Author's Note

Hello! I hope you will enjoy reading my blog.

I am always open to comments and suggestions, in fact, they are highly appreciated! Comments (Pralines) can be posted directly under each blog entry.

Be sure to check out my old articles from the blog archive at the bottom of the page.

Please leave a comment or two in my GUESTBOOK!
An eye for an eye will make the world blind - Mahatma Gandhi

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Ibu-ibu Indonesia Usil Tukang Tanya Tanya

Sewaktu belum menikah, saya paling benci kalau disuruh menemani mami/daddy ke resepsi perkawinan. Alasan paling generik yang mami suka kasih ke saya setiap saya tanya "kenapa sih aku harus ikut???" adalah, "Kan mami pengen kamu ikut supaya mami bisa pamerin ke temen temen mami, anak mami cantik begini masa dikerem di rumah kaya tape?"

Sebetulnya enjoy sih ikut ke resepsi - dimana ada free food, buffet pula, itulah surga saya - apalagi mesti play dress up (biasanya pasti melibatkan baju yang memperlihatkan cleavage - memang saya dulu waktu masih single dan desperate muda, saya paling suka baju macam ini, makanya dulu kalo punya pacar jarang yang husband material, rata-rata model mr. meaningful one month stand material) dan juga bermake-up yang menurut saya keren nan seksi a la Janet Jackson tapi menurut dad layaknya pemain lenong atau ayam disko - yang sekarang membuat saya bingung, karena seingat saya dad tidak pernah ke disko (jeng jeng.. duh, mesti ditanya nih ke beliau masalah ini).

Yang membuat saya benci ikut ke resepsi perkawinan itu adalah biasanya setelah bertemu teman-teman si mami yang merupakan Ibu-ibu Indonesia usil tukang tanya tanya (I3UT3), pasti semuanya akan bertanya, "Jadi, kapan dong Cherry (nama mami) mantuan juga?" Pertanyaan macam ini biasanya akan membuat saya merasa ter-pressure sehingga saya tidak dapat menikmati makanan buffet dengan lega, dan apabila saya tidak bisa makan dengan perasaan plong dan bebas, itu biasanya membuat saya menjadi sangat bad mood.

Biasanya, hal yang membuat saya kesal juga adalah apabila si I3UT3 ini menanyakan hal seperti ini sambil memaksa untuk menjodohkan saya sama anaknya yang laki-laki, lebih parah lagi kalau anaknya itu dia bawa ke resepsi itu juga. Paling parah kalau dia tanya itu, sambil melirik-lirik saya dan anaknya dengan penuh arti dan nyikut si mami sambil memberi kode-kode yang menurut dia rahasia, padahal nenek nenek katarak juga akan tahu maksud kode tersebut yang merupakan permintaan persetujuan dari si mami untuk menjodohkan saya dengan anaknya.

Ini saya benci kalau anak si I3UT3 itu jelek. Kalau anaknya cakep, lain perkara. Biasanya tanpa dia sikut sikut mami saya dan lirak lirik penuh arti, sudah saya tarik anaknya ke salah satu sudut ruangan untuk *ahem* 'mengenal' dirinya lebih lanjut.

Mami saya itu senaaaaaaang sekali mempertemukan saya dengan anak laki-laki I3UT3 yang single, sukses dan cakep. Masalahnya, cakep buat si mami, belum tentu cakep buat saya. Disitulah kita akhirnya suka berantem yang biasanya akan dilerai oleh daddy dengan penyesalan diri seperti, "sudahlah schat (panggilan sayang daddy untuk si mami), biarin aja kakak cari jodoh sendiri. Salah daddy juga sih, daddy terlalu cakep dan sempurna sehingga kakak sulit cari jodoh yang seperti daddynya, ya nggak kak?" (Saya dipanggil kakak oleh semua orang di rumah saya, kecuali pembantu saya yang pernah panggil saya kak dan saya balas dengan, "Kakak? Emang bapak lu kawin ma emak gua?")

Pertanyaan pertanyaan seperti "kapan nih kawin?" atau, "kapan nih nyusul?" dan variasi variasi lain dari pertanyaan yang sama inilah yang saya paling benci, dimana saja, kapan saja dan memang paling sering dilontarkan oleh teman-teman si mami yang I3UT3, dan keluarga besar saya dari kedua belah pihak. Hal ini juga yang membuat saya kurang suka ketika Lebaran tiba, saat keluarga besar kumpul dan serentak menanyakan hal yang sama kepada saya.

Sungguh, saya cinta mati makanan Lebaran, namun pertanyaan seperti di atas saya paling benci, apalagi apabila diiringi oleh, "Makanya Rima diet, kalo makan jangan banyak banyak, nanti kalo gendut terus susah deh cari suami!" Biasanya disaat mendengar ini saya terselak dan ingin sekali melemparkan ketupat/sandal/mobil ke muka orang yang bicara seperti itu, karena walaupun gendut, saya tidak pernah kesulitan cari pacar.

Setelah menikah, saya kira pertanyaan-pertanyaan yang annoying akan berhenti. Ternyata salah besar.

Pertanyaan baru yang muncul dan sekonyong-konyong menjadi trend baru yang orang tanyakan kepada saya adalah, "Kapan nih punya anak?" dan variasi lainnya dari pertanyaan itu. Yang lebih menyinggung perasaan adalah, "Lagi isi ya? Udah berapa bulan?" karena perut saya tidak pernah ada isi selain makanan yang lezat. Yang paling menyinggung adalah nasihat nasihat para I3UT3 sok tahu seperti, "Jangan lama-lama, kan sekarang rima sudah XX tahun, nanti kalo kelamaan bahaya loh!"

Biasanya, pertanyaan seperti itu akan saya jawab dengan, "Ya sebentar lagi deh punya anak, tunggu Yan (suami saya) berhenti mens/sedang berovulasi," atau, "Sepertinya saya lebih ingin punya binatang peliharaan dibanding anak," ataupun, "Aduh mahal deh punya anak, nanti tidak bisa liburan kemana-mana dan beli barang yang saya mau lagi deh!" Biasanya jawaban terakhir akan membuat mereka tutup mulut sambil diam diam mengiyakan dalam hati, karena hal itu yang terjadi dengan diri mereka.

Tahun lalu, di tahun ke4 pernikahan kami, akhirnya pertanyaan-pertanyaan itu berhenti, karena sepertinya para I3UT3 agak takut mendengar jawaban saya yang semakin hari semakin sadis kontroversial.

Pada akhirnya saya tahu, tidak ada tempat dimana saya bisa menghindar dari pertanyaan pertanyaan menyelekit yang kerap dilontarkan oleh I3UT3, karena itu adalah culture kita, dan secara tidak sadar, saya juga sudah mulai melontarkan pertanyaan serupa apabila bertemu dengan teman-teman adik saya yang masih single, atau yang baru menikah. Walaupun biasanya sedetik setelah saya melontarkan pertanyaan seperti itu, saya langsung menyesal sekali dan ingin rasanya menyentil mulut saya sendiri.

Seperti yang Therry pernah katakan ke saya, "You are becoming what you wrote," ketika saya menulis post ini dan menanyakan kepada dia apa bahasa Indonesia dari kata offensive (ada hubungannya dengan postingan saya tentang Foreign Languages di sini), membuat saya sadar untuk tidak lagi terlalu benci terhadap sesuatu karena dapat membuat saya berubah menjadi mirip seperti hal yang saya benci itu. Tapi memang para I3UT3 itu tidak bisa dihindari, kecuali mungkin apabila saya pindah ke Mars atau bulan.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Is there really a God?

Until this very day, I still believe there is a higher power, a deity we all like to call God (or whatever His/Her name is). This I do despite legitimate and logical questions my atheist friends ask such as, "If there is such a thing as God, why do shitty things keep on happening to good people? Surely kids who died in the China earthquake, Asian tsunami, Burma typhoon aren't bad people deserving of that kind of fate?"

