Crimson Courage

In support of our incredibly brave friends in Burma, may all people around the world wear a red shirt on Friday, 28 September 2007...

NYC: Close Encounter of the Second Kind

Like thousands other people from around the world at this time of the year, I was in New York for the United Nations General Assembly. As usual, world leaders flocked to the city to share their views on everything and nothing at the same time. The security was omnipresent, roadblocks were set up around the UN complex, and helicopters were hovering above the East River.


Although my interactions in the UN complex were for the most part confined to the basement, I was thrilled by being in an indeed multi-cultural environment; mingled in a crowd buzzing with numerous languages I did not decipher but found fascinating nonetheless. In the middle of that Babel-basement cacophony, I recalled that the seventeenth century New York was inhabited by a population below one thousand speaking eighteen separate languages.


As the city where the UN Headquarter sits, New York had its abundant share of quagmires when it came down to welcoming leaders who were not particularly liked by the US Government (or People). This year’s firebrand was not a fresh contender, as the Iranian President continued his 3-year ritual on visiting New York for the UNGA. This time, however, he had a new agenda: delivering a speech at the prestigious Columbia University.

New Yorkers soon found themselves in a new dilemma: whether or not they should let Ahmadinejad say what he had to say in the name of free speech. As it turned out, the President was personally invited by the university president, and eventually delivered his speech in front of a full-packed crowd. From what I read about the event, there were two quotes which were of great interest to me:

“Mr. President, you exhibit all the signs of a petty and cruel dictator.”
(President of Columbia University, on introducing the controversial guest speaker to the audience)

“In Iran, we don't have homosexuals like in your country.”
(President of Iran, on responding to allegations that homosexuals are being persecuted in Iran)

The President (the latter, mind you) surely knew how to pull strings, even in a hostile environment. He stirred the water further when he reportedly asked NYC administration for a permission to visit Ground Zero. The request was flatly denied by NY Administration, and solidly backed up by the Secretary of State who claimed, “It would have been a travesty for Ahmadinejad to visit Ground Zero."

Travesty or not, it was a great shame that he missed the 50% sale on Century 21 nearby.

NYC: Close Encounter of the First Kind

Yeah! I’m in New York, baby!!

I once read that life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the places and moments that take our breath away. Such was the feeling when I had my first glimpse of the Big Apple.

As my plane descended steadily from one of the world's longest non-stop flight routes, I peered through my window and indulged my 19-hour-flight-weary eyes on the vast expanse of lights that is New York at night. The glittering sea was glorious, albeit devoid of its arresting close-ups which heretofore was unbeknownst to me.

This was my first time in NYC, and the city looked pretty much as it has been depicted, thus immortalized, by countless Hollywood blockbusters. I could feel the vibrant energy hanging in the air the moment I stepped out of the airport, and at once reminisced of something my colleague had said about being a single in New York [grinned].

I was arriving on a weekend, but the streets in Manhattan were literally bustling with life and horns were blaring everywhere, the numerous “Don’t Honk” signs on the curb notwithstanding. Sirens howling, and judging by the frequency of encountering NY famous firefighters zooming with their beacons on, you would think that fire accidents were common to New York as ignorance to Jakarta.

All in all, I’m absolutely positively sans doute sure that I’m gonna have one helluva time here…

Tragic Comic

I thought time heals. I thought time makes you forget...

Then why everything else went fuzzy the moment I saw her glossy smile?

I guess even after all this time, I'm still the same ol' hapless romantic, st-t-tuttering p-poet, and a tragic comic.

A Diplomatic Paradox

What is a diplomat?

According to my Widyaiswara*, a diplomat is someone sent abroad to lie for his/her country.

Needless to say, that was not the politically-correct version. But I’m not going to mull or argue on the definitive term.

In my not-so-humble opinion, here in Indonesia a profession of diplomat has its own, unique definition. In a nutshell, a diplomat is someone who leads a double life in terms of lifestyle and bank saving.

