Monday, July 19, 2010

lesbleu





I bought the batik materials from JACC, Inacraft, and traditional markets in Bali and Balikpapan. White necklace above is from a small stall at Double Six, Bali.

Batik dresses and jackets are designed by the talented Ms. Myra and Ms. Myra =)

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

daughter

The year was struggling. It was a June with steady raindrops. Mornings would be full of heat then rain would wash down the street bringing down people from the office district to their home. People would mock at the sky. That year was a tip of something, said my mom. People all over the country felt a big energy at their core. They knew they’re going to be big. At the same time, middle age austerity pulling out what’s left for them. Canonic fundamentalists were going wild like dogs biting down the last creature found in the forest. Like vampires grooming out the last human on earth (yes, that year was also a come back year for vampires after Stroker’s Dracula).

The year was the year when old generation remembered what they saw in their youth circa 70’s. Sephia movies starred with thighs, legs, cleavages. Oh yes, they remembered it clearly. The then women leading stars now all covered up. Old, balding, fat stomached men condoned what they saw in the past, while their faces were the epitome of sleaziness.

The year was in a heat. Skirts were getting shorter and God’s payback was stronger. When suicide bombers were crucified, and so were people whose sextape was leaked. The year was the year when people wanted to do the best at everything. The best in combatting terrorism, the best in letting the outlaws grow in the name of democracy, the best in being pious, the best in sentencing corruptors, the best in not being caught up for corruption.

The year was when pancake and crepes all wrapped up into a branded high-class delicacy. Mom used to make me those for breakfast. She is the best. But, I am glad that she is not good at everything. At least, she is not the best at “inspecting” my rooms.

My father, however, was the The Best. He worships God five times a day, he fasts all days in Ramadans, he is also the best at collecting nude pictures, the best at beating Mom when he’s mad, and the best at cheating from my Mom.

He is the best at everything. Just like that year.

Monday, June 28, 2010

for(-give)

How do you forgive?

Is forgive equal to give? To give the person a second chance? To wish the person happiness? Is "forgive" = for (you to) give? Is forgiveness the purest form of giving? Because we expect nothing, even the value at our end is negative. Is forgiveness a humanity challenge? Is that a chance to show our deity human form that we can give although they hurt us?

How. do. you. forgive.

What would Jesus do? What would Oprah do? What would Zooey Deschanel do? What would Buddha do? What would you do?

If the easiest way to forgive is to forget, I want an amnesia right now.

Monday, June 14, 2010

lunch convo

We talked about relationshiz. It means, your relationship when it looks like a shizzz. I asked my girl friend, “Have you ever had a crush on somebody else while you’re in exclusive relationship with your current bf?” She said, ”I’ve never had guts to start exploring my curiosity over some guys if I knew that wouldn’t end up well. And since I’m in a relationship now, I just know, those crushes won’t end well.”

-Pak Sapardi, kami tidak mau jadi Hujan Bulan Juni-

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Saturday, June 05, 2010

just because

I stab you with another face everytime you talk
And your eyes become someone else’s
I pictured that sax man sharing his joints with me
Your mumbles are stripped with the environmentalist speech
Our silences are merriment with the joker
In my mind.
That is the farthest I can go

Monday, May 17, 2010

bir hakiem

Fast and crowded, the underground metro crept to an open air. From here a light-swamped metropolitan city life sat its sheet under an early sunset. I hiked from Line 4 Odeon and stopped at Bir Hakiem. Unlike three days ago in a row, Paris was all dry and sunny. As if it understood I would make my biggest pilgrimage that day.

Swooshing, I followed the herds exiting metro gate. There, first thing under my sight was Ares Hotel. Its marbled floor and huge white flower pots popped an automatic comparison with the hostel I stayed in. Full off all-over-the world bratz who sacrificed their breakfast with cereal, orange juice, and hard bread for the sake of midnight heavy make ups and mini skirt cross cultural mating session. In the name of Perseus, I almost swapped my card to stay in Ares just for one night.

But of course, I didn’t. I walked through concretes until carousel light bulbs were in front of my eyes. And in front of it, on Champs de Mars greenery, there stood the Eiffel tower. For French speaking mass around me, clad in thick winter outfit, walking on that pavement was just like another step on their boring city. Here, I instantly had Monas in my mind. And it was. All big, stern, ugly, and grey that tower was.

Not until horses in Carousel de la Tour Eiffel started to move and accordion tunes flowed with it. And lights emerged in each bones of the tower structure. Sky as its background, was orange and purple blended, like a summer night in winter. Tourists around me, mostly Spanish speaking, shared that moment with their spouses, partner, family, and acquaintances. While I hugged Vincent deeply. He was my friend’s bad ass Nikon. I was alone on Parisian street.

Going back from there, I rode from Bir Hakiem until Line 6 finished at its last stop at Charles de Gaulle Etoile and spent a while in Arc de Triomphe, although I could’ve just taken Line 6 straightly to Lumiere. I prolonged my way back to the hostel because I wanted to see this city with you in my mind. On that journey, I played Anda with the Joints and SORE. It was just perfect. And, what do you do on a particularly perfect moment? You tweet, of course. And this was my tweet:

“walked back from arc the triomphe with SORE and Anda in my iPod. the only thing missing was my guy.” 6:58 AM Feb 17th via TweetDeck

And then I wondered what did you do back then. Were you asleep or working. Did you also walk with me in your thought. Then I knew you were not. I was all alone on Parisian street, even in my mind.


Three days after 2010 Valentine's Day

Thursday, April 29, 2010

ticket(s)

Act 1
Scene 1


(A sunny day. A couple celebrates their third anniversary and passes by Bunderan HI. It is a bright day with all Bunderan HI water hoses working, sparking a complete round to the sky. Suddenly a cop stops the car and said the bf didn’t flash the car sign lamp)

She : Don’t give them money. Ask for the ticket.

