he got arrested and charged with disorderly conduct. I wonder what he was doing there. Because, if he got into the wrong restroom, he should have just simply gone back out.
Of course, the world is full with creeps. But this raises an alarm for the girls, because the building management now suggests that the ladies go to the restroom in groups. I mean... not colossally, but with a friend.
Imagine, now you can't even pee and make it your own privacy.
Darn those creeps!
Of course, the world is full with creeps. But this raises an alarm for the girls, because the building management now suggests that the ladies go to the restroom in groups. I mean... not colossally, but with a friend.
Imagine, now you can't even pee and make it your own privacy.
Darn those creeps!
Saturday, May 12, 2007
It has been about more than a week ago that my best friend at work told me that she's separating with her husband. Do you know that you have to be separated for at least 6 month before you can actually file for a divorce?
She told me that she has gotten a full load of advise left and right. One girlfriend told her: You and your silly perception of how marriage works! Of course that you should not spend much time with your husband. You are supposed to get out there and have your own fun and not be with him all the time. You'll drive him crazy.
My girlfriend told me: I thought that's the reason why someone would get married. To be with each other. To bond. To be like a set of Siamese twin and finish each other's sentences.
This makes me think of my boyfriend and how he always welcome some time of solitude and I start to think that he might actually see too much of me. Which is funny because in the old days when we're not dating yet, he always tried to come by, and at that time I was 40 miles away in downtown. Now, it is only 9 miles away and I don't see any intensity of him coming to my place.
I don't know much about marriage because I'm not in one. Yet. But, since I'm heading that way, and all most of the people I know in marriages are in agony, I'm pretty discouraged. Well, shouldn't I be? And this theory about not being around your husband or you'll drive him away, I think is a load of crap.
I think I just don't see how that is considered a marriage. You might as well be single.
I think though, despite all that, marriage is about taking risk anyway.
I know someone who's been cheating on his wife even to the point that he was in bed with someone else when the wife gave labor.
I know someone who's into his secretary rather than his wife.
I know a girl who celebrated her bachelorette night with an ex-boyfriend.
I know a wife who gave birth to a son, who's not her husband's.
I know someone who ran away with some other woman, leaving the wife 3 months pregnant.
I know all sort of horror stories, real people. People that I know. Real lives.
And yet, I'm still hopeful that mine will work.
Stupid and naive?
I guess.
Because, if I don't give it a try, I'll wonder forever of the possibility that I pass on a happy life.
And that... that'll drive me crazy.
She told me that she has gotten a full load of advise left and right. One girlfriend told her: You and your silly perception of how marriage works! Of course that you should not spend much time with your husband. You are supposed to get out there and have your own fun and not be with him all the time. You'll drive him crazy.
My girlfriend told me: I thought that's the reason why someone would get married. To be with each other. To bond. To be like a set of Siamese twin and finish each other's sentences.
This makes me think of my boyfriend and how he always welcome some time of solitude and I start to think that he might actually see too much of me. Which is funny because in the old days when we're not dating yet, he always tried to come by, and at that time I was 40 miles away in downtown. Now, it is only 9 miles away and I don't see any intensity of him coming to my place.
I don't know much about marriage because I'm not in one. Yet. But, since I'm heading that way, and all most of the people I know in marriages are in agony, I'm pretty discouraged. Well, shouldn't I be? And this theory about not being around your husband or you'll drive him away, I think is a load of crap.
I think I just don't see how that is considered a marriage. You might as well be single.
I think though, despite all that, marriage is about taking risk anyway.
I know someone who's been cheating on his wife even to the point that he was in bed with someone else when the wife gave labor.
I know someone who's into his secretary rather than his wife.
I know a girl who celebrated her bachelorette night with an ex-boyfriend.
I know a wife who gave birth to a son, who's not her husband's.
I know someone who ran away with some other woman, leaving the wife 3 months pregnant.