I saw Rob and Jakartass articles about Bakrie's obscene amount of wealth. They said Globe Asia reported it to be a nine-fold increase, while I found International Herald Tribune (had their information from Forbes Asia) saying he was worth 5.4 billion last year which makes his current net worth of 9.2 billion more like a two-fold (in case you are wondering, it's billions of US Dollars, not billions of galleons/sickles/knuts.) In any case, it is obscene and with that kind of wealth one would expect him to be more charitable and sensitive to the less fortunate. Especially to those who became less fortunate because of his company (read= Sidoarjo mud victims)

So, the poor becomes even poorer, mud victims aren't taken care of, but this asshole minister becomes the wealthiest man in Indonesia? If there is a fair God, what does S/He have to say about this unfairness?

Yesterday, I received an e-mail about a modern day Nostradamus, a master predictor, who had predicted various things accurately years before it even happened. His name is Prof. Jucelino Nobrega da Luz, a teacher from Brazil. He claims to be able to predict significant ecents in the future. He said he predicted Diana's death and warned her (by letter) about it a few years before it happened. He claimed to have warned the US government about 911 (of course they thought he was a nutcase) and the Indonesian government about the Aceh tsunami in 2004 (I am sure Indonesian government believed him - what with our mystical culture and whatnot - but wasn't able to do anything anyway). He is also very accurate in his predictions, with the time and date of the predictions. You can read some of his predictions for the year 2008 here (click the 'premonições' banner - 'premonitions to 2008 portuguese or english' and then click 'premonitions in english').

Now, I am fairly sceptical and often laugh at our culture of ilmu (black magic) and dukun/orang pintar (witch doctors), but if da Luz is the real deal, then I am a little worried because look at these predictions below

Jun/2008

54- Earthquake of 7.2 will hit Jakarta in Indonesia;

September/2008

80- An airplane fall and disappear in the southwest of Jakarta in Indonesia, it is more than 60 deaths;

87- Earthquake in Indonesia of 6.4 in Richter scale in the island of Sumatra;

October/2008

99- Earth tremor in Bengkulu (Sumatra, Indonesia) and regions next to Jakarta of 7.3 in Richter scale;

December/2008

119 - Earthquake in Indonesia of 7.4 in the Sumatra Island will result hundreds of wounded;

There are more gloomy predictions in the e-mail I received including the Avian Flu becoming an epidemic and will result in 73 million deaths by 2013; A small planet coming in our direction in 2014 which may result in a collision (Armageddon? Hope Bruce Willis will still be alive by then); And Earth temperature reaching 59 degrees Celcius in 2015, causing many heat stroke related deaths.

There are also good predicitons, although minimal, such as cure of cancer - except brain tumor - found in 2013; HIV vaccine found for those who aren't already contracted; Beijing olympics a success; And finally, Dubya admitted to the hospital in 20016, will be in critical condition (I know some people will find that as good news, and by some people I mean Al Qaeda and other extremists who live to wish harm on other people).

All this gloomy prediction and news make me dwell more in the topic of 'Why is our loving and merciful God doing nothing to protect the humans - his children, but instead cause more and more wreck, havoc, sorrow and pain?' I really don't know the answer to all those questions often thrown at me by my atheist friends. What's worse, I'm starting to pose myself those questions as well.

I'm not (yet) losing faith in God, but sometimes I do wish I was a stupid Insomniac Dyslexic Sceptic instead of what I am now. Why? At least that way when I lay awake on my bed late at night I will only sleeplessly wonder if there is in fact a DOG.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Dear Diary: A Letter From My Imaginary Friend

Dear X,

I know you feel like I haven't been around lately, no news, no calls, no e-mails, nothing. It's not because I don't love you anymore, it's not because I don't care and certainly not because I have forgotten about you. It's just that I have re-prioritized what's important in life.

Confused? Let me explain.

You know how hard I have worked for all I have and would like to have, right? How long my journey have been and how many toes I have stepped on along the way? You know how I wanted to earn as much money I can and how I strive to be the best? You know how I always look at myself in the mirror, admiring what God has given me but at the same time complaining about some other imperfections nobody even notices? Well, all that doesn't really matter anymore, everything's changed now.

I know I used to call you up or text you during a date to give you blow-by-blow of what's happening, how hot or not he is, how charming or how much of an ass he is, whether he is a potential mr. right or mr. right now. All this is now in the back burner. I have re-prioritized, what was once important is now no longer.

I remember how you told me a million times how looks and money are trivial, how university degrees and social life are inconsequential, how the only two things we should posses to have a good life is a kind heart and good health. I now know you are right, absolutely right.

I am sorry for all the times I laughed at you, I am sorry for all the times I doubted you, I am sorry for all the times I toss your advice aside and tell you how silly you were. You weren't silly at all.

Yes darling, those are tear marks you see on the paper, I am writing this letter with the deepest of sorrow, with my whole being shaking from shock and sadness and I have to go down without a fight.

You see, he told me he was positive. He told me I needn't worry because he could take care of himself. I know he can, but he means the world to me, and I can't just let him be. I wanted so much to take him in my arms and tell him everything will be alright, but I know nothing I say or do could change a thing. What's done is done and I know he feels things are taking a nosedive on his end.

The thing is, I know he's right. When you are at death's door, things became irrelevant. Money, power, career, looks, social life becomes negligible, something of no great concern anymore. I told him it wasn't his fault, sometimes the worst happens to the best people. I told him I love him no matter what and I am here for him if he needs me.

Now my heart is bleeding, and I feel like screaming, but no one can know what is happening. I have to keep everyone at arm's length for his sake, and put on a smile to disguise all the sadness and pain. I know you said life is unfair most of the time, but this time life is playing a really cruel joke on us, except this time nothing is funny.

I am so tired, I have poured my heart all out, and I need to tell you once again that you are right. Nothing is more important than a kind heart and good health, one without the other is just hollow. I have re-prioritized and am now wiping away the tears and holding my chin up.

Thanks for listening and being a friend always.

Your friend.

Amien Rais: Hush Already!

Amien Rais is at it again.

Amien Rais: Cash assistance teaches people to become beggars

Antara , Malang, E. Java | Mon, 05/26/2008 8:20 PM | National

Former People's Consultatives speaker Amien Rais says that cash aid to shield low-income residents from the impact of fuel price increases is like teaching people to become beggars.

"Apart from that, it also humiliates people because they are regarded as a burden deserving mercy from the state," said Amien on Monday.

People in other countries, said Amien, were surprised by the government's decision to distribute the money to poor people.

He said there were more appropriate solutions such as using the Rp 14 trillion (about US$1.5 billion) allocated for the cash aid to build infrastructures which would provide more jobs.

"I suspect the cash aid is part of the government's sophisticated game where they sacrifice their popularity as they have said that the most important thing is to secure the state budget and the national economy," said the former general chairman of the National Mandate Party.

People knew that when the fuel prices increased the government would still show their "affection" so that in the 2009 presidential election they would know who to choose, said Amien.

#1. These are low income families the state is helping out. LOW income. They should not feel humiliated, what they should have is more help from the government. If not the state that helps them, then, who else? They can't expect people from other nations to do so. Oh wait, foreign help has been flowing in since long ago, only it flows into the pockets of government officials instead of the intended people.

#2. What is the difference between this and the zakat* they receive from the rich? Both are helping them and I don't think those receiving zakats will all become beggars.

#3. What they will be is grateful. I doubt all low income families will be beggars just because they get the long overdue help they deserve.

#4. He says, other countries were surprised by the government's decision to distribute the money to poor people. Which countries? In Europe, the poor are the responsibility of the country. The country gets income from the citizens' tax and contribution. It's a good cycle, which is why nobody here dies of hunger, not in the last decade or so at least.

#5. Building infrastructure to provide more jobs is a good idea and looks very good (at least on paper). The reality is, even if the money is put to this use, it would most likely advantage those who do not need it. Better flow the cash directly to the poor, rather than create another project prone to corruption and bribery.

#6. If the government's sophisticated game involves helping the poor, they can play their sophisticated game all they want. If it involves death penalty for the corrupt, we should welcome the sophisticated games even more.