(Bf climbs down and the cop escorts him to their checkpoint. Gf doesn’t believe that he will go for the ticket, so she also go out and leave the car. After a few word and half an hour battles with the cops, they get into the car again)

She : Good that we didn’t pay and got the ticket
Him : Honey, if you’d just let me give my joker innocent face, we could’ve escaped that. And if you hadn’t interrupted, I could have just paid them 20k rupiahs. And they gave us the red ticket, not the blue one. It means that we should go to the court.
She : No. Ticket is good.

(Then they have their anniversary lunch)

Act 2, Scene 1 and Act 3, Scene 1

(Two days later and three days later gf rides with two different people and both of them get stopped by cops. Gf doesn’t do anything knowing the “get me a ticket negotiation” puts heaps of heat on her head, hence double briberies)

Act 4
Scene 1


Him : Let’s meet up. I’m going to give you the ticket receipt and please come to the court on behalf of me.
She : WTH? (putting this into her mind: being a law abiding citizen is a turn off)

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

termites

Green leaves dangling scarcely from evenly planted trees. Legendary statues leading us to all corners of the world. Vienna, Canada, Monaco, and we saw Florida.

“I tell ya, this is looks a lot like Florida golf course. I thought the warehouse will be located somewhere shabbier,” said a person behind me.

In fact, this is not shabby at all. We entered a real estate empire. It made us see grand skins but felt like as if it was a typical Jakarta bus terminal without shelter.

As I let sunshine sipping on my skin, we reached Paris. The cluster. We stopped at a house that looked new but was not taken care of. Another person who rode with us knocked his forefinger to the door panel.

“Should watch for termites, this kind of woods,” he said. “In my old house, we planted a big cow head outside. It attracts big red ants, which will scare termites. And it worked. Traditional wisdom is magical, too bad we set it aside.”

“Yes, but you will get butches of red ants,” I said while frowning my head thinking what if a big cow head was buried deeply in my front yard.

“No, you won’t. The ants won’t come up,” he replied.

After we finished our business there, I went home. I showered, washed my hair, and just dried it with a towel. Then I slouched in my mom’s bed. Mom was looking for our Kartu Keluarga, and dug for some more items. After she finished, she looked disappointed,

“All of your life stories are gone. I wrote about your growth from the very first day I saw you until when you’re about six year old. Hand written. And it’s all gone. Also your brothers’,” she said.

I lied flat on my stomach and buried my face into mom’s pillow, with my wet hair touching some air. “Why, Mom?” I tried to be nor disappointed or mad.

“Termites ate them,” mom said lightly.

We should plant a big cow head. Or just write a blog instead. It’s termite-free. I should’ve had typed those stories and saved it electronically.

“But Mom, do you still have those cassettes with my crying in both side A and B?”

Oh, please don’t let all my life gone by termites.

Monday, March 15, 2010

possess

"Sendhil Mullainathan, a Harvard economist, points out that there is often a big gap between what people say they’d like to save and what they end up saving. Saving, he argues, is often “what didn’t happen”—the accumulation of decisions not to consume. Consumption, by contrast, is an active decision to buy something. One product he is testing in India involves collaborating with banking agents to sell “savings cards” in shops, so that saving becomes an active purchase and can compete with other impulse buys. With luck these kinds of innovations can help the poor use their own savings to make life just a little more predictable," from The Economist.

Indeed, our desire to buy an object is as if we will accomplish the final objective of buying that object. i.e: when we buy books, the instant emotion is knowledge fulfillment although we haven't read that book. The act of buying reflects our instinct to possess, which is active, covering our desire to complete ourselves passively. And the innovation above tricks our psyche to actively save money. While saving in the bank feels more passive as we lost our possession to numbers in bank statement. We people like to possess.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Thursday, March 04, 2010

tidbits 1: karaoke is political

When you do karaoke with late 1960s and early 1970s born people and mostly men, sing heavy metal rock songs: Metallica, Deep Purple, or the most attainable ones (reachable by pop vocal range): KISS especially “Beth”, Rolling Stones, or Queen. In the most desperate times, pick The Beatles. Where there are more women, choose The Tremeloes kinda songs or early Celine Dions. More choices are melancholic songs with a bit of guitar riffs and endless desperate rising part, i.e. Air Supply’s “Making Love Out of nothing at All” or Meatloaf’s confusing song “I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)”.

With late 1970s and early 1980s, sing Indonesian band songs in their golden years: 1990s of course. Like the first café band ever recorded: Java Jive, “Kau Yang Terindah”, “Gadis Malam”, or Protonema, Kahitna, GIGI, and Dewa when Dhani was sane. Mid 1980s have preferences of singer songwriter genre Jason, Jack, John; pop punks, J-Rocks, or challenging solo vocalists such as Mariah Carey and Michael Jackson. To put some jokes in it, choose Warna’s “Ada Cinta”, or Nicky Astria’s and fellows songs. To put some local groove, ME’S “Inikah Cinta” and Titi Kamal’s “Jablay”. I don’t sing current Indonesian pop chart, even Kuburan and other current trending bands are too bad to become jokes in karaoke room.

Choose your songs based on your audience and they will like you and think you like the same songs as them.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Aqua

I made Aqua’s selling drop, at least by three populations. Why? Because I told my friends that I asked my bf to open his mouth to put a medium (not small, not big) 500 ml Aqua bottle or a banana in it. So he can feel what a BJ feels like. I mean, it’s such a chore and I don’t understand that anybody could enjoy their jaw open and up and shoving something that also functions as a urinal channel, for one hour.

And my friends will never touch Aqua again without thinking of my bf and his buggle boe.

There I said it.

And I feel so sorry because Aqua has this program “Satu untuk Sepuluh” and WASH for people in Nusa Tenggara Timur.

I’m half Flores and I’m so sorry, Aqua. But, I think guys should know about the effort their sexual partner makes. Next time I will bring him on a waxing experience. Ha!