I know all sort of horror stories, real people. People that I know. Real lives.
And yet, I'm still hopeful that mine will work.
Stupid and naive?
I guess.
Because, if I don't give it a try, I'll wonder forever of the possibility that I pass on a happy life.
And that... that'll drive me crazy.
Monday, May 07, 2007
We're buying a house
I think I'm coming down with something. And I think I'm coming down with something because I'm all stressed out.
I & my boyfriend are buying a FREAKING HOUSE. I think all the tension has finally affected my immune system. I have been on the phone the whole day with my boyfriend, my mortgage broker, my lawyer, my Realtor, my mom, my dad, my house inspector,.... all in the office, balancing with the usual manic Monday.
Never in my life I can really feel my immune system starts failing on me by the hour. I need some sleep.
But on the lighter note,...
I am buying a freaking house.
I have a house.
With a fireplace.
And big kitchen.
With a balcony facing a golf course.
Oh how I love balconies.
This stress is totally worth it.
I & my boyfriend are buying a FREAKING HOUSE. I think all the tension has finally affected my immune system. I have been on the phone the whole day with my boyfriend, my mortgage broker, my lawyer, my Realtor, my mom, my dad, my house inspector,.... all in the office, balancing with the usual manic Monday.
Never in my life I can really feel my immune system starts failing on me by the hour. I need some sleep.
But on the lighter note,...
I am buying a freaking house.
I have a house.
With a fireplace.
And big kitchen.
With a balcony facing a golf course.
Oh how I love balconies.
This stress is totally worth it.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Party of One. Yes, One.
I went for Dim Sum by myself today. Shrimp dumpling, chicken feet, chives dumpling,... hm,...
So I took a shower, I drove & entered the restaurant.
The host asked: "How many?" Asking me, how many people will it be in my party.
I said: "One!"
Then she said: "Sorry?"
I said: "Just one."
Then she said: "I'm sorry, I don't understand that."
Uhm,..
So, I pointed my index finger up in front of her and tried again "One person only."
"Oh,..." (a very brief pause) " Please follow me" She said nicely.
Then I was escorted to a table and the waitress hurried up to my table and asked the hostess "How many?"
Then the hostess said "Just one."
"Just one?"
Man,... don't people go to eat just by themselves lately?
I do wonder if they really find it that odd? Because I couldn't care less. It is as simple as this: I had some craving for dim sum and my dim sum buddies are all gone, and my boyfriend doesn't eat pork or seafood. So,... party of one it is.
Just fabolous me.
But if it is easier for them to see, I will bring my ducky stuffed animal next time to sit next to me and claim party of two instead.
So I took a shower, I drove & entered the restaurant.
The host asked: "How many?" Asking me, how many people will it be in my party.
I said: "One!"
Then she said: "Sorry?"
I said: "Just one."
Then she said: "I'm sorry, I don't understand that."
Uhm,..
So, I pointed my index finger up in front of her and tried again "One person only."
"Oh,..." (a very brief pause) " Please follow me" She said nicely.
Then I was escorted to a table and the waitress hurried up to my table and asked the hostess "How many?"
Then the hostess said "Just one."
"Just one?"
Man,... don't people go to eat just by themselves lately?
I do wonder if they really find it that odd? Because I couldn't care less. It is as simple as this: I had some craving for dim sum and my dim sum buddies are all gone, and my boyfriend doesn't eat pork or seafood. So,... party of one it is.
Just fabolous me.
But if it is easier for them to see, I will bring my ducky stuffed animal next time to sit next to me and claim party of two instead.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
All of you who are the youngest in the family, raise you hand!
I betcha that you have felt the syndrome of the-baby-in-the-family treatment from your parents.
Isn't it crazy that even when you are fully capable, fully independent, fully grown they still try to make the decisions for you?
