Finally Woken

Men Are From Mars

"I'm in love," he said. "This girl is... something. She's special."
I nodded. Waited for more explanation.
"We had sex for 14 hours."

Oh. O-k then. Good sex = in love.

Minutes later he and another bloke were in deep conversation. The topic? The best pair of breasts he has ever seen. Big is not only the criteria, apparently, although it is the most important one. Their eyes were wandering around the bar. To be precise, wandering from one pair of boobs to another.

I stirred my glass. I couldn't explain how I felt. Partly I was amused they thought they could talk about this freely in front of me. Party I was annoyed by the lack of respect they showed to women in general.

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Modest Indonesians?

A lot of things happened since my last thread. Most of them are too taboo or too kinky to be revealed in this such public place so if you are still interested you might send me an email asking what had happened, and I might answer your questions. Perhaps you might find some answers in my Facebook account, though I can't guarantee 100%...

Anyway, after being back in Indonesia, I have noticed a thing about Indonesians which I haven't thought before. We are so modest we always apologise about everything, even though it is absolutely unnecessary. One day Alison and I were following a guy who gave us a tour around the coffee plantation in Magelang, and even though he could speak English very well, as well as French and Italian, he still apologised for his skill. He didn't see that most of us in the group are too lazy to learn other languages, (the French and Italian groups' English are even worse than anyone I know), the guide who promised to speak only in English so he didn't have to repeat himself three times, finally ended up explaining things over and over again.

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Before Hiatus

I've got to say that it has been a busy week for me. I had a promising lunch meeting to discuss the future of Indonesian Expatriates Forum last Friday at Cazbar. Tamara and Greg turned up after 5 and we had few drinks before decided to try our luck at Loewy.

Now, I had try to arrange a meet-up at Loewy but every time I was told that we must book the table at least two weeks in advance, a strange concept for Indonesian. But we felt quite adventurous that night and went anyway. We didn't get a table, obviously, but we secured a good spot at the bar. After several minutes spent to look around, my impression was: boring. I don't know why people are so into that place these days. It's just like another hang-out place, nothing spectacular about it. Except that everybody apparently goes there. No surprise then after 20 minutes, my friends alerted me that the guy who just walked in and ordered drinks next to me was someone I probably know. I turned around and saw my ex boss. Correction, my ex-CEO. We ended up talking, and thank God, it was nothing about work. At the end we left the place about 2.30 AM, right before the waiter kicked us out. Such a long day, considering I started drinking after lunch time.

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Wrong! It's Hard To Say I'm Sorry

Why is it difficult for some people to admit they are wrong, let alone apologise, even though they know they are wrong, or proven wrong?

In my attempt of trying to understand this particular person who has caused a major headache for the past two days, because I couldn't put myself in her shoes, I went around in the virtual world trying to find some answers. And I guess I did.

We all have a hard time admitting that we're wrong, it's not entirely our fault. Social psychologist Elliot Aronson says our brains work hard to make us think we are doing the right thing, even in the face of sometimes overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

The engine that drives self-justification, the energy that produces the need to justify our actions and decisions — especially the wrong ones — is an unpleasant feeling that called "cognitive dissonance." Cognitive dissonance is a state of tension that occurs whenever a person holds two cognitions (ideas, attitudes, beliefs, opinions) that are psychologically inconsistent, such as "Smoking is a dumb thing to do because it could kill me" and "I smoke two packs a day."

Dissonance is disquieting because

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Yesteryear Revisit (Age That I Wish To Get Back To)

I once tagged about this by Fida, asking what age I wish to get back to, and I have briefly mentioned about it in this post because at that moment people from the past suddenly reappeared in my life at the same time, a long overdue project was back in full speed, and of course, Indy was back after 19 years hiatus.

But then Woelank and Ecky also tagged me recently, and this time, I let myself think a bit harder, and I realised there is one particular moment in my life I wish I could get back to, not because it was full of loving memories, but because of that I had to bear a consequence for a long time, and if I could turn back the time, I'd certainly do the other way around.

I was probably 23 or 24 and...

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Belated Apology from The Ass-Pincher

About four years a go, Stuart and Huib celebrated their joined birthday by throwing a BBQ party at Bugil's bar. I think it was either Saturday or Sunday afternoon, and there were about 50 people turned up to stuff their faces with sausages, burgers and beers. Most of them were people we hung out with, the usual suspects. Some I didn't recognise, and I guessed they were either party crashers or Huib's friends.