The Indonesian People should vote for the best candidate in 2009, one who is compassionate, who would not be lenient on corruption, who is not wishy washy, who is not discriminative against race/religion/gender, who would be strict on taxes for the rich, and I just don't think that person is him.

(Now, if he is the one with power at right this moment and this whole helping the poor makes him look good and benefits him in the next election, I bet he will have a totally different opinion on this matter)

* ZAKAT: Religious tax/a form of giving to those who are less fortunate. It is obligatory upon all Muslims to give 2.5 % of wealth and assets each year (in excess of what is required) to the poor. Christians have something similar, which is 10% of their monthly income.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Jakarta's Cool New Cab

I have received an e-mail telling me about a cool new cab with old rates. The company is called transcab, and the special thing about it is the cab has Cable TV for passengers, with various programs to kill their boredom when stuck in Jakarta's notorious hell that is traffic jam.

People who tried it says the cab drivers are friendly and smart, and they know a lot about Jakarta streets and alleyways. The drivers show how proud they are to work in the cab company and it seems the company gives good benefits to its employees (that's a first). One passenger said in hour of her trip inside the cab, talking to the cabbie had almost made her want to apply to work as one.

Besides Cable TV, the cab doesn't have the usual cab meter that can be tampered with. They have new meters that automatically prints receipts at the end of a journey. Something very cool and modern.

Here are pictures of the cab for your viewing pleasure, courtesy of Jakarta Daily Photos and Si Ollie's Flickr, click on picture to enlarge.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Need Blog Whiz Help

I need blogging help.

As some of you might already know, I am new to blogger and real blogging. I mean, I have blogged before, but I never paid attention to people's visits, page rank or who reads my stuff. Now I do.

I have no page rank. A friend told me it might be a canonical URL problem.

I scoured the net in hope of finding a solution to this, all have told me it is simple, all I have to do is access my .htaccess file, put a few lines, upload it and all things will be good, evil will lose, war and world famine will be a thing of the past.

Except, I don't know what .htaccess file is, where I can find it, how to access and put some lines in it and upload it to solve my blog problem.

If anyone, anyone at all, can explain to me how to do this in a very comprehensible step by step way that even a 10 year old girl can understand, I would forever be in gratitude.

ps: I would need a REALLY comprehensible method. I am a woman who bought a hosting account for 10 sites 5 months ago for a high price, and haven't even discovered what a hosting account is. I thought there will be 10 website templates all ready for me - just like blog templates - when I bought it. Not exactly a computer geek here.

Today's Indonesian feel good news

The Jakarta Post reported today Indonesian conservationist receives Whitley Award. Now I don't know exactly what this award is or what good this conservationist did to deserve such award, but reading the article had made me feel better about all the suckiness that has been going on in Indonesia lately.

Denny Kurniawan (28) of the Borneo Conservation Community, Indonesia, has won the prestigious Whitley Awards along with 10 other winners from the Whitley Fund for Nature(WFN), a British charity organization.

According to the WFN, Denny won the award for his outstanding contribution in establishing a network between the local national park and the public.

Denny had worked in the Katingan region of Kalimantan, where the creation of the Sebangau National Park; the world's largest orang utans conservation park set up in 2004, had caused rifts among the locals.

Denny received a cash prize worth 30,000 pound sterling donated by musician Sting and his wife Trudie Styler, plus a long-term support and the opportunity to apply for further funding, currently worth more than 0.4 million pound sterling a year (US$0.8 million).

I read an article a few years back about a brothel in Kalimantan that chains an adult female orangutan and lets male human clients (obviously male orangutans had no money) pay to have sex with her. It is so sad because while people there think she is but a mere animal, orangutans actually can think and feel, in this case, when conservationists found her, she was psychologically shaken because of the rape (not just sex) that had happened to her many times and she was also suffering from several sexually transmitted diseases (STDs).

Another article I read about orangutan abuse was about an infant orangutan kidnapped by the people of a village in Kalimantan. The infant was abused, had his eyes gauged out leaving it blind and it was also shot in close range with pebble shotguns, leaving the pebbles inside its body to cause infection and pain. After, the infant was taken to the jungle and left alone as a warning to the adult orangutans to stop coming in the village to steal food from the people (althought the said people were the ones who invaded their natural habitat in the first place, leaving them food-deprived).

I actually cried reading both articles (couldn't find either as I read them over two years ago) and if this Whitley Award receiving conservationist is doing anything to prevent something like that from ever happening again, I say more power to him and conservationists alike, and I sincerely congratulate him.

In another story, Indonesian highschool students have uncovered a way for styrofoam waste treatment.

Vici Riyani and Adrienne Trinovia Sulistyo, second-year and third-year students at Santa Laurensia senior high school in Tangerang, have found a waste treatment solution for styrofoam.

The young scientists' discovery even brought recognition to the country when they won a silver medal at the 2nd International Environmental Project Olympiad (INEPO Euroasia) held from April 1-6 in Baku, Azerbaijan, beating out 35 other entries.

The students' entry was titled Waste Treatment Using a Chemical Sulfonation*Process and Traditional Treatment with Crude Extract From Sunkist Orange Peel".

"Our experiment started from a concern, because we realize that styrofoam cannot be recycled and if such non-organic waste is ignored, it will contribute to environmental damage," Riyani told The Jakarta Post during an interview at her school Thursday.

Riyani said orange peel extract contains d-limonene, which can be converted into a polymer flocculant and used to break down styrofoam into water. The environmentally friendly process requires no complicated equipment or chemicals.

Adrienne noted that the old treatment method for styrofoam waste was to burn it in an incinerator, but this produced the greenhouse gas carbon dioxide. This also produced carbon monoxide, which is harmful to the human respiratory system.

During their trial experiement, Riyani and Adrienne liquefied orange peels in a blender and then distilled the liquid to collect an extract. They then soaked styrofoam cut into small pieces in the orange peel extract, and stirred the mixture until the styrofoam melted away.

The resulting liquid of orange peel extract and dissolved styrofoam is safe to dispose, because it can be decomposed by microorganisms in the air and soil.

"It's easy to obtain orange peels, which is also garbage. So we treat waste with waste," said Adrienne. The two students also invented another way to destroy styrofoam through a chemical process called sulfonation.

With such inexpensive and efficient solutions, the country, its businesses and its people now have no reason to keep contributing to environmental destruction by throwing out styrofoam waste.

This is a brilliant idea! And the fact that the idea came from two Indonesian teenage girls, not a money hungry conglomerate is just like the cherry on top.

[wishful thinking]
I hope soon someone will come up with some other extract to dissolve and destroy corruption and corruptors.
[/wishful thinking]

These girls should patent their findings and then sell it to money hungry conglomerates.

The last feel good news is about a poll conducted in Yogyakarta - following a similar poll in the US - among 223 teenagers in highschool and college on which types of websites they frequent daily. It turns out porn sites didn't make the top of the list. Most of them visit search engines, social networking sites like friendster and facebook, e-mails and junior high school students like online game sites the most.

I have put this under feel good news because this has made me feel good. it proves how Indonesian children and teenagers are not morally corrupt and dirty minded sex crazed maniacs the government had described them to be. It's obvious the sex crazed are the lawmakers instead. They probably browse porn sites all the time and doing so frequently has caused calluses on their hands and brains. Pumice stones anyone?

Friday, May 23, 2008

The post with no title

At the moment, I have guests from Denmark. My husband's beautiful niece Feniola, her very witty and much entertaining husband Peter and their very cute newborn Jonathan. Due to renovations being done on the first floor of my building (I live on the second floor) with a lot of dust/cement/noise - certainly not good for a baby, they are staying in the Brussels Hilton. Went out for dinner with them last night at the best Tex-Mex here called Pablo's, and took a walk to a chic area called Petit Sablon where we had beer in the midst of very gorgeous people, and by people I mean guys.


Tonight I will be with them again, enjoying several of the 160 free jazz concerts of this weekends Brussels Jazz Marathon. If I remember to take pictures, I will post some in my next post, probably sometime on Sunday. For the Rimaholics (as quoted from yonna), this post will tide you over til Sunday.