My dear old dad still needs reminder that he should kick back and relax and let me do my own thing. Last week, he just did something that realllly realllly tested my nerves. Like, approaching my boyfriend's extended families and formed a plan (or I should say, threw some ideas up in the air) on behalf of me and my boyfriend.
Yup, without consulting me.
And yup, without consulting my boyfriend.
I don't think he ever approached my sister-in-law or brother-in-law's directly like that.
Dear dad has this tendency to take care of me, since, forever. In the past, before I went here, to the US, I was driven around by him or whoever that has the time, and at a certain period of times had a designated driver to drive me around. Meanwhile my sister was jumping in and out of busses like a pro. I never wrote a check, never knew how to write it, never pay a bill, didn't know how to pay it anyway. So, when I got here, it was kind of embarrassing to consult someone on how to actually write a check.
So, I was mad, obviously, when he took matters to his own hand. MY matter. Although I know, dear dad... he's at the age when most men would start having this post-power syndrome, or whatever it is called, and this might be part of that doggone thing.
So, I talked to him letting him know, in a very nice way, that he needs to get through me for any brilliant ideas that he has, and let me talk to my boyfriend, and let my boyfriend talked it out with his family. But, that didn't work.
Well, dad,... you asked for it. So,... I talked to my mom and let her tell him. Mom is great. She gets the work done.
How mad can you be to your dad, though? Though you most definitely have your downs and disappointments and disagreement. I hated his guts at times. I hated the fact that he hated most of my boyfriends and gave them such a hard time. Hated that he never really have enough faith in me and my driving the car. Hated his paranoia when I went out with friends and hadn't been back past 10 freaking pm. Hated the fact that he was very short temper, and that I inherit it from him. I hate it that he never really taught me what it is that he is doing in the office.
But, these past years, every time I saw him, his aging process was very visible. Every time I saw him, he looked much more older than the last time I saw him.
And it broke my heart.
The bad-quality pictures that he sent still showed his gray hair, gray mustache, wrinkles and wattle.
I remember he said when I was like, 13 or 14, "Cil, find a guy that loves you. The one who loves you so much that he would give up everything for you." I remember thinking, ah,... piece of cake. And apparently, it wasn't a piece of cake.
I also remember he said when using knife for self-defense, stab hard....
And, another good one, don't let a guy buy you off with jewelry. Especially if you don't even like the guy.
Be a lady. Don't swear.
Or some of his fantabulous ideas like: "Do you want to learn how to golf? It might be useful one day when you are an adult and need to lobby some big shot VP". Yeah,... but I was only 16 or 17.
Dearest dad. I think I'm not mad at him anymore.
I actually kinda miss him.
I betcha that you have felt the syndrome of the-baby-in-the-family treatment from your parents.
Isn't it crazy that even when you are fully capable, fully independent, fully grown they still try to make the decisions for you?
My dear old dad still needs reminder that he should kick back and relax and let me do my own thing. Last week, he just did something that realllly realllly tested my nerves. Like, approaching my boyfriend's extended families and formed a plan (or I should say, threw some ideas up in the air) on behalf of me and my boyfriend.
Yup, without consulting me.
And yup, without consulting my boyfriend.
I don't think he ever approached my sister-in-law or brother-in-law's directly like that.
Dear dad has this tendency to take care of me, since, forever. In the past, before I went here, to the US, I was driven around by him or whoever that has the time, and at a certain period of times had a designated driver to drive me around. Meanwhile my sister was jumping in and out of busses like a pro. I never wrote a check, never knew how to write it, never pay a bill, didn't know how to pay it anyway. So, when I got here, it was kind of embarrassing to consult someone on how to actually write a check.
So, I was mad, obviously, when he took matters to his own hand. MY matter. Although I know, dear dad... he's at the age when most men would start having this post-power syndrome, or whatever it is called, and this might be part of that doggone thing.
So, I talked to him letting him know, in a very nice way, that he needs to get through me for any brilliant ideas that he has, and let me talk to my boyfriend, and let my boyfriend talked it out with his family. But, that didn't work.