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

no middleman

Amount of money and time I should’ve paid if I had used a middleman to renew my passport (assumption):
IDR 575k (275 k for passport fee and 300k for the middleman), 3 days

Amount of money and time I spent without middleman:

1.Form Submission (Monday)

Taxi (Bekasi-Immigration office in Jakarta): 90k
Form : 0k (free of charge)
(But, the) Folder costs: 5k
Hours waiting: 8 hours
Submitting the form: 1 minute
Taxi (immigration office-Plaza Senayan): 25k

2.Picture taking, fingerprinting, etc (Wednesday, Day 1)

Day(s) after form submission: 2
Wake up time: 5.30 AM
Taxi (kost – immigration office): 25k
Arrival time at the immigration): 6.30 AM
Hours waiting before the immigration’s open at 8 AM: 1.30 hours
Time they told us that their online system was down: 8.30 AM
Taxi (immigration office –my office): 40k

3.Picture Taking, fingerprinting (Thursday, Day 2)

Wake up time: 5.30 AM
Taxi (kost – immigration office): 25k
Arrival time (Got the second turn): 6.30 AM
Hours waiting before the immigration’s open at 8 AM: 1.30 hours
Fee: 275k
Picture taking, fingerprinting, and payment done: 9.30 AM
Taxi (immigration office –my office): 40k
Arrived at the office: 10.30 AM

4.Passport Collecting (Wednesday, the week after)

They said my passport would be done on Tuesday and my feeling told me it couldn’t be, so I came on Wednesday.
Wake up time: 6 AM
Taxi (kost – immigration office): 25k
Arrival Time: 7 AM
Hours waiting before the immigration’s open at 8 AM: 1 hour
Time they told me my passport was still in process: 8.30
(my feeling was right, and it’s Wednesday!)
Taxi (immigration office – my office): 40k
Arrived at the office: 9.15 AM

I just calculated the cost at my end: 590k, 1 week and 3 days
Assumed cost I should’ve paid if I had used a middleman: 575k, 3 days

Ha!

(And I haven’t got my passport yet, so the cost would sum up at least for one more day)

It’s tiring being a law-abiding citizen.

Monday, January 18, 2010

power struggle

Bf’s favorite radio channels are the one where Bittersherry’s bf works and the one that doesn’t broadcast any ad, with nonstop jazz and pop songs. He tunes into those radios every weekend. That means in all our dates with me, as a person with ears, included in the car. He doesn’t play his iPod. And thank God he doesn’t do that because his iPod only consists of Rockstar Supernova contestants’ numbers.

One Saturday, I bought this Java Jazz deluxe pack CD. Indra lesmana, Gilang Ramadhan, AS Mates, Donny Suhendra, and Dewa Budjana finally come up with their new album “Joy Joy Joy” after a long hiatus. I thought, bf is pretty tired of those radio channels too. I thought, I am giving us a new music flavor of the night. I thought 29 year old guys are all grown up. I thought this and that. And, I slipped in Joy Joy Joy CD A in the middle of Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” right when it shouts “MASTER voom voom MASTER,” Master yes we get it you adrenaline-d macho men.

Java Jazz’ “Exit Permit” reached its fifth second when my bf pulled out my poor CD out and said, “Hey, be patient. The song will be over soon. Then you’ll have your turn.” I was sick with that particular rock radio and that night was their oh listen, Request Night. And I was pretty mad that he thought I did not know how long that Metallica’s number last. You might think the last drumbeat is when the song ends. We all know it’s wrong. Dream Theater and Metallica’s songs are like multiple orgasms. You thought U’ve reached the climax but there are many stages after that in one song, often with different genres, melody, timbre, texture and rhythms.

Fine, he could do that and I could do what I do best: silent treatment. I took my iPod and listened to random songs my iPod played and it played “Half of My Heart” by John Mayer and Taylor Swift. Suhweet. Bf then pulled my earphones. I put them on again. He then increased the radio’s volume. And then I started humming. And my iPod was very smart; it played totally different kind of songs than that stupid screaming Metallica. It played, “I’m Easy”, “Kissing a Fool”, songs by Los Indios Trabajaras. One more thing that my bf didn’t know was I study best with loud music. In this case, that loud stupid Metallica is my catalyst to listen to my iPod better. Then of course, he did not turn off the radio.

And that my friends, is how silly a simple thing can be. Based on this article, there are five stages in a committed relationship; Romance, Disillusionment, Power Struggle, Stability, Commitment. Each stage has its own period. But, my Power Struggle stage keeps on showing and in my case, it is infinite. I was in my fourth song when “Master of Puppets” ended (slight exaggeration here). Finally, I said, ”The song would finish soon huh? Like, tomorrow?” And the power struggle stage continued. But really, who likes plain vanulla relationship?

Friday, December 25, 2009

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

It's Christmas time and I know not everybody has the privilege to attend Christmas eve mass in the cathedral then waited for their bf to finish Sholat Maghrib at Istiqlal. Here's what it feels like, please take a piece of its warmth =)



Jakarta's cathedral seen from Istiqlal pavement



Cathedral's gate



Christmas eve mass with Indonesia National Police' Protection.


After that, bf's almost 30 birthday dinner:






Both: Bebek Bengil Restaurant




nephew #3



nephew #2 with his glow in the dark pumpkin pajamas



nephew #2 with his future diet


Hope your holiday be fuzzed with love and warmth, y'all!

Thursday, December 03, 2009

uniform

In uniform, I see you in function and form. I don’t really see your face. I don’t see your hair. Just like when most people think Asians or African American or Indians or Aborigins or Arabs share the same face between them. Or when we see orangutans or macaques, they have similar faces the first time we see them. When they clad you in short skirts and skimpy shirt with your hair done that people call you sales promotion girl, I want you to please, smile, and serve me. When you put on your student uniform I want you to adhere with the school system. I don’t see your eyebrows, your eyes, let alone your personalities. For me, this is why some people have fetish in uniform. We, the lookers, are the subjects who determine your function. I don’t want you to talk back, god forbid give me ideas. You have to fulfill what your uniform represents. It’s all about the persons not in uniforms.