Because this post is about many things rolled into one sweet goodness of a post, I have not been able to think of a title for it, and will let it remain title-less.

Recommended reading (or net surfing) of This week - May 23

I found the end of the world to be very funny (thanks to dotsson who is equally funny). When you are in the office with nothing better to do (like me) and are bored stiff but cannot really do anything except pretend to be busy in front of the computer typing important letter (chatting) or doing research on the internet for a client (watching youtube/youporn or entertaining stuff/gossip blogs) then this might be something for you too.

I have found a post in Geekologie of a Completely Inappropriate Austrian Sony PS3 Campaign. It looks NSFW, but when you zoom at the crotch area, it is actually harmless and quite amusing. I don't think it's appropriate at all actually, it's very clever.. and looking at the model, I would like to try thumb wrestling him. (only funny if you click the link.. go on, I know you want to..)

The last one on my list this week is something very informative which I found very helpful and funny at the same time.
100 Most Often Mispronounced Words and Phrases in English.
You should really check it out, some of them are hilarious!

Today's thoughts

On married men who sleeps around with other women


I think they should end up like this



On men who dream of having threesomes or foursomes in a jacuzzi, three pussies up to their game are these lovely ladies



On how to make torture less torturous (it's all in the attitude)



On chicks who can't bear to be alone - sad, but shit happens



On Obama's hunt for a running mate



And finally, on the delicious newly crowned American Idol:
I am so happy he won! I had a feeling he would go far, right from the very first time I saw his audition. This is a video of his rendition of U2's Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For:





So that's all for today, I will be back with other pointless posts on Sunday. Have a good weekend everybody!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Indonesian rich complains of provocative banner. Methinks they need conscience transplant.

According to detiknews (in Bahasa Indonesia), rich Jakartans/Indonesians are complaining about banners all over the city displayed by Pertamina that says "Fuel price subsidy only for the poor. Should I benefit from it?"


The Indonesian state oil company Pertamina posted these banners in Jakarta, and rich Jakartans are complaining about the banners they think is too provocative.

Pertamina argued the banners are displayed to raise awareness among the rich as to the reality behind the subsidy, which is for the poor, and that they are not the intended market for it. The rich are encouraged to buy the normal non-subsidized price fuel.

According to the Director of the Center for Public Policy Study, Sofyano Zakaria, the rich have not stopped filling their cars with subsidized fuel, and are complaining about the banner.

He suggested subsidized fuel to be given to yellow plate number* and motorcycles. He said it will be better that way because luxurious cars will not use yellow plates.
Apparently many rich car owners were offended by the banners they see on their way to their destinations.

[sarcasm ridden idiot mumblings]

Oh.. those poor rich people, it must be tough to sit in their air-conditioned chauffered-driven luxury cars. Looking out their tinted windows and seeing the 'provocative' banners must have hurt their sensitive feelings. Bad Pertamina, bad, bad company! They must be afraid the sweaty/smelly/dirty poor Indonesians on the bus, motorcycles, bajaj, mikrolet, and cab/public transportation drivers will come up and scratch their beautiful shiny cars out of 'provoked' frustration.


I feel you rich Indonesians, I too, am horrified at even the thought of those poor ugly people touching you! No, I don't even want them to LOOK at you! How dare they! They think you are rich therefore you must cease to buy cheap fuel, or better yet share your hard earned corruption money? Why, those ungrateful unfortunate poors being all sweaty and ugly and all! They should be grateful you rich people let them live, right? They should all just die from hunger** rather than bother the rich Indonesians!
[/sarcasm ridden idiot mumblings]

I personally think the fuel price hike is a good thing for the people. If the government is smart (and has some sort of compassion for the poor) they could use the money to feed the poor, and also perhaps to cheapen education and healthcare. But that's another story altogether.

In any case, what Sofyan said about only yellow plate numbers and motorcycles*** should be subsidized makes a lot of sense. Apart from uncle Scrooge, I think most rich Indonesians will rather be caught dead than having cars with yellow plate numbers (except if he owns a taxi fleet). That would probably be a good solution, maybe the subsidy can also apply for those with very old cars - not antique jaguars or mercedeses, but like a corrosion ridden '78 toyota - and for the non-magician**** Indonesian non-luxury car owners earning below Rp 2 or 3 million. But this last part is a BIG maybe.

Rich Indonesians should really count their blessings and start contributing more to the country. What's a few thousand rupiahs more per liter of fuel compared to their daily millions of rupiahs hotel/restaurant breakfasts/brunches/lunches/dinners? The fuel price in Indonesia is already very cheap, even without subsidy. At the moment the price of normal fuel is Rp 4500 (USD 0.5) per litre and in the government is planning to raise it to Rp 6000 (USD 0.6) per litre. Now let's compare that to prices in the EU of Euro 1.5 per litre (yet Americans are complaining about their fuel price of USD 3.8 per gallon, 1 gallon = 3.8 litre. Shit, if fuel costs that low here, I would go everywhere with my car)

I think the Pertamina banners to raise their awareness is a futile effort, what rich Indonesians need now more than ever is a conscience transplant.

* In Indonesia, private owned cars have black plate numbers, government owned cars have red plate numbers, new cars have white plate numbers (methinks) and public transportation vehicles have yellow plate numbers.
** I am well aware of the redundancy, as the poor people are already dying of hunger.
*** non-Harley Davidson motorcycles or anything more expensive than Rp 25 million - or whatever the price for a Honda scooter is nowadays.
**** Indonesia is the home to the largest population of Magicians in the world. World known fact. Magicians in Indonesia are very powerful, they are able to buy big mansions and luxury cars, go vacationing around Europe or the US and are always designer brand-clad while their actual monthly salary are a measly few million Rupiahs (USD 1 = Rp 9000). These magicians are most likely government officials.
***** Yes, I love asterisks.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Dear Diary : Confessions of a Recovering Shopaholic

Since my incredible weight gain, I have not been able to wear last year's summer sandals, which is why I have been searching for the right sized sandals I can trot around in this summer. I have been looking for sandals since a few weeks ago which is why when I was in Zoetermeer - NL on the 1st of May, I went to the shopping street.


I ended up not finding any, but took pictures of the shopping area because the buildings were interesting. Dutch and Belgian (Brussels) shopping areas are very different. The Netherlands is quite modern when it comes to their architecture, even in small towns like Zoetermeer. You can see how modern the shopping area is, look at building that looks like an alien UFO mothership. Ugly, but very modern.


I live in one of the shopping areas of our municipality, which is Woluwe St. Pierre. As luck would have it, we have a braderie this weekend in our neighborhood. In case some of you were wondering what a braderie is, it means 'neighborhood sale'. Usually between the two annual sales in January and July, there are braderies all over Brussels. I like these neighborhood sales because sometimes the prices are rounded down to a neat Euro 5-10-15-20. Being the recovering shopaholic that I am, that kind of numbers aren't intimidating, and I can stay assured my credit card bills will not be humongous. Of course in stores with nothing under Euro 100, a rounded Euro 50 or 75 is considered cheap, but I would not even set one foot at the door of those kinds of shops.


Saturday morning I woke up at 8.30, had breakfast then showered. I was ready by 10.30 when I heard people's voices from outside. It looks like all the shops are open, and people are starting to come and see what kinds of stuff they can get for cheap. So I opened my living room window and looked to the left.



Ah, the stores are open! And I can see my favorite shoe store is open with all their sale items under the tent. I knew I had to cross my fingers before I went downstairs to hope to get a pair of sandals that are cheap and fit my huge feet. If possible, cheaper ones. I do not want to end up buying 150 euro sandals, that's just ridiculous (did that last summer, still hated myself for it)



After thinking that, I looked to the right and saw nothing interesting. It looked empty and dull, or maybe not all the stores are open yet, I'll just have to wait and see. By this time, I was all excited to see what's out there, so I went down and took a peek in the shoe store, didn't try anything on yet, because I wanted to save the best for last, plus I had to go to the ATM and get some cash.