When you’re currently posted at home (that is to say when your status being a PNS/government employee), you struggle to make ends meet with your below-par and ridiculous salary (and 70% budget cut). Even people who drive public transportation for a living (read: busway drivers) earn more salary than you [no offense]. Pathetic that may sounds, that’s the way it is and you need to adapt. To adapt here does not signify or justify any act of fraud. I despise people who commit such thing in the name of their hardship. Every option you take has its own consequences, and you should lie on your own bed. To adapt here does mean that you have to adjust your lifestyle to your paycheck. Of course, it goes without saying with your bank account, too.

Now for the sunny side: when an Indonesian diplomat is posted abroad, he/she leads almost entirely a different life. Fat pa¥ch€¢k$ are guaranteed every month, with many much-welcomed benefits. He/she gets to drive fancy cars (could get away with traffic misdemeanor, sometimes), doesn’t pay taxes, and lives in white-picket fences houses. What’s best, especially for men, being posted abroad provides an excellent reason to skip the monthly compulsory visit to your parents-in-laws.

Obviously, I’m taking things to the extreme. But polarization is sometimes necessary to drive your point home. Talking about home, there’s a local joke in my office about which place is the hardest post. Hardship post is a term used for posting places with not-so-convenient conditions, be them high crime rates, exorbitant price index, or simply dearth of water next to your toilet. Well, it is an accord that “home” is definitely the hardest post. Maybe that explains why I never find any mat emblazoned with the traditional saying “Home Sweet Home”, here in my office.

Having said all the above, it all eventually comes down to making your choices and accepting the consequences. I guess I can finally understand what that Englishman with funny hair really meant when he said “To be or not to be”.

[Disclaimer: This post is drafted, written, and posted by my evil twin a.k.a. BFSR* without my knowledge and consent. He owns his own oil company, earns thousand times more than I do, never pays his taxes, cheats on every woman he encounters, and is incredibly good-looking. If you feel like meeting him, leave your comment here, and I surely will pass it on to him next time we meet in our annual family reunion. ]

Glossary:

* Widyaiswara: a formal term for government employees who teach/lecture in governmental educational and training center

* BFSR: Big Filthy Stinking Rich

An Indonesian, Two Thais, and A Papua New Guinean

I didn’t ask to be born an Indonesian. But I didn’t ask to be born any other national, either. It just happened that I was born from a womb of an Indonesian woman, sired by an Indonesian man, and shed my first teardrop onto Indonesian soil.

Being an Indonesian, I’m acutely aware that I don’t have many things to be proud of. I’m not going to further depress you all by going through an exhaustive list of "Why I am not proud to be an Indonesian", but let me share you a story that happened almost two years ago.

I was doing some sightseeing in Pattaya Park Tower Observation Deck, the tallest building in Pattaya back then, I believed. The sun was shining and the wind was gentle. I was indulging myself by gazing at the beauty of the Jomtien Beach, when the corner of my eyes spotted another homemade beauty: two cute girls with Thai complexion, all smiles and giggles while arguing whether or not they have the courage to board the Tower Jump and slide down 170 meters to the ground.

I hovered in the vicinity, made my move, and casually said hello. To make a long story short (not to I imply that I needed lots of time to woo the girls, mind you), here how the conversation went:

Girl 1: So what’s your name again?
Casanova in-the-making: It’s [censored]
Girl 2: You come here alone?
Casanova in-the-making: Yeah, but now I’m not alone anymore. [Grin]
Girl 1 + Girl 2: [Giggling]
Casanova in-the-making: [Smile nonchalantly]
Girl 2: Where are you from, [censored]?
Casanova: Whoa, and I was supposed to be the aggressive party here! Guess where I come from? [with air of self-assurance]
Girl 2: I know I know, you must be a Malaysian!
Casanova: Wrong…[Laugh], but you’re almost right about the region. Give it another try.
Girl 1: Phillippines?
Disappointed Casanova: [Dismayed] Not even close. Come on, there are not so many possibilities.
Girl 2: Singapore?
Disappointed Casanova: Noo!
Girl 2: Brunei? Cambodia? Laos?
Vexed Casanova: [Annoyed] No, no. Come on, you girls surely could do better than that. I’m not from Mars, you know. [And you surely are not from Venus, mes petites]
Girl 1: [Frowning] I could not think of any other country.
Girl 2: I give up. Why don’t you just tell us?
Confessing Cassanova: [Dumbfounded] Mmm..yeah..I’m from Indonesia
Girl 1: Indonesia? [With why-I-didn't-think-of-that look]
Girl 2: Oh I know that. It’s near Malaysia, right!
Former Casanova: [Rapidly losing interest] Yeah, that’s where I come from. [Awkward silence] So, you two going to jump or what?
Girl 2: I almost forgot about that. Well, I guess we will. And you?
Mortal human: Not me, I’m too old for that. You two go ahead. Have fun, okay?
Girl 2: Okay…bye!
A sullen Indonesian: Byee…