This is why I don't like uniform.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

active listener

I found this article when flipping through websites during my morning green tea before work ritual, “Feeling Grumpy is ‘good for you’”. And I love the phrase “annoying happy types” they use there. It basically says:

“An Australian psychology expert who has been studying emotions has found being grumpy makes us think more clearly.
In contrast to those annoying happy types, miserable people are better at decision-making and less gullible, his experiments showed.
While cheerfulness fosters creativity, gloominess breeds attentiveness and careful thinking, Professor Joe Forgas told Australian Science Magazine”.


It’s like, wow someone feels me. Disclaimer: I’m not saying I am attentive and thinking carefully, but I am gloomy in general. Happy, in appearance at least, is not something that comes easy for my 25 years living. I have curved down lips. Not flat, not up. Lips, which I recall from some scientific facial research, belong to persons who age sadly. In my normal state of expression, my lips are curved down, I look barky. Bf keeps telling me to smile, like everyday. I know I have wide angled smiley lips, and it looks slightly better than the normal state (One has to know what one’s got). But, it is hard to stage.

Anyway, I try. I changed my blog background from black to this I-don’t-know-what-variant-of-green-is, my twitter background is a happy purple with soft flowers, and my emo suicidal mood has changed drastically recently, not that I ever had it but you know what I mean. I rant fewer; I create dark surreal poems full with metaphors scarcely, the obvious one is black is no longer my favorite wardrobe color. It all comes with effort. Oh, and smileys in texts, there you go. An effort.

Do not think that I made the effort to change my branding. No. More practical reason for me is to become a less of an active listener. In my whole life, people talk to me more than I talk to them. And perhaps, not happy face (interpreted as serious by overly verbose persons) and attentiveness play some roles here.

Has this reduced my attractive active listener characteristic? No. A large number of my YM conversations still consist of me saying “trus?”, “and?”, “why?”, and just a bit of my counterpart asking ”how about you?” five lines before the conversations end. And I say “trus?”, etc in a full conscious, fabricated, so you will be satisfied with this yours truly active listener.

Being an active listener (really, one has to know what one’s got or perhaps the only thing that one’s got) is well, interesting. Some people even ask me to conclude and giving them inputs. Sometimes, I feel like analyzing a discourse using Laclau and Mouffe discourse analysis theory, and should write a thesis upon a love story. I feel honored and doing something useful, and scientific.

When an active listener counterpart keep being a verbose counterpart in his/her life and shutting down their opposite chatter, their position is not equal with the others. I see you, yes you chatty persons, as people who come, talk, and leave without paying a shrink fee. In contrast, the always be active listener is also a dumb. Should have a right portion for everything, right? Hence, my effort. Meanwhile, talkative people*, pay up your shrink fee. I kid I kid, you know I love you *lots of smileys* ohhh, and XOXO.

*Talkative people do not always appear happy. Lots of them are masked in black rock n roll gloomy weed-full face.

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

sniff

Luncheon with rose-bouquet-tea in a blue china, poached egg, breakfast sausage, savory waffles, and grapefruit slices. This accompanied by conversation on rose dripping boughs or about the new wallpaper; a stained blue Victorian which looks perfectly worn out. Nah, that’s just in my Anne of Green Gables induced fantasy. My lunch yesterday unlikely came with a practical tip (from an often-sniffed-by-the-pregnant-wife-husband) of how to get rid of cigarette stink from your body. This accompanied by a bowl of cap cay and pineapple et orange juice.

So, here we go:

1. Smoke in open air; smoke stink will stay bolder in an indoor room, most likely if you’re sweating. So, try not to sweat while smoking. Wind also helps ‘sweeping’ the smoke away, thus open air.

2. Wash your mouth with cookies, water, and then some peppermint candy after that. Food helps a lot to reduce the smoke stink.

3. Also clean your nostrils, either with tissue or water. Brown nicotine residue usually stays there because sometimes you also exhale the smoke through your nose.

4. No smoking in a room, car, or any other places that easily invite the pregnant wife’s sniffing cyborg ability.

5. Shower. Duh.

This is so random, I know.

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

my typical morning

Me: we turn right at Bunderan HI

Taxi driver: Oh, you mean Cokroaminoto street

yawn (some drivers say Cokroaminoto street some say Sutan Syahrir street some say Imam Bonjol, all I know is the street lays right to Nikko Hotel) So, by not negating or approving, I said…

Me: We turn right to the street beside Nikko Hotel

Taxi driver: yes. It IS Cokroaminoto (some drivers would say, “Yes, like what I said, it IS Sultan Syahrir-or Imam Bonjol-)

Time for me to google or simply ask, so I wouldn’t have mornings so typical anymore.

Friday, August 28, 2009

so...

I have two relationship journals
the first one tells my boyfriend’s bad behavior
the second one glorifies our shunned glittery times
I will reveal the first one if we broke up
The second one will be our reminder at our 40th anniversary.
Only one third of this information is true.

Monday, July 13, 2009

wishful thinking

It was a chill night. Bf just got back from his business trip and for some reason I didn’t speak to him at all. Me and silence do not correlate to each other, seeing this bf drove his car further from my place. “Why are you so silent?” I knew where this conversation leads to. With a good ladylike manner I answered, “Nothing.” Ha. Then, he drove rather far away.

“We can go to Taman Menteng,” I said.

Abandoning my wish, he strolled through road to Erasmus Huis. I remembered our favorite place near there, Trattoria. Okay perhaps he wanted a comfy place to talk and a good pizza plus free after dine in baileys! Yaiyy! Wrong. He parked his car beside a large vacant land.

“What do you want from this relationship?” he asked

Why so serious? I’m so tired I wanna go home. Should I answer?

“Ha? Uh? What?”

“Why do you still want to be with me?” He asked again, try to clarify, but I think those two questions had different meanings.

Why did you ask ?

“Why….?”

“Just answer. Please.”

Then he got out from the car, lighted his cig and reached for a small bendable bench, put it on the grass beside my door, and sat there. From up here (his car is a minivan), he was literally on my knee.