I went around and airily went through all the stuff the other stores had. Some had really nice stuff but still much too expensive. My area is quite an expensive area, full of rich old pensioners, which is why the shops are rather pricey. But then I saw vue sur mer, one of my favorite clothing stores. I love their stuff because the materials of their clothes are so nice and smooth, and they have my current size. My heart was beating so fast, because I see they have items for sale.


I went to the ATM machine, got some money, tried to not pass by vue sur mer because I know how dangerous it would be. But no success, it was as if my feet had brains of its own. I walked towards the store, stopped in front of it, silently tried to talk myself out of going in there, but it was as if aliens took over my body and made me go in the store. I knew it was bad the minute I laid my eyes on their stuff for sale (keep in mind, I just bought Euro 280 worth of new clothes last week, after I dropped off mr. husband at the airport, I knew I shouldn't buy more, but....) and I was right to be afraid, because all hell broke loose, there were stuff I couldn't get my hands off, and without thinking (and trying them on) I paid for FOUR unnecessary items, just because they were 20 euros a pop and looked very cute, or so I hoped.


I forgot all about the reason why I went down to the shops in the first place, and went back to my apartment to try the stuff on. Luckily, three fit me like a charm, the other was a bit too tight but I figured I'm trying to lose weight, so it'll fit in a few weeks, a month tops. Anyway, because it was on sale, I couldn't change it for another size, and I didn't really care, all I knew was it felt good to have new stuff, and although I felt a pang of regret, I was - like everytime I went shopping - feeling really good.


I got on the internet, checked my e-mails and realised it was almost 1 pm. I had a call from Stephanie who wanted to come to my neighborhood sale. She asked if I would meet her for lunch, I said yes and 20 minutes later went down to Le Milord cafe to meet her. We had lunch and talked, and before we both knew it, it was already 4 o'clock. I suddenly remembered about the sandals, and Steph told me she could use a new pair as well. We both went to the shoe store and looked around. All the small sizes were gone, bad news for her, not so bad for me. My feet are, let's just say, bigger than the average girls. I'm 170 cm, and God must have thought it would be amusing to give me really big bones (I swear, I have really big bones) and feet. But anyway, with my posture, it would be weird if my feet were a size 37, and it didn't really matter today because I was in luck! I found, wait for it, 3 pairs of sandals I liked which fit me perfectly!



Yes, the same thing that happened in the vue sur mer store happened here as well. I bought them all.


I know I was gonna regret this even more than the tops because it cost almost double than the tops, but I couldn't help feeling good about finding such a treasure.


THREE pairs of sandals my size! Do you know how hard I have been looking for them? VERY hard, and I have not been successful, until now.


The shopaholic seemed to have struck back, with a vengeance this time. Felt real good, but also shame because I couldn't control myself. I finally confessed to Mr. Husband and the good man that he is, he was okay with it. But why do I still feel shame and regret? Now, if I bought some more things next weekend, I'm sure it would make me feel better. . .

Living in Beautiful Brussels

Brussels is the city I used to hate but now have come to really love. When I first got here I hated it because of its tranquility and 'old fashion-ness'. It wasn't really fair because I constantly compared it to New York City and Jakarta, two cities where I lived before, cities of which are abundant with night life and modern fun. Plus at the time, I was still in my mid-20s and wanted metropolitan fun all the time. After a few years, having grown more mature and calmed down a bit, I have come to really appreciate this lovely city. I have been to most corners of the city, many times, but I never get tired of it.


Shopping
Compared to shopping areas in the Netherlands, where most of the shopping districts are all modern, or Germany with its malls, Brussels is something totally different. It has a very cool vibe, and a lot of personality. There are no malls here, only maybe three or four shopping centers (small ones, equivalent to the smaller plazas in Jakarta, not big malls) You can see what it's like to shop in Brussels from the pictures shown here (click photo to enlarge picture and captions)



Old Buildings and Churches
Belgium, at least the French Speaking parts and Brussels, which I am writing about today, are quite old fashioned. It embraces old architecture and old buildings which is why I fell in love with it in the first place. I love old buildings, and although it doesn't have as much as Paris, Brussels have a certain charm that has made me fall in love over and over again each time I go sight-seeing in the city.

I haven't seen much modern architectural designs in Brussels apart from the European Commission building (which scarily resembles an upside down cross - what the Christian conspiracy theorists calls 'the anti Christ Building' - the headquarters of all evil, unity of a number of evil Satan worshiping nations, just as - what they claim - the bible had prophesied) - click photo to enlarge picture and captions

Well, I can't say much for the Satan worshiping nations (because it's top secret and I'd have to kill you if I tell you), but the building does kinda look like an upside down cross, doesn't it?

But, au contraire to the beliefs about being the epicenter of evil, Brussels actually has some of the most beautiful churches in Europe. Here are several well known Brussels churches, although there are so many others too (click photo to enlarge picture and captions)


We do have several landmarks in Brussels besides the European Commission "Berlaymont" Building. These are some of the most beautiful old buildings that has also become landmarks in Brussels (click photo to enlarge picture and captions)


Art Nouveau Buildings
Some of the most beautiful art nouveau buildings are located in Brussels, which is not surprising, considering the Father of Art Nouveau Architecture and Design, Victor Horta was a Brussels native. (click photo to enlarge picture and captions)


Landmarks
Besides old building landmarks, Brussels has other kinds of landmarks, unconventional ones, with interesting histories behind it. The most famous one is the Manneken Pis, a boy who people said peed on a fuse of a bomb an attack on Brussels, thus saving Brussels from the attack. The peeing boy was immortalized into a cute little statue you can see on the third picture below. The second picture is a building called the Atomium, which was initially intended to remain for six months in the World Fair of 1958, but then became a symbol for not only the World Fair, but of modern architecture and Brussels. The monument stayed the same for almost 50 years, undergone a renovation in 2004 (replacement of the metal panels on the atoms, the old panels being auctioned off) and finished last year. (click photo to enlarge picture and captions)


Café and Restaurant Culture
Brussels people, or Bruxelloises, love to sit in cafés and drink coffee or beer. Besides some of the finest and most delicious restaurants in Western Europe, Brussels is also famous for Seafood - especially Mussels. Brussels has many cozy restaurants, cafés and bars that are usually filled with people, especially during summer. (click photo to enlarge picture and captions)


Cartoons
Let's not forget the cartoons in Brussels. Brussels is truly a cartoon city, with many buildings painted with cartoon murals. I think it's a very cool thing, certainly gives a unique edge to the city, and very good for tourists who love to take pictures of themselves and the cartoon/comic charactors. (click photo to enlarge picture and captions)


That is about it for this edition of Beautiful Brussels, there are other interesting stuff about Brussel I will share with you again next time. A bientot! Tot ziens!

*credits: Most of the photos were found on the internet (dansaertstraat and e3000 on flickr, galenfrysinger, tom galvin, brusselsdailyphoto, erasmuspc, trabel, milnerscom's blog, brussels pictures and many more. Please contact me with your details/website if you see your photo here, so I can mention your name or site in the credits as well)

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Zaman Emas Indonesia

Suatu tulisan yang saya kira sangatlah bagus dan menarik, mungkin bisa jadi renungan bagi seluruh warga Indonesia. Bagaimana menurut anda?

Selamat menikmati!



Zaman Emas Indonesia

Kompas, Sabtu, 12 April 2008 | 00:56 WIB, Oleh Jakob Sumardjo.


Kapan waktunya dan siapa presidennya, belum diketahui. Namun, keberadaannya jelas karena logikanya juga jelas, yaitu potensi alamnya yang luar biasa, dan jumlah penduduknya yang begini besar tak mungkin goblok semua.

Saat itu presidennya tegas dan keras, tidak takut mati dan tidak takut kehilangan pendukungnya. Hatinya baik, tidak ada pikiran uang sama sekali karena sejak bayi sudah kaya-raya. Ketegasannya mendapat dukungan seluruh rakyat miskin di Indonesia, yaitu dalam melenyapkan korupsi, kejahatan dasar yang membuat negara ini hampir saja pecah belah.