[Disclaimer: Some lines in the conversation above have been exaggerated, as usual. Try copycating my Casanova technique, and you’ll find out that the Tower Jump is not the fastest way to hit the ground.]

Having found out that my great country was not as great as I thought, I board the elevator and took my leave with a disturbed feeling. I kept telling myself that those girls needed to plug themselves into this so-called wired world, or maybe they were in dire need of a mental defibrillation to cure their ignorance. Still, I could not help but feeling sorry for my country for its lack of image and share of mind.

Ah well, ‘tis the inescapable reality and I guess we Indonesians have only ourselves to blame. Actually, I’d almost forgotten about the incident ‘till I read the news about a Papua New Guinean who wrote a song for the aforementioned Forgotten Land. Bewilderment and reminiscence got the best of me as I ponder about two foreigners who hardly knew my country, another foreigner who managed to write a song for it, and yours truly who didn't even have time to sing his own national anthem.

I’ll rest my case there, and for now just let me wish my fellow countrymen/women a Happy Independence Day. May the future be brighter for all of us and may I never write such a patriotism-induced post like this again.

A Fateful Day

24^th of July was one of the worst days in my heretofore sunny life. My misfortune had it roots in the preceding day, the 23^rd. As usual, I was the last creature to leave the office and I decided to work up a little on my lung capacity at the office gym. 2 hours later, drained and starving, I hurriedly left the office and headed straight to the nearest eating place to treat myself a hefty dinner. Afterwards, I went home, sated and drowsy.

The next morning, I woke up to relentless ringing of my phone. I glanced at my watch with my still half-sewn eyes, and discovered it was 8 in the morning. Who in the world would call me persistently at 8 A.M.? Mind you, my bio clock has smoothly adapted to my job as a government slave, err…employee, and daily business did not usually kick-start before 9 A.M. To my dismay, I uncovered more than 30 missed calls on my log and 10 messages. They were sent by the people in my office, demanding my whereabouts. Then I read the enlightening sentence: The night before, I had forgotten to return the office keys to security, and now no one could enter the office, including my boss who apparently had been waiting impatiently for my homecoming from Oh La La Land.

I jumped to my feet, scrambled for my glasses, frantically grabbed any clothes within reach and ran to my car. No bathroom karaoke session this morning, vraiment désolé. The traffic was somewhat light, and I managed to reach the office by 8.45, only to find my boss sitting sulkily at the office stairs like some rejected door salesmen. My my, I didn’t even have the courage to put on an apologetic smile.

My boss did not utter any reproach, he just stared at me and mumbled some unintelligible words. Maybe sitting on the stairs for almost an hour was too much for him. In any case, I was grateful for getting away with my negligence. If I had been working for a private company instead of a government agency, surely my ass would have been fired faster than I can say “Ouch”.

Overnight Critic

Having abused the DVD-ROM in my ancient laptop to watch DVDs all night long, I felt like pretending to be a movie critic. Here it goes, the list of of the films. Pirated? Guilty as charged.

A Scanner Darkly

Casts: K. Reeves, R. Downey Jr., W. Harrelson, W. Ryder

What it says:

The movie is set in suburban Orange County, California in the future. It imagines a paranoid world in which it seems 2 of every 10 Americans have been hired by the government to spy on the other 8, in the name of national security and drug enforcement. (Hmm..are they sure the movie is set on the future?) When one reluctant government recruit (Reeves) is ordered to start spying on his friends, he is launched on a journey into the absurd, where outsourced government contractors largely define the social construct, where identities and loyalties are impossible to decode, and where not even his girlfriend can be trusted (this is not new, I guess). The film highlights the inconsistencies and ironic consequences of the war on drugs.