Okay, here we go. What a tricky question, such a prick. Why am I still with you? Umm, what will girls say? because…I feel comfortable with you, I need laughs, you need me, definitely. I like to share…you know…our needs. Be prepared for the best and the worst. The worst would be he’s breaking up with me with that typical passive aggressive question and the best would be he’s proposing me. Hey, he was (at least seemed like) kneeling!

“…Because I like spending time with you…”

“For how long?”

How do I know, damn. I wanna go home yada yada yada, let’s kiss and make up. To make this fast (I always believe, when it hurts and lame, better do it quick), I jerked this off.

“For…ever…”

“In what form?”

Oh, here we go when men become complicated. This is tricky. In what form my butt! Are you talking about what kind of social contract? I wanna go home. I f I said, I’m okay with any form, he’ll think I’m not taking us seriously. If I said marriage, God forbid, he would successfully trap me to say it first.

“In what form, I don’t know,” rolling my eyes, exhausted.

“Well, listen,” he stepped on his cig butt and put a serious melancholic face.

Here we go here we go, he’s gonna say it. What will I say..um…perhaps, Oh baby, what a sweet of you, but I’m not ready.

“Honey, I love spending time with you. But, to take it to forever, some things need fixing. Like you, would you please speak in a more soft intonation (referring to the unmentioned catfight) and not cornering me around, more importantly, do not always ask W H Y?”

But, WHY? What’s wrong with why?

“Wh…y?”

He continued, “If I said something, would you please don’t ask WHY and just enjoy whatever ride we’re having?”

I remembered EQ Puradiredja’s tweet, “Nothin' you can do about it.. Its too strong to be denied. Don't you try to understand it.. Just relax and enjoy the ride.. :)” Alrite honey, I got it I got it. Could we just go home, My Name is Earl DVDs are waiting. Dang, the long ride was just for a very simple proposition and suggestion.

“Ok.”

There you go, no engaged lady for that night. I was just having a wishful thinking. But at least I know, he’s in a better mood and giving soft cheekkisses. He played OASIS Live Acoustic Playlist before, and now he intentionally hit the Tony Bennett duet playlist. I preferred OASIS better so I could sing along with it, but Tony Bennett duo showed he’s having beautiful butterflies in his head. Much better. Hey, nothing is better than a guy who’s recovering from a bad mood. They’re as soft as sheepskin.

Monday, June 29, 2009

love

Flaky cotton candy hay

Blue pink yellow and none of them is grey

Like a charm in life, I want you to stay


Some lollipops are blinding my way

I get bored and fell black as the ashtray


But, poppies will bloom, at least every May

And, you, my baby, will not be a passé

Ov . June 29th 2009

Thursday, May 07, 2009

capitalism

Politics is personal, and business is not. That what makes business atmosphere is more tolerant than politics. Chinese businessmen would make sure that their product is Halal, Moslem realtor would build Chinese mini garden, Christian rattan maker would make special packages for Idul Fitri parcels. The end desire would be money, but the experience in taking humility of our own labels, namely religion, skin, and nationality to serve others would form up the melting pot ambience. The chance to open the minds for the sake of money is a priceless experience that none economic system can foster, except capitalism. Where in capitalism we shed the labels that seemingly formed by our cultures, which we cannot even see the clear reason except clearly for ego booster and identity to differentiate us from the others. Further, in which people are to trust others based on meritocracy rather than identities that have sipped into our skin becoming a subconscious rage to be defended, with no real evidence.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

charles darwin

Darwin's masterpieces:

“On the Origin of Species” (1859), “The Descent of Man and Selection in Relation to Sex” (1871) and “The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals” (1872).

On the "Origin" : Darwin presented extensive and compelling evidence that all living beings — including humans — have evolved from a common ancestor, and that natural selection is the chief force driving evolutionary change.

On the "Descent of Man": "Sexual selection was an additional force, responsible for spectacular features like the tail feathers of peacocks that are useless for (or even detrimental to) survival but essential for seduction," Charles Darwin.

On the "Expression":


Illustration by Thomas Porostocky; Photographs by University of Cambridge
In “The Expression of the Emotions in Animals and Men,” Darwin traced connections between humans and animals in the muscles used to express emotions such as grief and terror.

Historian Richard Milner said, “Everyone should find his own Darwin. The man was so large. He was a zoologist, a botanist, an explorer, a travel writer, a philosopher, an abolitionist, a doting father, a radical intellectual revolutionary with an utterly conservative and blemish-free lifestyle. He revolutionized every field he touched, and he was trained in none of them.”

www.nytimes.com

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

rug




nymag.com

mirror




nymag.com

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

kebaya

There is no connection between kebaya and Kartini Day. Never. Yet, I posed politely every year as a child to win Walkin in Kebaya competitions. Therefore, I am digging to see why Kebaya has been a symbol for Kartini Day for quite a long time. IMHO, Kebaya DOES compliment women’s body. With its tight lines, boobs squeezer top, super wrapper sarong, and kitten heels, you can just imagine any man would love to rip that off you in the middle of paddy field. Kebaya DOES compliment women trait to be lean with mother-like or virgin-like, or even soft, weak, poke-able figures. Kebaya DOES compliment woman’s body to be sexy (remember, tight tight tight) yet mysterious (tight and closed). Kebaya DOES compliment every man’s dream about how Indonesian women should be. To wear a Kebaya, we should have a perfect body minus fat gulp on the back of the hand, in our biceps and triceps, even on our upper back. No fat on our hips or thighs. Unless, it is not the noble Javanese woman that you picture, it’s the mbok-mbok. To wear a kebaya, we should walk one inch at a time unless you will stumble. To wear a Kebaya properly, you should tidy up your hair, at least with French twist or a bun, with small flower.

If you want to connect a Kebaya with new order culture, there you have it.
But, if you want to connect Kebaya with Kartini, there is no such connection, other than Kartini wore Kebaya as it was a mass product for women clothing in Jepara years ago.