Well, dad,... you asked for it. So,... I talked to my mom and let her tell him. Mom is great. She gets the work done.
How mad can you be to your dad, though? Though you most definitely have your downs and disappointments and disagreement. I hated his guts at times. I hated the fact that he hated most of my boyfriends and gave them such a hard time. Hated that he never really have enough faith in me and my driving the car. Hated his paranoia when I went out with friends and hadn't been back past 10 freaking pm. Hated the fact that he was very short temper, and that I inherit it from him. I hate it that he never really taught me what it is that he is doing in the office.
But, these past years, every time I saw him, his aging process was very visible. Every time I saw him, he looked much more older than the last time I saw him.
And it broke my heart.
The bad-quality pictures that he sent still showed his gray hair, gray mustache, wrinkles and wattle.
I remember he said when I was like, 13 or 14, "Cil, find a guy that loves you. The one who loves you so much that he would give up everything for you." I remember thinking, ah,... piece of cake. And apparently, it wasn't a piece of cake.
I also remember he said when using knife for self-defense, stab hard....
And, another good one, don't let a guy buy you off with jewelry. Especially if you don't even like the guy.
Be a lady. Don't swear.
Or some of his fantabulous ideas like: "Do you want to learn how to golf? It might be useful one day when you are an adult and need to lobby some big shot VP". Yeah,... but I was only 16 or 17.
Dearest dad. I think I'm not mad at him anymore.
I actually kinda miss him.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
It went bankrupt
In the event of finding a better job, I searched for all the companies I can remember that had interviewed me in 2004 and turned me down because of my lack of experience. Hey, who knows that now they found me appealing enough to join the group.
I remember my first, ever, interview in the US to a company in the Chicago loop area. I was sooo nervous and I was desperately hopeful (finding a job when you are jobless and only given a limited amount of time to find it is no fun ride, you know). And they turned me down.
Hm,... which is fine coz at least I get a feel of what an interview is like and learn what I have missed & haven't nailed.
So, I search the website for that company and found out... just now... that they have gone bankrupt.
Thinking of that movie, sliding doors, and where I would be today if they had accepted me to the company and then they went bankrupt and ditch my ass to the curb.
Maybe I should feel lucky right now.
I remember my first, ever, interview in the US to a company in the Chicago loop area. I was sooo nervous and I was desperately hopeful (finding a job when you are jobless and only given a limited amount of time to find it is no fun ride, you know). And they turned me down.
Hm,... which is fine coz at least I get a feel of what an interview is like and learn what I have missed & haven't nailed.
So, I search the website for that company and found out... just now... that they have gone bankrupt.
Thinking of that movie, sliding doors, and where I would be today if they had accepted me to the company and then they went bankrupt and ditch my ass to the curb.
Maybe I should feel lucky right now.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Warty no more
I need to scratch Warty out since it is brought to my attention that Warty also an ,.. uhm.. not so interesting Indonesian names (sorry for people named Warti, nothing personal).
So... let's the contest begin. Let's name her, so I can re-do the birth certificate.
So... let's the contest begin. Let's name her, so I can re-do the birth certificate.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Meet Warty - my new cactus plant
I bought a cactus plant in Ikea today. She's a red head with 3 warts.
I guess it's a good little distraction for me to take care of plant.
Uhm,.. maybe talk to it.
Like a friend, or shrink.
Just like Tom Hanks to that volleyball, Wilson.
(Wink)
I saw a spoof of the 'Cast Away' and the dude was talking to a basketball named 'Spalding' instead. I found it really funny.
Anyway... I guess, I have procrastinated enough. I desperately need to do my taxes.
Off I go.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Send In The Clowns
I got friends emailed or texted me left and right after my last blog entry,... which was really nice. I think there the compelling need from my side to say thanks. So, thank you.