What I think:

The visual of the film is an eye candy, and the plot is a lullaby. The concoction of the two was potent enough to put any viewer into slumber. Zzz zzz zzz...


Irréversible

Casts: M. Belucci, V. Cassel, A. Dupontel

What it says:

Alex (Belucci) and Marcus (Cassel) are a couple whose story is told over the course of a fateful day. The tumultuous odyssey begins with brutal killing, and unspools in reverse to reveal the horrifying events that lead to the gut-wrenching, violent climax of the opening scene.

What I think:

Rarely did I see a movie with such a provocative display, evocative plot, and lingering aftertaste (of course, I'm just pretending to be a movie critic). The two infamous scenes had contrasting effects on me. The one with the fire extinguisher forced me to focus my eyes on the corner of the screen. The violence was such that I couldn’t bear watching, but didn’t want to look away. The one with the knife got me riveted and numb. The intensity was such that I didn’t want to watch, but couldn’t bear looking away. If you are planning to enrich your French (expletive) vocabulary, this one will make a great manual.

Moral: Girls, never walk home alone at night. Find the most suitable (and eligible) guy in the proximity to accompany you. [Grin...]


Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

Casts: S. Baron Cohen

Kazakh journalist Borat Sagdiyev (Cohen) embarks on a journey across America to make a documentary. As he zigzags across the nation, Borat meets real people in real situations with hysterical consequences. His backward behavior generates strong reactions around him, exposing prejudices and hypocrisies in American culture.

What I think:

Light and entertaining, I laughed politely here and there to several politically-incorrect mockeries. I didn’t expect much despite its nomination at the 79th Academy Awards for Best Adapted Screenplay, and the movie befitted. It was a welcomed change of mood, though, especially after watching Irréversible.


Babel

Casts: B. Pitt, C.Blanchatt, M. Akhzam, G. Garcia Bernal, K. Yakusho

What it says:

A rifle shot echoes through the rugged, mountainous terrain of Morocco, and the lives of four separate groups of strangers on three different continents collide: a vacationing American couple; a rebellious deaf Japanese teenager and her father; a Mexican nanny who, without permission, takes two American children across the border; and two Moroccan shepherd boys. But none of these strangers will ever meet one another.

What I think:

I wonder how Pitt manages to look good in any role/hairdo/clothes/no-clothes in any movies. Second thought, I don’t think I want to know.

I’d been looking forward to seeing Babel from the time it was played in the Jakarta Film Festival few months ago, but I failed to secure a seat. So I settled for a low quality, bootlegged DVD. Not exactly politically-correct, but one needs to adapt.

The movie offered something novel, and I particularly enjoyed the use of four different languages: English, Spanish, Arabic, and Japanese. One note about the Japanese, Yakusho’s acting performance as a deaf girl earned her an Academy Award nomination for Best Female Supporting Act, the first for any Japanese actor/actress. Some movie critics claimed that Babel should have won the Best Picture instead of The Departed, but I’m not going to argue on that. I recommend the movie.

Moral: Kids, don't play with guns.


Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

Casts: R. Downey Jr., V. Kilmer

What it says: Harry Lockhart (Downey Jr.) is basically a decent guy. Sure, he’s a petty thief who skates through life on a shaky cocktail of dog-eared charm and cockeyed optimism, but he wants to do the right thing. He just doesn’t know how, exactly. Harry’s perpetual bad luck takes a turn for the better when he and his partner are doing some after-hours Christmas “shopping” at a NYC toy store and the security alarm breaks up the party.

What I think:

The security alarm starts up another party, involving Kilmer (Gay Perry, a private-eye who is..well..gay) and Michelle Monaghan (Harmony Lane, Harry’s high-school heartthrob. The One Who Got Away? ^_^). Despite the title's resemblance to my own bitter experience, I don't have any strong opinion about the movie.