Happy kartini Day. Burn that Kebaya down. I’ve never liked Kebaya, anyway.

blahgirls.com

John Mayer's Diary Found

Thursday, April 02, 2009

crazy pinko jacket


as a mediocre jacket collector, i think this jacket is ohhsome.


NET-A-PORTER.COM

a

most of the male characters in my sentimental side of life (read: romance) have names started with letter a, followed with d:

adi***
adr***
adr*****
adi*****
and, my dearest
ade aka adi**

life is so funny

Monday, March 30, 2009

Sore.

Yesterday concert at Teater Salihara was definitely the best concert for me for the first quarter of this year. Bringing the theme “Publik untuk Ruang Publik” (Public for Public Space), the concert blending vintage Indonesian motion pictures with music from indie spheres, KunoKini, Efek Rumah Kaca, and Sore. Located in a nearly invisible area in South Jakarta, the grey brick-stoned community house was moderately packed with tweens, teens, adults, and mature people to attend the closing ‘ceremony’ of National Movie Month 2009 themed “Sejarah Adalah Sekarang” (History is Now).

Interesting choice was made to close the month by playing those bands while slides from vintage Indonesian movies were playing. KunoKini hummed and hit the drum while environment- forest-rain like slides played, also a clip from Tiga Dara. Then, Efek Rumah Kaca gave music to G/30S/PKI slides by Arifin C. Noor (seriously, this is one of the most horrific thriller movies in the history). The last, Sore was assisted by classic romantic sagas, such as: Badai Pasti Berlalu, Ali Topan Anak Jalanan, Gita Cinta Waktu SMA, Kala, Pintu Terlarang (the last two were not romantic at all, tho).

KunoKini was highly applaud-able. Who can ignore a whole set of traditional percussion, nice humming and whistling techniques, tribal ethnic fashion and tattoos, guys who can rap, wear keds, and utter smart lyrics (such as “UU-APP F*** that Shit!!”) ,move to reggae mood, and have dreadlock-ed heads? Definitely not me. The highlight of their performance was when the slide listed various Indonesian cultures that were “stolen” by other countries, mostly Malaysia. And the list went beyond twenty and KunoKini bombarded the audience with ever so nationalist lyrics.

Efek Rumah Kaca set aside their “Lagu Cinta Melulu” image and uncovered their true flesh: political, dark songs with high guitar distortion. They did not rest at all for 30 minutes, and left the audience with no oxygen hearing their songs in chains with GS0S/PKI movie. So frustrating. I bet this was their aim. No doubt, they successfully heightened the tense. Aside from their no engagement to the audience, their music was helluva dark and melodious at the same time. Not recommended for those in suicidal mood.

Sore. What can I say. Perfect, except for some sound failures on Ade Firza’s mic (I guess they should put the lyrics up on the slides, like karaoke, you know what I mean). Sore brought vintage Indonesian sounds complimented with psychedelic, melodious, and a nice Synthesizers combination. To add, their composition was genuine, smart, and so Indonesian. To imagine, their songs were like bringing you through the journey of faded old photos from Kebun Raya Bogor to Old Jakarta night life. From La Ramblas to Monas (hmmm…too farfetched). However, there is not much Indonesian band with Indonesian sound. To mention some: GSP’Gypsi, KLA, Humania, and Sore. Last night, Sore knocked down their repertoire and impressed the audience with hard and loud sound combined with blossomful lyrics and melodies. They made my eyes misty, especially the "Lullaby Blues" song.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

DC

Dane Cook replied my email. A documentation of a fanmail.
Gw merasa kayak ABG lagi. Hoho.

Me:

Hi Dane,


My name is (insert my full name), from indoensia.

1. i am following you on twitter
2. i made several replies
3. i wonder whether you ever received it or not, because somehow if i don't follow a person in twitter, and that person replies me, i won't be able to see the reply.
4. So, here you go....my replies for your tweets so far. (and i listed my tweets)

Again,
Happy Birthday!

-me-



Dane:

saw them all -- just get a ton ... KEEP SENDING and THANK YOU!!!


DC


Hahah.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

when osama and obama collide

one of Indonesian Legislative Candidates put both names in one poster.

ugly posters

Let’s see what happened around lately. Indonesia is coming closer to the 2009 presidential and legislative election. The balloting will be done on April 9th 2009. The impact, generally, is now cities all over Indonesia look ugly because they are donned with haphazard posters from legislative candidates from not two, not three, but more than 30 political parties. Each centimeter of empty space in Jakarta is sticked with small pamphlets with various uncoordinated colors.

Moreover, It’s pretty tough though, since I do not know most of the candidates’ names and faces. To sum some, click this . And, this year, more and more celebrities participate as legislative candidate as well. Rumor has it, including as a presidential candidate (Dedy Mizwar, everyone?). I say, it is a good thing, since I know those popular faces, they know how to handle crowds and put on some image management, they publicize themselves properly. And, it does not mean that they are less intelligent than the non-celebrities candidates. All they need is some super responsive and smart core team of people.

I do want to make the wisest decision. But I think it’s pretty hard, since there is scarce source of information that explains these candidates neutrally. I really just hope Indonesia has less than 10 parties. It makes choosing easier for a complicated person like me. It means, I don’t have to think this and that’s. But, with a country with more than 17.000 islands, you never know.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

lomo

Don't think, just shoot.
So curious for Lomo
Holga kit, Colorsplash camera, Horizon 202, Pop 9, Action sampler, Cybersampler, Super Sampler, 3D Camera set, Smena 8 dan Seagull TLR. and, iPhone's polarize application!!
let's see. Would i try it or not.
anyway, i'm in for everything vintage.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

island caretaker

some of you know arief aziz, some of you don't.
well, here i fully support him to take a leap in his life
to be an island caretaker
watch the video and give him some stars, folks!