Although, I didn't mean to make it sounded like a high octave drama when I madly typed it. So, so sorry if you guys think I was about to gulp down a glass of clorox or something stupid like that.
I guess, life is about ups and downs. Not that I don't know that, but I just have to prepare myself for more downs after some downs. I was mad. And, btw, I still am. And I don't know if it is more of the mad side or, actually, the frustrated side. Anyhow, I just read that meaning of the title 'Send in the clowns' the infamous sad suicidal song (Barb Streisand) was to refer to the fact that in the circus, traditionally, clowns are summoned to distract the audience attention, when disaster strikes.
That would be, the best song for me at the moment, although, the actual song seems to have something to do with a one sided love, which is not my case.
This past week, I've gone through the break down phase, then, mad phase, then now, the withdrawal phase. I guess?
I don't know anymore, but I know that I am mad. To fate.
I know. Dangerous huh? To be mad at fate, for all you know before I finish up this entry, I might have already been struck down by lightning or something, regardless the fact that I am indoor.
Karma comes instantly, right, Nad?
In the effort to bring me to see this from a better angle, my roommate presented me with the logic that if I am mad with fate, then since my fate is in my own hands, then it means that I'm mad at myself.
Then the bitter me answer that this is not something that I can hustle with my own hands, because it's not a fair game and I'm not in control of what I can do about it If it is something I can hustle, then I would and I'd deal with it.
I was pretty much determined to be bitter. But aside from the bitterness, when I am mad, I tend challenge back whatever it is that made me mad. So, my madness has gotten me saying to my fate that I refuse to be broken down like this. So,...
Bring it.
Bring it on.
Whatever that I need to go through, bring it.
And I'll survive it.
Let it pour since it is already raining anyway.
I'll be soaking wet, but I'll survive this. One way or another.
So, right now, my set of clowns are working hard out there with the bicycles, umbrella, balls, throwing pins up in the air. I think they're gonna have to be out there for quite a while. I'm even preparing my second shift of clowns.
So send in the clowns. Shift after shift after shift.
Disaster will end sooner or later. And full of bruises I might be by then, but I'll survive this.
Although, I didn't mean to make it sounded like a high octave drama when I madly typed it. So, so sorry if you guys think I was about to gulp down a glass of clorox or something stupid like that.
I guess, life is about ups and downs. Not that I don't know that, but I just have to prepare myself for more downs after some downs. I was mad. And, btw, I still am. And I don't know if it is more of the mad side or, actually, the frustrated side. Anyhow, I just read that meaning of the title 'Send in the clowns' the infamous sad suicidal song (Barb Streisand) was to refer to the fact that in the circus, traditionally, clowns are summoned to distract the audience attention, when disaster strikes.
That would be, the best song for me at the moment, although, the actual song seems to have something to do with a one sided love, which is not my case.
This past week, I've gone through the break down phase, then, mad phase, then now, the withdrawal phase. I guess?
I don't know anymore, but I know that I am mad. To fate.
I know. Dangerous huh? To be mad at fate, for all you know before I finish up this entry, I might have already been struck down by lightning or something, regardless the fact that I am indoor.
Karma comes instantly, right, Nad?
In the effort to bring me to see this from a better angle, my roommate presented me with the logic that if I am mad with fate, then since my fate is in my own hands, then it means that I'm mad at myself.
Then the bitter me answer that this is not something that I can hustle with my own hands, because it's not a fair game and I'm not in control of what I can do about it If it is something I can hustle, then I would and I'd deal with it.
I was pretty much determined to be bitter. But aside from the bitterness, when I am mad, I tend challenge back whatever it is that made me mad. So, my madness has gotten me saying to my fate that I refuse to be broken down like this. So,...
Bring it.
Bring it on.
Whatever that I need to go through, bring it.
And I'll survive it.
Let it pour since it is already raining anyway.
I'll be soaking wet, but I'll survive this. One way or another.
