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.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
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.
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