By late afternoon, it became too hot and people gradually moved inside to get some cool air from the bar, and before long the bar was packed with people buying beers and other cold drinks. I stayed outside for most of the time, close to the food supply. Sometime before dark I went inside to go to the loo. It was absolutely crowded, and I had to push myself in between people just to pass. On that moment, I felt that someone had pinched my bum. I stopped, looked around, but there was no indication who did it. I really had to pee so I continued my journey.

After I finished,

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Me and Them; A(n Almost) Lesbian Love Story

Inspired by Rima and Therry's posts about how some people just click and become so close after only several months, as well as being insanely jealous because they don't include me in their (lesbian) combo, and seeing that their posts drove more traffic to their blogs respectively (hence, more jealousy), I decide that rather than begging (waiting for) them to love me, in the spirit of virtual competition, I have to brag that I actually have that sort of relationship they're having now.

Those who read my blog regularly might know that Ecky isn't just my blogbuddy. She is my buddy. Well, more than a buddy, actually. She is one of my best friends in real life. Flesh and blood and all. Considering that we met only a couple of years ago, we have been developing a very strong bond between us. Even back then I sometimes wondered how we could fit so perfectly and understand each other so much sometimes we're so alike it's scary. She is one of my (real) friends who blog, and last year we were trying to learn HTML language, we spent a lot of time in front of computers (me in Aberdeen and her in Jakarta) and discussed how to put widgets, or how to change the header, or what is technorati. Both of us have had zero knowledge of HTML language so we were learning by doing. When I was back for holiday, we and other friends met up for a coffee and before we realized we talked about blog and bloggers, and I was helping her to fix her expandable post mode, up until our other friends started to feel annoyed because they were left out of the conversation and couldn't understand a single word we were talking. My passion of writing (or to some, it's more ranting but what the heck, others love my rants!) was infectious, and Ecky (as well as another best friend Melly) started to write more regularly on her blog.

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Let's Get This Party Started

Bigger is better. More glamorous is better. More people to attend is better. Longer train, heavier make-up, and higher hair, are better. The more expensive is better. The more famous people, from caterer, hairstylist, until the list of guests, are definitely better. Anything that screams 'I'm rich, I'm fabulous', is typical Indonesian wedding. Even though the bride might look like Krisdayanti rather than herself on her wedding day.

But we are going to have something small, intimate, low-key, party. We had tied the knot last year, and this time is the celebration as well as the first anniversary party. We only invite a bunch of close friends and family and after a long consideration we changed from 50 to 100 guests, well, less than 100. It's considered very, very, very small in Indonesia, but that's what we want.
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Continue to Finally Woken to read the complete story.

When Things Gone Sour

This particular woman drove me mad almost two years ago. Her twisted mind and even more twisted words were really upsetting, and I had to remind myself that she is married to someone I care about, to calm myself down.

That argument is never settled. I kept insisting that she was involved in a matter that was totally unrelated to her and she didn't show a respect to me and my family. I told her to mind her own business and stop messing with people's life, especially those whom she doesn't know. She doesn't even have my mobile number for God's sake, she hadn't seen me for years before this issue came up, so how could she think she could preach me about things she didn't even understand? But when her replies came, they became more bizarre every time. She is not a type of person who has structured braincells and since I was too busy even to get some descent sleep, after replying 3 or 5 crazy text messages I decided to quit arguing. It was useless. I didn't have time and energy, and I didn't want to jump into her labyrinth of mind, where I couldn't decipher where the reality ended and where the fantasy began.

Keeping It Private

Is this a growing trend among Indonesian bloggers?

I have found out that at least three of my blogbuddies have decided to restrict their blogs, which means only invited users can read them. They're quite popular and one of them has been listed permanently on the top 100 in IndonesiaMatters. I asked two of them, and they gave me similar answers: taking a break, reflecting, attending new important thing(s) in life which need full support or concentration, etc. I found them decided to do this almost on the same week.

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My blog is updated today, 30 June 2008. Click Finally Woken to read the complete story.

The Long And Winding Working Hours

I   have quit my job and left Indonesia a year ago, but still receive job offers from time to time, although no one dares to relocate me back to Jakarta as en expat (*wink). But when I was visiting my ex boss in his fancy office after having dinner with my ex-colleagues, seeing the whole department was still complete and on full force even after 9PM (and received a request if I could help them out since I'd be here for 2 months), I blurted that I would not want to go back to this working habit. And I mean it. I have been there and done that. And I have no intention of doing it all over again, because I have the chance to choose a better life.