Friday, February 20, 2009

fire fair

She would now lit the fire
Even though it’s hard to make it fainter
She would put puzzle of words
He would put narrative in herds
She would lost knowledge just sense
And sparks of logical emotion being now and then
He would tuck seemingly rational proposal in a den
She would see him as having no bargain
As he tired of this monstrous situation
He slapped the door and going to his heaven
She would stay still with no move
As if the open door will prove
That the roar she heard before
Would be his cycle back to the harbor
Would be him stepping in again at the door
But she would stay still with no move
And melt within the truth of the rouge
Embracing the pain as it turfs
And dissipate it to a fair
That sometimes, she needs to lit a fire
To make life fuller with flair

Monday, February 09, 2009

me no dali

Being a person graduated from a program with a feminism class in it doesn’t make me a feminist. I mean, ideally there is no feminist, multiculturalists, anything good-ist, simply compact everything into a humanist. However, I dissipate patriarchy and support feminism just because sparing women for her second class social constructed- traits is something occurs from diminutive minded persons and is a very dull thing to think of.

A friend gave a gender class one day and asked male religious teachers to describe traits associated with female. Their answers were: those who make coffee, prostitute, soft, those who turn us on, and those who make something sleeping becomes erected.

EEEEWWWW, I know. This post comes as a friend alleged me to be non-feminist despite of literatures that I read. He said, “I have a very strong and independent woman colleague, she said, she doesn’t care if her husband cheat on her. She’s very into her works. I think, it’s because of her high self-confident. I think, she describes our era of women, when feminism has influenced women’s attitude widely. That’s how a new woman should be. I mean, there are some women who are repressed in their relationship, but they don’t do anything about it although they understand feminism. They do whatever the male partners want them to do: change religions, get married soon, doesn’t allow her to meet her friends, etc etc. But this woman colleague of mine is so great that she doesn’t care if she is cheated, she has a full confidence that she’s happy because of herself, not because she is being with her husband.”

Hmmm…..did you see teh nini face when AA Gym decided to “split” his love. Me no Gala and Salvador Dali who said okay when each other had more than one concubines. And, I think, a relationship will not be at its purest form anymore if one of the person cheating, and it doesn’t have anything to do with feminism or strong women, it’s simply a matter of how you keep your words to another person.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Sam

My favorite author, Samuel P. Huntington just died on December 24th 2008. I read his books for his straight to the point and never boring line. Perhaps, strongly, because the minute I read his Who Are We? I found the elaborative explanation of what I had in my entangled mind, that Culture is the heartbeat that makes people march everyday,including to the war.



Jonah Goldberg said that Huntington's 1996 "The Clash of Civilizations" work:

"was deeply, and often willfully, misunderstood and mischaracterized by those who didn't want it to be true. But after 9/11, it largely set the terms for how we look at the world. In it, he argued that culture, religion and tradition are not background noise, as materialists of the left and the right often argue. Rather, they constitute the drumbeat to which whole civilizations march. This view ran counter to important constituencies. The idea that man can be reduced to homo economicus has adherents among some free-market economists, most Marxists and others. But it's nonsense on stilts. Most of the globe's intractable conflicts are more clearly viewed through the prisms of culture and history than that of the green eyeshade. Tensions between India and Pakistan or Israel and the Arab world have little to do with GDP."

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

2009

Year : 2009
Mood : Pessimist Optimistic
New Year’s Eve : Mediocre
I think God is : Funny and doesn’t like me partying
New Year’s Resolution : Think Less
Hair : Longest ever
Bod : Bf said no changes since 2007
Age : turning 25 (ouch!!!)
Thought : saving for car, house, children’s education
Dream : master degree, travel all over the world, read,
write, having a small creative store or magazine,
working with arts, culture, creative things,
mastering striptease
Philosopher : Edmund Burke
Hunk : Dane Cook
Prophet : Bob Marley

Monday, December 22, 2008

xmasy

I had two conversations with two different friends from two different countries in two different places. The first one from the sandy beach Australia, the later from Austria (but he never seen the “Sound of Muziek”). In café au lait and shisha cafe. Both asked me the same question, about how I feel living a country with the biggest number of Moslem people. How could I ask for more, Indonesia is a tolerant country which has religious holidays from five (not only one or two!) but five different religions. And, each religion has more than one holiday. That is the simplest example. Could anyone mention more countries with the same attitude?

I am a happy Catholic living amidst Moslem friends and boyfriend.

Anyway, I put a perhaps case in that. Perhaps, it’s just because I am surrounded with tolerant friends and family. May this tolerance go around without an end.


And,
Merry Christmas

Thursday, December 11, 2008

deaden

I know what it feels like when they told you not to pass but you still trespassed. The chill the blood the anguish bitter cold numb. Though it is a bliss to see ladybugs sometimes in the dark. I cannot go climb the oak tree and surf to the other dimensions afar. I just wish this frosted and blazed rainforest will turn itself into a warm weather landscape with flower and butterflies where I can submit my whole tiredness to. Your sublime is a mask. I detest all pains and lax that forms your gigantic darkness. I need your regular everydayness.

Monday, December 01, 2008

ithink

people who have got nothing to lose are either those who have nothing or everything

Friday, November 21, 2008

1980

i was born in 1980s and I always think that decade hugs me. Just like a night with its glistening lights that I leave the morning after for a more sunny future. But I cannot ever forget the night. And Barry White is the epitome of the night's soundtrack. Dian Pramana Putra, Vina Panduwinata, Guruh and his Gypsy,Barry White, Ally McBeal (I know this is in 1990's, but most of its soundtracks are White's), ABBA, The Doors, late Queen and Beatles. Except the first three names, the others actually marked the seventies.

And yes that is my elementary school for music. 1970s and early 1980s. It is like moving on from a philosophical search to a more steady, warm, familiar, comforting, and a disco-ey quixotic nights. When you can dance on the rooftop of your apartment, without siding whether to go to war or not.