The Good Shepherd

Casts: M. Damon, A. Jolie, R. De Niro

Edward Wilson, the only witness to his father’s suicide and member of the Skull and Bones Society while a student at Yale, is a morally upright young man who values honor and discretion, qualities that help him to be recruited for a career in the newly founded Central Intelligence Agency. While working there, his ideals gradually turn to suspicion influenced by the Cold War paranoia present within the office. Eventually, he becomes an influential veteran operative, while his distrust of everyone around him increases to no end. His dedication to his work does not come without a price though, leading him to sacrifice his ideals and eventually his family.

What I think:

I would enjoy any movie featuring Angelina Jolie. Or Damon. Or De Niro (He is the director, by the way. The Good Shepherd is De Niro's second directorial undertaking after A Bronx Tale, which I also enjoyed very much).

Moral: Family first, career second. Mmm, or is it the other way around?


Underworld: Evolution

Casts: K. Beckinsale, S. Speedman

What it says:

The saga of war continues between the Death Dealers (vampires) and the Lycans (werewolves). The film traces the beginnings of the ancient feud between the two tribes as Selene (Beckinsale) and Michael (Speedman), the lycan hybrid, try to discover the secrets of their bloodlines. All of this takes them into the battle to end all wars as the immortals must finally face their retribution.


What I think:

Cool, dark and entertaining. It’s a blend of brutal limb-shredding, fast-paced action; immaculate lovemaking; and straightforward plot. Kate Beckinsale is indeed the most beautiful vampire, conveniently beating Ryder in Bram Stoker's Dracula.

Moral: Sunlight doesn't only cause cancer. It burns, too.

Homecoming

As the plane touched down on Polonia's tarmac, I let out a sigh of relief. The trip was not at all convenient with all the unnerving jolts and bumps. I was concerned to think that in spite of my personal accumulating mileage, in the not-so-distant future I might have to be drugged before even contemplating putting my ass down on that supposedly safest-means-of-travel-known-to-man.

The aforementioned apparatus taxied, and telltale tones of Nokia phones being prematurely switched on were audible everywhere. It is my strong opinion that there should be more stringent laws stipulating penalties for the mentally-challenged with mobile phones. This statement might not sound very politically-correct, but I am easily annoyed to see people talking exuberantly INSIDE an airplane, as though they could not live without their phones for mere hours.

If what Roy M. Goodman said were true, that happiness is a way of travel – not a destination; then I stepped out of the former into the latter being an unhappy man. I proceeded into the main airport building with a lingering aerotitus and was immediately charged by a throng of porters fighting for my insignificant shoulder bag. I repelled the nuisance by switching into my old hometown persona: I glowered, snarled, and shoved. Homecoming was supposed to be a pleasant experience, but 1-hour take-off delay in Jakarta managed to ruin my mood. And to think that I spent a bulk of my ridiculous government salary on this particular airline for its comparative punctuality! As much as I hate to admit it, the recent ban by EU on Indonesia’s airlines seemed justified at that very moment. To add to my list of grudges, the airport was as dismal as I’d remembered it, regardless of the recent news that it had been chosen as one of the best airports in the country.

Anyway, I left my grievances at the landing strip, and reminded myself that I was coming home for a good reason. My youngest sister was getting married, and it turned out that almost 1500 guests (rough headcount) swarmed the wedding party. As I shook hands here and there, vague recollection of faces and forgotten names were rushing through my head. Also, as the wedding render me the only one in the family not brandishing a ring; the handshakes were inevitably supplemented by polite/impolite/downright annoying questions of kapan nyusul?

No matter, though. A family gathering was always something to cherish about, and a broad smile was etched on my face as I buckled up en route back to the capital three days later. At the end of trip, I think I’d settle for George Burns’ version of happiness: it is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city.

Félicitations, ma p'tite…

Familiarity is Security? Not!

Never thought that I'd miss my messy desk at the office.
Funny how you yearn for all the dull routines when you're on new grounds.


-Crb, 26 June 2007-

Fantastic 25

Jessica Alba is back!

Unfortunately, she’s decided to tie the knot and the lucky groom is Mr. Fantastic. Not bad for a geek.
I went to see the Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer with a bunch of friends. Actually, ‘a bunch’ was thoroughly an understatement; ‘a mob’ was more appropriate. There were 25 of us, all were eager to see Alba in tight. Well, maybe that last statement applied to me only.