Koruptor yang diketahui menilep uang negara satu miliar ke atas langsung dihukum mati karena yang antre untuk diadili begitu panjang. Koruptor di atas setengah miliar dipotong tangannya dan dipenjara seumur hidup. Yang korup seratus juta ke bawah dihukum seumur hidup. Khusus perkara korupsi tidak ada naik banding menurut hukum negara yang disetujui DPR, yang anggota-anggotanya cerdas, baik hati, tak banyak bicara, tetapi lebih banyak berpikir.

Dalam waktu satu tahun pertama pemerintahannya, nafsu orang yang ingin korup langsung lenyap. Hampir tiap hari ada koruptor dihukum mati, sampai banyak yang tak sempat disiarkan media. Keluarga koruptor yang dihukum mati, saat itu, tak mau mengubur sendiri, takut kerandanya ditimpuki rakyat miskin yang marah.

Demi perikemanusiaan

Pers dalam dan luar negeri cerewet menantang pemberantasan korupsi yang mereka nilai biadab dan melanggar hak asasi manusia ini. Namun, presiden kita memang orang berani. "Saya tidak takut masuk neraka," katanya kepada para juru kritik. "Dalam situasi luar biasa, diperlukan tindakan luar biasa," tambah wakil presidennya yang sama-sama batu karangnya.

Dalam waktu dua tahun pertama masa kepresidenannya, tak seorang pegawai negeri pun berani mangkir kerja tanpa surat dokter negeri. Orang berseragam pegawai negeri tak ada di jalanan, apalagi mal. Merokok pun tak berani, kecuali saat istirahat. Tiba-tiba seluruh pegawai negeri sibuk bekerja karena tugasnya tak habis-habis, semua melalui prosedur yang semestinya. Orang yang suka menyogok pegawai pun tak berkutik akibat semua pegawai negeri tak butuh sogokan, takut dipecat hari itu juga.

Para polisi di jalan raya dan di tempat lain tak lagi membawa pistol. Mereka hanya dibekali pentungan karet. Semua pengguna jalan tertib, antrean lama tak mengapa, karena tilang langsung dengan denda tinggi amat menakutkan. Para pengguna jalan ini patuh membayar denda tinggi karena yakin, uang denda benar-benar masuk kas negara.

Meski polisi tidak bersenjata, nyali para penjahat juga kecut karena yang diketahui membunuh korban langsung dihukum mati. Utang nyawa bayar nyawa, itulah semboyan di pojok-pojok toko. Para pemerkosa dihukum seumur hidup. Dua kali memerkosa dihukum mati. Di mana sila Perikemanusiaan dalam Pancasila? Jawab presiden, "Itu semua dilakukan demi perikemanusiaan. Bukan perikejahatan!"

Setelah pemberantasan biang kekacauan, berangsur-angsur negara Indonesia membutuhkan tambahan pegawai. Karena tak ada lagi budaya sogok, hanya mereka yang benar-benar mampu di bidangnya dapat diterima. Kerja pembangunan bisa dilaksanakan. Tidak ada rencana pembangunan yang tak berhasil karena semua dana utuh sampai selesai. Jalan-jalan mulus. Kemacetan tak ada lagi akibat pembangunan jalan layang bagai kabel listrik di kota-kota besar. Dan subway dibangun di mana-mana.

Ibu kota negara dipindah ke Kalimantan, di tengah-tengah kepulauan Indonesia. Itulah Washington Indonesia. Jakarta adalah New York-nya Indonesia. Bandara seperti Soekarno-Hatta dibangun di 20 kota besar Indonesia. Semua berasal dari uang negara yang 100 persen selamat. Coba tahun 1970-an sudah begini, Indonesia akan disebut macan Asia nomor dua setelah Jepang.

Syarat kesuburan

Pada pemerintahan kedua, turis Indonesia ditunggu-tunggu di negara-negara tetangga. TKI dan TKW telah lenyap sejak pemerintahan pertama hampir berakhir. Bahkan, TKW lain bangsa masuk Indonesia.

Turisme bukan lagi slogan. Menteri Pariwisata paling sibuk bekerja. Pada malam hari, lampu kantor ini tak pernah padam. Devisa sektor ini melebihi pendapatan pajak, pertambangan, pertanian, kehutanan. Para turis dimanja karena aman, transpor tepat waktu, dan 'Bali-Bali' baru bertebaran di Indonesia.

Nilai mata uang rupiah yang puluhan tahun bikin malu bangsa (negara sama sekali tak malu) diturunkan menjadi satu dollar AS setara satu rupiah RI. Bayangkan kalau kekayaan negara dihitung dalam nilai mata uang lama akan membingungkan kepala akibat triliun dari triliun dan triliun rupiah.. Harga mobil paling mewah cuma Rp 200.000. Gaji pegawai negeri paling top Rp 70.000. Recehan satu sen ada di kantong tiap warga negara.

Setelah pemerintahannya yang kedua berakhir, presiden dan wakil presiden kita pensiun. Meski rakyat tetap ingin memilihnya, keduanya tetap menolak karena tak sesuai dengan undang-undang. Penggantinya tidak sehebat presiden kita itu, tetapi tak apa sebab seluruh bangsa telah memasuki budaya baru, yaitu budaya bersih. Orang takut, namanya masuk koran meski cuma nyopet jam tangan.

Impian tata temtrem kerta raharja, adil makmur ternyata bukan omong kosong dongeng anak-anak. Kuncinya hanya satu, tembak mati para maling negara, entah jemaah maupun perorangan. Ibu Pertiwi akan bersimbah darah para penjarah, tetapi itulah syarat kesuburan.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

How to Catch Mr. Bule Part Deux

*note: this was written under very judgmental mood, and I was bored to death waiting for the clock to turn five so I can go the bloody well home.

I have written about my thoughts of a book, written by Ms. Erlinawati, titled 'How to Catch Mr. Bule". I haven't read the book, but from what I have read here, here and here, I managed to come up with this.

Mind you, I have no problem with women marrying whatever color men, as long as she is happy and loved. But I still stand by statement that there are good and bad men of every color (although I have been looking for one in fuchsia and violet, to no avail).

Today, I was - as usual - monkeying around in this forum, when I found this site called 'An Asian Wife'. Just before I clicked on it to see what it was all about, I thought to myself, I'm an Asian - proud to be one - wife too! This site might be a blog of an Asian wife, sharing tips and tricks or recipes, maybe?

(I know I will be bashed for writing this, but...)

Little did I know, it was nothing like I have imagined it to be. My initial response was a judgmental "Euuww" Wow! I kept on reading, and reading and reading. Then I found out that this is a site of two people who met and found love together, who want to share their happiness and help other pathetic old men vibrant men looking for Asian love.

Their love story was a classic, methinks. Early twenty year old Asian girl meets .. err.. mature yet young at heart 70 something white guy, falls in love, white guy marries her and they live happily ever after.

In the site, they share stories of his journey to find Asian love, and then pictures of her transformation during their marriage, also don't forget to read the reasons he loves her, an excerpt of which you can find below:


- Whenever we leave someone's home, Yuyun precedes me and turns my sandals facing outwards so I don't have to bend down and do it.
- When we go shopping, she insists on carrying all the packages. At home, if I try to get a glass of water or make some tea, she insists that SHE does it for me.
- We never pass each other without hugging and kissing.
- After three years I find her just as exciting as the first day we met. She is such a caring person that she will always buy and prepare the food that I like before she gets what she wants.
- If I cough or sneeze during the night, she will wake up and make sure that I am alright.
There you go, five legitimate reasons for a man to love a woman, right? A wife who can still bend over and put your sandals on, a wife who will carry all your groceries for you, a wife who still hugs and kisses you every time you pass her by (really? I would just flick mr. husband's ears if he does it too often.. it's so suffocating!), a wife who prepares food you like (that she doesn't), a wife who tolerates your old geezerish coughs and sneezes at night. Perfect wife specimen she is. Had I known wives like her exist, I would opt for one, instead of a husband. (sorry hubby, you do get on my nerves sometime, but I love you anyway!)