So, right now, my set of clowns are working hard out there with the bicycles, umbrella, balls, throwing pins up in the air. I think they're gonna have to be out there for quite a while. I'm even preparing my second shift of clowns.
So send in the clowns. Shift after shift after shift.
Disaster will end sooner or later. And full of bruises I might be by then, but I'll survive this.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
It has been a long day.
I got some bad news and I was unprepared.
I wonder how would one react when getting bad news on the phone while one's co-workers left and right were chatting happily, laughing with you. Do you still laugh out of courtesy?
I did.
For 2 seconds.Then I thought, I had to go somewhere else, because two seconds were the maximum that I can fake it. And my two seconds was up.
What do you do when the dearest person in your whole world is down about the news? I thought to myself when I heard the news, I have to be the stronger one, I have to hold it together. Because if I break down, he would too. I have to give him encouragement.
Then what I did was to comfort him, while I felt like I could't breathe. I went out without my jacket and just sit outside the office building to get some air.
Then I went for a ride after work. I blasted the music so hard, I can bet that even if a police siren was right behind me, I wouldn't hear it anyway.
And I noticed that even when it's not raining, the world was pretty much dark when your heart is. Some cruel joke my life has played. It made me so mad that I want to throw. Speed. Slash. Slit. Push. Explode. Crush.
All sort of vandalism.
Instead, I went to the grocery store. I crossed the street from the parking lot without looking. Luckily the car stopped. I walked to the frozen section and felt all choked up. I had to stop to pull myself together, turned my face away from anyone who might see and stood there in front of the chicken section, staring at the lifeless pale meat.
Then I went to the cheese section. Grabbed a jar of blue cheese and went to the sales person there.
I meant to say "excuse me". But I stood in front of him, and he looked at me and I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.
No sh**.
I inhaled and forced out some voice.
"Excuse me, Could you check if you have any more of this inside? This is the last one".
In times like this, I, who are a believer of karma, can't stop thinking what I did wrong that made this happened?
All sort of events blinked in my head like 20 different occasions in a second.
My head is spinning. The time I was mad at my mom. Or dad. Or my sister. Or brother. Or people on the road. When I said things I shouldn't say or did what I shouldn't do.
But I wish that after some downtime, I will have some up time. Unlike this.
I'm down here already, and the light at the end of the tunnel seems dimmer than ever.
My chest hurts.
I got some bad news and I was unprepared.
I wonder how would one react when getting bad news on the phone while one's co-workers left and right were chatting happily, laughing with you. Do you still laugh out of courtesy?
I did.
For 2 seconds.Then I thought, I had to go somewhere else, because two seconds were the maximum that I can fake it. And my two seconds was up.
What do you do when the dearest person in your whole world is down about the news? I thought to myself when I heard the news, I have to be the stronger one, I have to hold it together. Because if I break down, he would too. I have to give him encouragement.
Then what I did was to comfort him, while I felt like I could't breathe. I went out without my jacket and just sit outside the office building to get some air.
Then I went for a ride after work. I blasted the music so hard, I can bet that even if a police siren was right behind me, I wouldn't hear it anyway.
And I noticed that even when it's not raining, the world was pretty much dark when your heart is. Some cruel joke my life has played. It made me so mad that I want to throw. Speed. Slash. Slit. Push. Explode. Crush.
All sort of vandalism.
Instead, I went to the grocery store. I crossed the street from the parking lot without looking. Luckily the car stopped. I walked to the frozen section and felt all choked up. I had to stop to pull myself together, turned my face away from anyone who might see and stood there in front of the chicken section, staring at the lifeless pale meat.
Then I went to the cheese section. Grabbed a jar of blue cheese and went to the sales person there.
I meant to say "excuse me". But I stood in front of him, and he looked at me and I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.
No sh**.
I inhaled and forced out some voice.
"Excuse me, Could you check if you have any more of this inside? This is the last one".