This ia a Love Orchestra Unlimited Video, conducted by Barry White in "Love's Theme". Released in 1973, it became one of few pure orchestral songs ever that proved to reach number one seat in Billboard Hot 100 in the history. "

when i wake up

i would shower and dress and open the door and walk down the stairs and i would meet tiny men who guard our residences playing guitar. And i would walk the small path which has just recently ashpalted, together with a traditional market odor blended with traditional treats people buy for breakfast. a brown sugar coated sticky rice, deep fried cassava, and coconut milk stirred rice. I would stand on the pavement and looking for an empty cab. My gesture would be the same as the young men, girls, mothers who stand on the pavement, stretch their arms and point their index finger, waiting to be picked up by cars which need the second or the third passanger or both within theirs.

And, everytime i get to get a cab, some of them are still standing outside.Some see their friends get lucky, already hitchhiked to an airconned car. I wonder whether they wished to be me who can control which cab I want and do not have to stand still for two hours just to get a ten thousand rupiah.

Just exactly what I feel when I see women buying a Dior Saddle bag.
When that kind of feeling vents out, remember it's all just a mental slavery.

"Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds. I've no fear for atomic energy cause none of them can stop the time," said Bob Marley, Two most powerful sentences I have ever heard.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

witness

I am so lucky to be a witness of a historical event. White Anglo Saxon Protestant to African American Protestant. It is like a day when Indonesia being ruled by a Chinese-Papuan descendant who believes in Buddhism. It is a long way to go.
Today, Barrack Hussein Obama elected as the 44th US President. May it inspire the whole world.

Like, take from the easiest one...not using sawer-able Dangdut singers as a way to promote party's promises.

Btw, of his victory speech, this is my favorite line: "It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation’s apathy."

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Bandung

Bandung is a destination to fill your primordial needs. From food, relaxing, having a conversation over a cup of bandrek, sleep in the car, food again, and smooching around behind your friends’ back.

I went to Bandung two weeks ago with my friends. Disclaimer, I am not a Bandung fan. I am not a girl who spends her once a month weekend to Bandung. I go to Bandung for about once a year. So, when I went to Bandung two weeks ago, I searched for different template activities rather than nongkrong at some coffee shop or shopping.

That being said,

we stayed at Concordia





and
we went to:


1.Kopi Selasar

To, clearly, nongkrong, have some coffee, you can choose also several kinds of liquor coffee and some smoothies, although they are too sugary. Have a conversation with a gallery-ish architecture surrounded with abstract wood statutes and mountain view breezy air.






2.Sari Ater Hot Water Spring.

To play flying fox, go-kart, and to raft. Since this place is pretty far from the city, that you can even have a siesta on the way there, Go there before noon, so you can catch up the last go-kart schedule, which is at 5 p.m.






3.Sapu Lidi

No need to ask. The food will get you bloated like blah. I mean, if you feed yourself excessively. Find various kinds of sambal together with your dish. We agreed that it was the best food we’ve had in the last one month.




4.Congo

Feel the masculine atmosphere from big logs of wood as their basic of architecture. You could use the air-coned room with glass on each side if you will. But, sitting on the sofa with cozy pillows could steal your heart out until you fall asleep on it. It’s like being a guest in Aiden’s, Carrie Bradshaw’s ex, house








5.Boemi Joglo

Order its lychee ice, coconut ice full of coconut milk (they are so generous giving away those), beef satay, tofu, and its chicken and mushroom steamed rice. Perfect meal to defend your stomach from the cool air.


And, of course, Bandung fired up our most primordial selves, being idiotic.



Wednesday, September 17, 2008

my baby

For you who are questioning, what happened to my plan buying Nintendo DS, well, I kind of altered the plan into buying a sleek all touch screen mobile phone. No, not iPhone 2.0. But, LG Viewty KU9900. It featured 5 megapixel camera, with DivX video recorder, Google package, HDSPA, 3G, you name it. It was so flashy that the video was crystal clear as well as the sound. And someone robbed my two weeks baby two days ago while I was inside a bajaj.

My personal belief is, whatever the reason is, stealing one person’s possession away is intolerable. Whether it is about your phone or your life. Whether you are poor or not, stealing or robbing or killing, is unjustifiable.

I am not planning to drown myself too long. When will iPhone 2.0 arrive in Indonesia?

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

wrath. i am a kid losing her popsicle. they took away my dance classes. you name it: dance show, hip hop, R and B night, belly dancing, all. as a replacement, they made classes with wieght lifting movements. What? sexiness and movement coordination is overrated now??
ah well, i am digging Joshua Radin.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

women pay

We learned from our infamous cultural classes, that we have to embrace, at least know the concept of feminism. We learned, and yes we cursed guys for enjoying the patriarchal system, their male gaze, and for departing the sexes into two binary oppositions (thanks Mr. Edmund Burke). We blessed the philosophy that women need equal chance as what men have. But, did we mean it?

Most of my heterosexual female friends have bigger money, bigger salary, and bigger inheritance than their male partners. When the bill comes, and it’s time to pay, unlike any other typical romantic imageries, the female ones pay more than fifty percent of the bill. What do you think? I think it’s is realistic, and it does happen, in fact, in most regions in Indonesia. More women now do have bigger salary than men, or bigger money from paddy harvesting, even.

For most of the time, we are lured by diamond advertisement, clings of wine glasses, happy faces that show excitement, the male counterpart is buying you a diamond stud! And in all media, we see that men pay. Look at our sinetrons, advertisement, novels, television, reality show, gossip show, even from our parents’ mouth. But the trouncing reality has different story. There are women who pay more than their men. I am not saying about the equality anymore, instead, about women’s superiority in financial bit.

In a society which runs both paradigms, feminism and patriarchy, women who already have no problem with equality and now being more than men will feel these tiny weenie feelings:

1.Why do I have to pay?
2.Is he with me just because of my money?
3.Why can’t he pay?
4.I am not supposed to split my money
5.It’s okay to be like this
6.I want to be in a conventional relationship
7.I hate lame guys
8.I don’t like it that my boyfriend is a cheap ass but I like him more for his other loads
9.I have no problem as long as he also treated me conventionally (a.k.a treat you)some other times.
10. etc. and etc.

Have you ever experienced this bummy mushy feeling?