But if they can sell find Asian girls to old cheese men who buys wives through them becomes members of their lovely dating service, thus finding all of them happiness, then I think it's all that matters.

I will end this entry with the thought of love. Some quotes on love:

Love is grand; divorce is a hundred grand -- Anonymous

To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness. I hope you're getting this down.
-- Woody Allen

You know it's love when you want to keep holding hands even after you're sweaty.
-- Anonymous

The four most important words in any marriage..."I'll do the dishes."
-- Anonymous

Man kills daughter for loving an infidel soldier

Catchy title, right?

Well, it's lunch time, and here I was sitting nicely in front of my loyal and trusted computer in my office - eating my yogurt - when I read this disgusting display of male chauvinism with a dash of self-righteousness and a sprinkle of ignorance infused with blind faith, stupidity and evil.

I immediately choked on my yogurt and spilled some on to my shirt, so again, I have yogurt stains on the boob area of my shirt. Damn it, I look like a lactating woman.

But 1000 trillions of damn its was my reaction after reading the news article. Here are excerpts:
For Abdel-Qader Ali there is only one regret: that he did not kill his daughter at birth. 'If I had realised then what she would become, I would have killed her the instant her mother delivered her,' he said with no trace of remorse.

Two weeks after The Observer revealed the shocking story of Rand Abdel-Qader, 17, murdered because of her infatuation with a British soldier in Basra, southern Iraq, her father is defiant. Sitting in the front garden of his well-kept home in the city's Al-Fursi district, he remains a free man, despite having stamped on, suffocated and then stabbed his student daughter to death.

Abdel-Qader, 46, a government employee, was initially arrested but released after two hours. Astonishingly, he said, police congratulated him on what he had done. 'They are men and know what honour is,' he said.

She died a virgin, according to her closest friend Zeinab. Indeed, her 'relationship' with Paul, which began when she worked as a volunteer helping displaced families and he was distributing water, appears to have consisted of snatched conversations over less than four months. But the young, impressionable Rand fell in love with him, confiding her feelings and daydreams to Zeinab, 19.

It was her first youthful infatuation and it would be her last. She died on 16 March after her father discovered she had been seen in public talking to Paul, considered to be the enemy, the invader and a Christian. Though her horrified mother, Leila Hussein, called Rand's two brothers, Hassan, 23, and Haydar, 21, to restrain Abdel-Qader as he choked her with his foot on her throat, they joined in. Her shrouded corpse was then tossed into a makeshift grave without ceremony as her uncles spat on it in disgust.

'Death was the least she deserved,' said Abdel-Qader. 'I don't regret it. I had the support of all my friends who are fathers, like me, and know what she did was unacceptable to any Muslim that honours his religion,' he said.

She died a virgin, killed only because she talked to a guy and harbored some secret crush.

I know I'm supposed to love all creations of God, restrain from hating another and not take revenge on people who hath done me wrong, but at this moment, I really want to choke this guy, the poor girl's brothers, her uncles and the entire Iraqi police, stamp on them and stab them to death.

Just to let them know what it feels like to die of an honour killing.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Sexual harassment on the street

I did not drive to work today because the weather was very nice. This morning I took the metro (subway) to Montgomery station and hopped on a tram to the office.

I was in my usual office get-up, boring linen pants, boring cotton top, boring black leather moccasins, and my extremely boring working bag. I had my hair down, no make-up and I had my glasses on. In short, I looked like a normal boring office worker with nothing but normalcy oozing from every pore of my being. Plus, I have gained so much weight I doubt without baring a little flesh, I will appeal to anyone but a butcher (I have lotsa meat) or a weight loss expert in need of a subject to try his 'new and improved' diet pills.

I was wrong.

My apartment lies at one end of the 1b metro line, so when I get on, there usually aren't that many people in it. I got on the metro this morning at 8, there were several students and some office people. Two stops later a guy comes in, looks at me, winks and sits in front of me. I ignored him and kept reading a newspaper I brought with me. Then he starts talking. Yes, to me.

"Comment cava Mademoiselle?" (translation: are you ok miss?) He asks. I thought to myself, "do I look like I was hurt? or sad? or upset? Of course I was ok" and I kept on ignoring him.
He asks me again, "Comment vous vous appelez?" (tr: What is your name?) then I looked up and looked at him. I think he was Moroccan, and because I know most of them here don't speak English, I decided to speak back in English. I said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak French. Thanks for talking, but as you can see I am reading this paper and I would appreciate it if you stop talking to me." Then I got up and moved to another seat, while asking permission to an old lady to sit next to her, in - wait for it - French, LOUDLY.

That was this morning.

On my way back from work, the boring look I had this morning had increased a few notches because by this time, I was tired, sleepy and looked a bit of a mess with my unruly hair shapeless beyond recognition (note to self: need to get a haircut), plus, my shirt had yogurt stains (I spilled some yogurt on my shirt as a result of attempting to be a superwoman - typing with my right hand and eating yoghurt with my left).

I did not take the same tram and metro as I did this morning. I thought the day was too lovely to get on a metro (it goes underground), so I took the tram to Hermann-Debroux and stopped by carrefour to get some stuff, and then took the bus for the remainder of the journey. I got off around 3 kms from my place and decided to walk home (I needed the exercise anyway). As I was walking home, I walked past two tweens (they must be around 20 somethings, not older than 23/24) who were sitting on the side of the street while drinking beer. One of them said some stuff to me in Spanish. I didn't really get what he said, (my Spanish is really awful) so I just walked past them. When I did, they cat-called me in French and threw in a whistle or five. I thought that it was rude but didn't really pay too much attention to them.

Even though most of the time I ignore people cat calling, whistling and coming on to me, I can't help but wonder why some men do that. Do they not know most women hate being treated like a sex object? I personally don't find things like that appealing. When a man does something like that, instead of flattery I feel like a huge piece of Argentinian beef at an auction (I've been to a meat auction and I think if meat have feelings, that's what they will feel like when people bids on them).

When I got home, I went online (again) and read the news on CNN. Funny enough, I found an article titled 'Cat-calling. Creepy or Compliment' (Me and CNN on the same wavelength! How weird is that? Another proof of my awesomeness). The article writes about women who are victims of cat-calling, or sexual harassment on the street and about those who are biting back - via the internet. Yes, the internet is a wonderful, WONDERFUL thing.
There is also a blog called Holla Back New York City mentioned in the article. The blog description of which is as follows:
Holla Back NYC empowers New Yorkers to Holla Back at street harassers. Whether you're commuting, lunching, partying, dancing, walking, chilling, drinking, or sunning, you have the right to feel safe, confident, and sexy, without being the object of some turd's fantasy. So stop walkin' on and Holla Back: Send us pics of street harassers!
Well I say, more power to us girls!

Check out the blog, it has many, many pictures of sick pervs, even a public masturbator who is caught 'again' and his picture. This inspires me to do the same. If I ever come across pervs chatting me up and cat-calling me, I would have to remember to take a picture of them with my camera phone and post it here, under heading of 'Rima's pervy admirers'.

Recommended Reading of the Week - May 14

I stumbled upon this blog, which apparently belongs to a horny bitch in Singapore. It's a funny, sassy and witty blog with entries about her daily life, or as she calls it, confessions There are many interesting stories there, one I found particularly intriguing was the mystery of the missing mangoes, (you should check that out). Of course, there is something for the guys too. Check out Sex Education, it's something a really horny bitch would write.

The next site on the recommended reading of the week list is called The Church of Lost Souls, which is owned by a I knew I would love it the minute I read the blog's warning sign. It says:
Good, all the things mama and daddy used to tell me not to read/hear/do. I love it.
There are good reading references like this, there are comics, quotes of the day, and even a post only for Mother's Day congratulations! You can see how sensitive and down to earth the blog owner is.