In times like this, I, who are a believer of karma, can't stop thinking what I did wrong that made this happened?
All sort of events blinked in my head like 20 different occasions in a second.
My head is spinning. The time I was mad at my mom. Or dad. Or my sister. Or brother. Or people on the road. When I said things I shouldn't say or did what I shouldn't do.
But I wish that after some downtime, I will have some up time. Unlike this.
I'm down here already, and the light at the end of the tunnel seems dimmer than ever.
My chest hurts.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Porn
I heard from my mom that my nephew brought back news right after school to his dad that a friend of his was suspended from school for 2 weeks.
Why?
Because during computer class, in the comp lab, that little nine-year-old kid was surfing a porn site. And the teacher caught that.
My nephew is a very geeky smart kid. Very nice kid. Very naive. But, boy, I tell ya, with peer influence like that, I'm fearing for his innocence.
Now, of course, we all experienced this kind of discovery when we are much younger. Some maybe experienced a lot sooner than some others, some maybe exposed more than some others. A friend told me that her dad gathered the family and dropped a bunch of adult magazines and said "Here, if you have to see it behind me anyway, I'd rather you see it in front of me." My friend was only like 14-15 year old.
Wow.
More of it, my boyfriend mentioned like ages ago, that porn industry is one of the biggest internet industry, I don't think this industry is gonna die down. Ever. I just don't understand how it works, is it free for public? Don't you have to register & give your credit card number first to view them?
I don't know.
But the picture of a nine-year-old surfing it is pretty horrible.
El mundo loco.
And when my mom told me over the phone about that, I screamed "Aaaarrgghh..., seriously??"
Then the next thing I thought was, Oh Gosh, I can't even handle this news. It's not even my kid, and it's not him that got the suspension. I'm so gonna be a control freak mom, the type of mom that I do not want to be.
I love my mom, but one of the many things I learned from her is not to be as controlling as her. Sigh, And THEN, the next thing after the previous next thing that I did was giving my mom instruction to tell to my brother to buy parental control softwares to install in their PCs/laptops. I was horrified. From the news and for hearing myself behaved like that.
But anyways, 'nuff about this. People with kids... be aware, and good luck to y'all. God Speed.
Why?
Because during computer class, in the comp lab, that little nine-year-old kid was surfing a porn site. And the teacher caught that.
My nephew is a very geeky smart kid. Very nice kid. Very naive. But, boy, I tell ya, with peer influence like that, I'm fearing for his innocence.
Now, of course, we all experienced this kind of discovery when we are much younger. Some maybe experienced a lot sooner than some others, some maybe exposed more than some others. A friend told me that her dad gathered the family and dropped a bunch of adult magazines and said "Here, if you have to see it behind me anyway, I'd rather you see it in front of me." My friend was only like 14-15 year old.
Wow.
More of it, my boyfriend mentioned like ages ago, that porn industry is one of the biggest internet industry, I don't think this industry is gonna die down. Ever. I just don't understand how it works, is it free for public? Don't you have to register & give your credit card number first to view them?
I don't know.
But the picture of a nine-year-old surfing it is pretty horrible.
El mundo loco.
And when my mom told me over the phone about that, I screamed "Aaaarrgghh..., seriously??"
Then the next thing I thought was, Oh Gosh, I can't even handle this news. It's not even my kid, and it's not him that got the suspension. I'm so gonna be a control freak mom, the type of mom that I do not want to be.
I love my mom, but one of the many things I learned from her is not to be as controlling as her. Sigh, And THEN, the next thing after the previous next thing that I did was giving my mom instruction to tell to my brother to buy parental control softwares to install in their PCs/laptops. I was horrified. From the news and for hearing myself behaved like that.
But anyways, 'nuff about this. People with kids... be aware, and good luck to y'all. God Speed.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
I have this Bush quote generator from google & looovee it!
If only we have quote generators for those Indonesian officials too.
Anyway...