Anyway, armed with popcorns, peanuts, fries, and all sorts of sugar-spiked liquid, we conquered a quarter of the available breathing space in the studio. Pandemonium almost ensued when some of the guys started hurling popcorns at each other, but hard, disapproving stares from people around gave us a harsh reminder that we were grown-ups albeit in a crowded room gaping at some comic superheroes.

The movie was okay, and I am not going to dwell on the plot. The bottom line, I was thrilled as we were breaking my personal record for nonton bareng. These days, it’s not easy to assemble a group of friends to have some fun, let alone a throng of self-proclaimed busy narcissists. Afterwards, we made a vow to break the freshly-achieved Fantastic 4 record with Shrek 3, coming soon to theaters unwise enough to admit us.

An Inevitable Course Into Senility

Happy birthday to me, myself and I.

Until death do us part.

Smitten and Crestfallen (The One that Got Away)

Did you ever feel like holding something precious within the grasp of your hand…?

It was so precious, yet it was something you'd already taken for granted.

You were filled with hopes and expectations, were eager to fulfill, were ready to be happy. You were trembling with anticipation, trembling, shaking; your hands were shaking…

Stupid fool, didn’t you know that you were holding a handful of sand?

Didn’t you realize that you were gripping too tightly? That you were shaking too fervently, too eager, and thus the sand started slipping down your fingers…slipping away…slipping steadily like in an hourglass without a bottom bulb. Irreversible.

You were frantic. You clutched even tighter, prayed, pleaded, clasped that precious something close to the beat of your heart. Grim realization dawned that they kept slipping away, scattering, and started embracing the passing wind.

Resignedly, you opened up your palm…lingered the sand grain, remnants of memory short-lived. And you wondered, how did you fuck up?

Summary of the Long Weekend

On the sunny side:

• Completed Final Fantasy XII (never managed to obtain the Zodiac Spear, though) and switched to God of War II;

• Watched 88 Minutes, Déjà Vu, and rewatched three Big Arnie's old flicks;

• Started reading Koontz's Dragon Tears.

On the sticky side, I numbly watched as Drogba ruined our dream of Double. After a rather sluggish, disappointing 50-50 contest for more than 100 minutes or so, I was resigned to a penalty shoot-out to conclude the game. Out of nowhere, a beautifully executed one-two with Lampard allowed Drogba to clip the ball over van der Sar and hence sealed only the fourth FA Cup in Chelsea's history. Couldn't be helped, I guess. I have been procrastinating to post MU's ninth Premiership title to Double the savory victory, but one would have to do.

On to the next season, alors!

Ouch!

Sh*t happens.

Especially when it rains.

Smitten and Crestfallen (Fly Away)

I wish that I could fly
Into the sky
So very high
Just like a dragonfly

Id fly above the trees
Over the seas in all degrees
To anywhere I please

Oh I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah yeah yeah

Oh I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah yeah yeah

Lets go and see the stars
The milky way or even mars
Where it could just be mine

Lets fade into the sun
Let my spirit fly
Where I am just one
Just for a little fun
Oh oh oh yeah !

I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah yeah yeah

I got to get away
Feel I got to get away
Oh oh oh yeah

I want to get away
I want to fly away
Oh yeah !

-L. Kravitz-

---

______________________________________________________
Afterthought:
It ain't fair
That a man walks
When a bird can fly
We have to kick the ground
The stars kiss the sky
They say that spirits live
A man has to die
-JBJ-

The Magnificent Seven

11' Carrick
17' Smith
19' Rooney
44' Ronaldo
49' Ronaldo
60' Carrick
81' Evra

I won’t spoil the glorious moment by writing unnecessary comments. Savour the sweetness of annihilation, and bring on the Germans, or the Italians, or anyone on this form!

Hái yuăn ma? Bù yuăn!

Being in Beijing for only a short business trip, I nevertheless stick faithfully to the ancient adage of working hard, playing harder (long live nocturnal attaché!).

The first night, the hotel concierge told me that the hotel was ‘very close’ and within ‘a walking distance’ to the famous Tiananmen Square (and Forbidden City, naturally). Well, I didn’t know whether a) I was so physically unfit that a mere ‘walking distance’ wore me out to a state of panting breath; b) I was duped by the concierge into walking there, so that by the time I got back to the hotel, I would have been in severe need of the exorbitant hotel massage service; or c) the locals had different concept of ‘close’ and ‘walking distance’ (when in China, act like Chinese).