Just like most of other jobs in Jakarta, my days started before six and finished around midnight. I was lucky I lived (still do, actually) in the city so I didn't have to leave home before 5AM like others, but I still spent 45 minutes to 1 hour to reach my office. Normal days would be getting in the office at 8.30 and finished around 9PM, then it was either having late dinner with colleagues and friends, or attending social gatherings somewhere, or simply going to gym for a couple of hours. I used to work at weekends as well, and if the project was about to complete, I and everybody else would be awake 24 hours and stayed at the project until 3AM. When I was handling the projects outside Jakarta, my days would start even earlier and finish much later. When I moved to a different industry, long working hours remained (I once stopped over in Singapore after 13 hours flight and went straight to the conference room, jet-lagged and all), except that I could at least enjoyed some weekends off.

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My blog is updated today, 26 June 2008. Click Finally Woken to read the complete story.

I'm Not An Indonesian, Not Yet A Scottish Lady

I think the combination of being in a holiday mood, having too many things to do/people to meet/parties to attend, and having crap internet connection at home, makes me abandoning my blog. It has been over a week and I haven't been bothered to update it.

So I arranged to meet up with Therry at Cazbar yesterday. I thought I would be motivated to write something once I sat down on its wooden chair, had the lamb chop with a non-stop wine supply on the side. But Cazbar's internet connection was down right after we finished my lunch today, and only bounced back before six, right before the cheese night started, and right before Nonie came to pick me up. So I couldn't even check my emails, let alone updating my blog there, and must do everything when I got back home. Darn.
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My blog is updated today, 25 June 2008. Click Finally Woken to read the complete story.

Certain Friendships Don't Last Forever (2)

Sometimes when you're sleep deprived, you start imagining things and seeing stars before your eyes. That's what I thought the first time I saw them.

On the way back to Indonesia I stopped over in Singapore to see my best friend from high school, who's heavily pregnant and ready to explode any day now. I landed in Singapore at 6 AM and headed for shower room on the second floor in attempt of keeping myself awake. I couldn't sleep on the plane: the first 4 hours a passenger seating next to me was talking nonstop of being a Jewish and Jewish tradition (my fault, I asked. I should've known better about old people, they're chatty!), and the next 8 hours were spent on watching movies. I was thinking about sleeping for a few hours until the shops open at 11 AM but the transit hotel at Changi was fully booked, and another place offers non-private napping rooms, and the thought of sharing a room with other 7 strangers immediately put me off, so after early check-in for Jakarta and left my hand luggage, I went for Starbucks instead. By 4 PM when heading back to airport after sushi overdose and another cup of coffee, I realized that I had been up for 31 hours and couldn't wait to go home. I went to boarding room the minute the gate was open, so I could sit down and doze off. But just before I decided which song in my ipod I would use to help me sleep, a lady in red walked toward me and I realize it was Monika, my ex-colleague.

And she's not alone. There were at least 5-6 of my ex colleagues and bosses who were on the same flight as me (I have a theory that half of Singapore is occupied by Indonesian, and this is the proof) and we exchanged some words before boarding. I was ready to sleep (it had been 33 hours by then), but I must wait for other passengers to seat next to me (a downside of choosing aisle seat), so I spent time by looking around, and there, right across the room, seating on the same row as me, I saw.... them.

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My blog is updated today, Tuesday 17 June 2008. Click Finally Woken to read the complete story.

Travel With Dignity

I've been putting the packing activity off forever until the last minute. I have piled everything I know I am taking home in the bedroom corner for days, but every time I wanted to start, I just couldn't be bothered. Plus I've got zillion things to do in the last minute, as usual. This comes from someone who claims that she's organized. D'oh.  

But finally I've done it. I finished it a couple of hours a go, and I'm ready for flying back home at tomorrow's first flight. Since this time is special because I'm having a do in August, I come back with so many things I buy from here. I pray that Indonesian custom wouldn't check my luggage, because along 6 pieces of paper napkins with tartan motif and the fabric from curtain leftover which I plan to make tiebacks out of it, I have too many things they would considered strange. Like two handbags but almost non-existent clothes. Yeah, yeah, I'm weird.

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My blog is updated today, 14 June 2008. Click Finally Woken to read the complete story.

Your Comments Worth A Million (And You Don't Know It!)

This is a wake up call to all bloggers. Somebody - or many people - out there, is/are listening, or to be precise, reading, whatever you say everywhere in the virtual world. It doesn't matter whether it's trashy, unintelligent, boring, or lame. It doesn't matter whether you pour your heart out in your own blog, in a discussion forum, or in social networking websites a.k.a Facebook or MyScape. They will scoop it out, put it together with other comments on the same subject and... (here's the annoying-slash-scary part), sell it to whoever wants it!!

No, it's not the "big brother" up up in the sky. It's not our government. It's not the internet provider. It's not Al Qaeda. And it's definitely not Google or Microsoft.

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My blog is updated today, 13 June 2008. Click Finally Woken to read the complete story.