Something that I thought was hilarious:
"I've been talking to Vicente Fox, the new president of Mexico -- I know him -- to have gas and oil sent to the United States ... so we'll not depend on foreign oil."
- George W. Bush October 3, 2000
If only we have quote generators for those Indonesian officials too.
Anyway...
Something that I thought was hilarious:
"I've been talking to Vicente Fox, the new president of Mexico -- I know him -- to have gas and oil sent to the United States ... so we'll not depend on foreign oil."
- George W. Bush October 3, 2000
Monday, March 12, 2007
I was driving home from a dinner date with my boyfriend. The weather was nice, today we reached 63 freaking Fahrenheit degree, for crying out loud!!! Yeah!
Life is good, I cracked my windows open a bit, put on my swing out sister CD, belted out 'Am I the same girl?', then while I was trying to hit the high note, I was screaming, singing out loud, I saw a dead 'thing' on the road. right in front of my car.
That 'dead something' most probably was either a gigantic mouse, or squirrel, without the head. And it was too late for me to avoid it, so I had to run over it. I could feel the bump, first on my front left tire then the back left tire.
I was opening my mouth anyway (from singing), but my singing became a real scream.
Aaarrrggghhh...
Yuck yuck yuck YUCK!
AAAARRRGGHHHH.....
Aaarrghhh!!!
I have this OCD thing, where I can't touch even a picture of scary creatures like the ones in national geographic (perfect example would be: pictures of tape worms, or dust mites). And apparently, today I found out that I also can't ran over anything yucky with my car without feeling like I actually step them over with my bare foot.
I know. I'm weird.
Moral of the story: when singing in the car, keep your eyes locked on the road. Don't squint your eyes when hitting the high notes.
Life is good, I cracked my windows open a bit, put on my swing out sister CD, belted out 'Am I the same girl?', then while I was trying to hit the high note, I was screaming, singing out loud, I saw a dead 'thing' on the road. right in front of my car.
That 'dead something' most probably was either a gigantic mouse, or squirrel, without the head. And it was too late for me to avoid it, so I had to run over it. I could feel the bump, first on my front left tire then the back left tire.
I was opening my mouth anyway (from singing), but my singing became a real scream.
Aaarrrggghhh...
Yuck yuck yuck YUCK!
AAAARRRGGHHHH.....
Aaarrghhh!!!
I have this OCD thing, where I can't touch even a picture of scary creatures like the ones in national geographic (perfect example would be: pictures of tape worms, or dust mites). And apparently, today I found out that I also can't ran over anything yucky with my car without feeling like I actually step them over with my bare foot.
I know. I'm weird.
Moral of the story: when singing in the car, keep your eyes locked on the road. Don't squint your eyes when hitting the high notes.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
well = shop
In the past I would care about this, but not today. And not anymore.
I had set my priority straight, and that didn't make it to the top list.
Isn't it liberating when you throw away the pebbles in your shoes (Especially if your shoes happened to be a pair of knee high boots)?
Then you walk comfortably, you walk tall, you walk straight. No, you don't even walk anymore.
You glide.
I have started to be well and I feel calmer than I can remember.
I know I'm starting to be well once I gained my primal instinct back: shopping.
We're going to the big gigantic outlet mall this weekend.
I had set my priority straight, and that didn't make it to the top list.
Isn't it liberating when you throw away the pebbles in your shoes (Especially if your shoes happened to be a pair of knee high boots)?
Then you walk comfortably, you walk tall, you walk straight. No, you don't even walk anymore.
You glide.
I have started to be well and I feel calmer than I can remember.
I know I'm starting to be well once I gained my primal instinct back: shopping.
We're going to the big gigantic outlet mall this weekend.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
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
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
Monday, February 12, 2007
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?
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?
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
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.
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."
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."
Thursday, February 01, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
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.
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.
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.
Monday, January 15, 2007
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...
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...
Sunday, January 07, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
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.
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.
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