And what’s worse, the Square was closed due to (I think) an official visit by a foreign dignitary. Pfff… I ended up lurking at the gate, trying to find any anglophone who was willing to take a picture of me grinning under the photograph of Mao. No luck.


Second night, I prowled the Wangfujing, looking for mementoes fabriqué en Chine. And there were plenty here and there. I made my first purchase like a good tourist should: no bargain. I learned my lessons quickly, though, and eventually managed to cut down on my price tag to almost 50%. Shopping had rarely been better. =)


Not surprisingly, Beijing streets did not only offer shopping, but detailed program of excursion would not be disclosed here to protect the guilty. My visit did not allow me enough time to get acquainted, but I was pretty sure I’d be seeing the city again. Till then, zàijiàn!

Lessons in Joyful Living

Enfin! Mon propre guide de la vie écrit par Trixie! Cela va sans dire que je n’ai pas vraiment besoin de critiques cinq-étoiles pour aimer ce livre, c’est simplement magnifique!

Si vous aimez les chiens ou êtes un adorateur de M. Koontz comme moi, vous voulez sans aucun doute trouver une copie. Trixie sait comment vivre jovialement mieux que presque tous les humains.

'Nuff said! Grab your copy now!

Headline of the Day

Headline of the day: I can’t be held responsible for the flood, as it is a natural phenomenon that re-occurs every five year.

Well, that’s something fresh. I didn’t know that appalling city-planning, disgraceful waste management and meager infrastructure are made in heaven. If that’s the case, I guess the only solution for the flood in Jakarta is up there in the sky.

January 28th, 2007

I am mystified. Usually, it's the other way around.

Maybe I'm more desperate than I care to admit all this time. Or maybe I'm just being too thrilled for my own damn good.

But it has been a long time since I feel so alive, since I have this ancient feeling of yearning.

Lo and behold, the higher you get, the harder you could fall. Then again, life is about wanting something, and going the extra mile for it. For the thing that electrifies you. To seek and to find. To hope and to fight.

I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way.

Echo of Small Things

My life for the past two weeks has been battered by days of 12-hour-toil. Well, maybe toil is not the right word, but I am after all the Drama King. The new unit is exactly as I suspected it would be, with longer hours, and more workloads. Some people say bigger paychecks, too, but hitherto the bucks are yet to be seen. LOL…

But hey, sometimes money is not the main issue. And as my nose grows longer, I try to find the small things in life that never fail to lift my mood. The list could be short or exhaustive, depending on the vibes, but in general, I can always take some things for granted:

1. KIS FM Rock Weekend and Wednesday Slow Machine
I couldn’t believe that someone actually never heard of KIS FM. But I console myself by the fact that the culprit is 18 years old, definitely does not match the audience profile of my favorite station. The songs from the station have been faithfully keeping me company, especially on morning traffic jams.

2. Hanging out with my friends
I refuse the notion that it is related in any way to the age issue, but I reckon it’s getting difficult these days to find the ‘quality time’ to hang out with my friends, as I’m sure many of you will agree. Nonetheless, I always try to end my day with some good laughs with like-minded friends.

3. A drag or two of my A Mild
Not a healthy habit, I concur, but a drag of my cig usually soothes the mind. Maybe because of the ‘light head’ and ‘butterflies’ that always ensue after the first cigarette. I dunno. Will the world ever see nicotine-free cigarettes?

4. Few sessions of Freecell/Playstation
From a simple, rudimentary FreeCell game in my PDA to Rockstar's magnum opus, GTA: San Andreas on PS2, I love 'em all! Old habits die hard.

5. A moment of contemplation...in the john.
Thinking is the best way to travel.

The list goes on…

-Some of it’s magic, some of it’s tragic, but I had a good life all the way - JB (He Went to Paris)

Tour of Duty

I’ve been abruptly assigned to a new unit, effective immediately. New desk, new faces, new responsibilities. I wonder what lies in store…I’ll keep my fingers crossed.