Last but not least, a blog owned by a friend of my blog-buddy Therry, called Universal Crap. This blog is quite addictive, I find myself going there over and over again. She has got a variety of topics, from gaydars to how mullets suck. From (too much) useless information to a post about her poor pussy.

Good stuff, methinks.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Geek Hallucination, Funny Names, Condolences and Snow Dicks

As Treespotter mentioned in his blog, I am a hot geek on computer all the time. The 'hot geek' part of which I took as a compliment, but the 'all the time' part of which made me feel a bit like a pathetic loser. But it is true, I am on all the time, well, most time anyway.

Being online a lot has lately made me hallucinate a bit. For example, when I see food, it may appear like so


When I go shopping, the shopping bags sometime look like this

When I am typing and want to snack on something but too lazy to get my ass off my chair and get something to munch on, the keyboard will slowly turn to this


And then because my back aches from all the time I spend in front of a computer, I often long for an ergonomic computer table suitable for me just like this


When I type, I don't look at the keyboard anymore because I remember every single thing on the keyboard. My brother says when I get a new computer, I should probably get a keyboard like this


So that was all about my computer habits, hallucinations and my current mental state.

Before he went away, Mr. Husband told me he was concerned this



would happen to him when he comes home. I thought it was sweet of him and i told him he better keep his dick in a freezer even if it turns to this

because if i catch him using it for other uses than peeing, I would not hesitate to turn it into this


On a lighter subject, I was browsing GJ's blog and found a post in which he discussed appropriate names. Some of the names he had there were: Iva Lowcock and Ben Dover which I found very amusing. I replied to his post and gave him some of my favorites which were Holden McGroin, Dick Craven, Anna Recksiek, Rob Banks, Sue Flay and X Benedicts.

Then I went online and found several other appropriately funny names (of real people) such as:
Willie Stroker, Winsom Cash, Owen Cash, Woody Forrest, Willie B. Hardigan (hard again huh?), Warren Peace, Seymour Wiener (should be a urologist or prostitute), Richard Chopp (real Urologist in Austin, TX, does vasectomies), Mister Bates, Mike Rotch, Mike Hunt, Les Payne (should be an anesthesiologist), Kenya Dewit (Can ya?), Kerry Oki, Jenny Tull, Ivana Mandic (I want one to), Harry Balls, Eric Shinn, Eaton Wright and Liv Good (yep.. that's what you get when you eat right), Harry Beaver, Dick Finder (real name of a urologist), Craven Moorehead (no comment), Chris P. Bacon, Anna Sasin and Addam Zappel. Yep funny stuff. Thank God I have a normal name.

Last but not least - and no funny matter, my condolences to Rob and wife, for the passing of their dog, Unyil, may it rest in peace. I hope you catch the evil person who poisoned Unyil (if indeed it died of poison).

Dear Diary: Can't wait for him to get back

This week went faster than usual, which is alarming because I feel the usual already goes too fast. I wish a day consists of 36 hours, or 48, just so I can do all my shit in a day and still have the time to relax and unwind. Now all I have at the end of a day are back aches and tired feet, although I feel better everytime I look in a mirror (loving one's self too much is not a crime).

As some of you might already know, mr. husband is away to Indonesia for a month. This week was a bit crazy for me because I had to spend every precious minute shopping for gifts for mr. husband to take back to our families. For those living overseas, it's a well-known (and expected) Indonesian custom that you bring gifts when you come for a visit. So I bought chocolates, waffles and perfumes, a SHITLOAD of 'em. We had to divide them between both his and my family, only my family gets more, because I say so (Which is why I told him to go to Pondok Indah and drop off all the stuff for my family before he goes to his) and because I only have my parents and one brother there, while he has tons of family.

Anyways, I was shopping for stuff since two Saturdays ago but had not completed all the requests from Jakarta. On Monday after work I continued my shopping when my phone rang and Ivan (our manager/music partner/bandmate) called to tell me not only did our band was chosen to attend a workshop with the American singer Elliott Murphy on Wednesday, we were also going to open for his concert in Ancienne Belgique (one of the most respected concert venues here). I was ecstatic! Then I panicked. I had no time left to shop (shops here close everyday at 6.30 pm which is lame) and on top of that, I had to go to a beauty salon on Tuesday after work, for the gig on Wednesday. That left me Thursday and Friday to shop because mr. husband was leaving on Saturday.

Come Wednesday, the workshop went great. I had to go home and change for the gig, I thought I looked great. I had to take the metro back because the gig was downtown and I didn't want to drive there, it's hell to find a parking lot downtown. Imagine me in my full get-up, on the metro with everyone else who looked their usual selves coming home from work. Not only I was over dressed, I had a face covered in 'stage' make up. Several guys flirted with me and as usual I ignored them. A 16 or maybe 17 year old came on to me and told me how sexy I was (like I didn't already know) I was disgusted and shooed him away. Ivan laughed at my expression when I told him about it.

I arrived, we opened for Elliott, and it was awesome to feel the energy of the audience, all my aches and depletion just went away afterwards. Elliott commented on 'how great I looked', which was a given, nonetheless, felt good to hear (When you've been together with someone seven years, married for five, you don't hear words like that very often). Went home, told mr. husband all about it, and slept in the heat (it's starting to get bloody hot here).

Thursday and Friday went like a breeze. All shopping was done, so was all the packing. Miraculously, the suitcase was not over weight, which made me happy.

We got up very early Saturday morning, had breakfast, went back to bed and cuddled a bit. I felt a bit sad and missed him already. One whole month without his warm body beside me in bed could mean two things: a. one whole month of good night's sleep without interruptions, b. one whole month of tossing 'n turning and no sleep without his arms around me. I knew the latter was more likely to happen.

I drove him to the airport, went with him to check his luggage in, had coffee then walked with him to the passport check point. He kissed me and said, "be good and take care of yourself," I said, "you be good and have me in your mind always." He walked and waved at me, I walked away without turning back, kept saying to myself, "a month is not a long time, it will pass by quickly."

Very emotional I was, maybe I have Pre and Post Menstrual Syndrome as well which will be my excuse when he comes back and found out I went shopping for clothes after I dropped him off at the airport. Spent EUR 280 and have to return some of the stuff I bought because I didn't try them on, hence the wrong sizes.

I spent Sunday at home, blogging and catching up on my series. The weather was slightly hot but great (it had been sunny for the past week and a half, between 10 and 28 degrees). Cannot really complain about that.

It is now Monday morning 11.12 am, the weather is still great, it's a public holiday (white monday) and I have not decided yet what I wanted to do. Maybe some laundry and a walk in a nearby park. No shops are open, so shopping is not an option.

Can't wait for him to get back.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Is Indonesia/Bali This Bad?

Foreigners living in Indonesia, Foreigners who frequent Indonesia, Indonesians who has the knowledge, please enlighten me.

I have encountered a .org site (Bali Broadcasting Service) which claims their mission is to:
fill the void of published truth, comment and analysis regarding the problems experienced by some, perhaps many visitors to and residents of Bali. We believe this void comes from;
a) A proliferation of sales orientated web sites for Bali which, of course, say that Bali is a safe paradise, irrespective of the truth. This large number of often same content by the same owner sales motivated web sites has been allowed to drown out informational sites on the Internet.
b) The false claims put out by other sales motivated Bali ezine services.

and I have found some very disturbing things in it. It urges tourists and investors to boycott Bali/Indonesia, in which post it claims:
Indonesia including Bali has a culture of child rape and abuse, such as children being sold into prostitution. Foreign families have had their male and female babies raped or otherwise sexually abused while left in the care of hotel workers, including the crèches of luxury hotels. One case involved a 3 year old foreign girl being raped while in a crèche of a luxury hotel in Nusa Dua and going home to Australia with gonorrhea (the male hotel staff member rapist likely used prostitutes).
It even suggests the Indonesian Corruption Commission (KPK - Komisi Pemberantasan Korupsi) as an incredible fraud, here and here.

My question is, does the BBS stand for Bali Broadcasting Service or Bunch of BullShit?

Indonesian Lawmaker's House Robbed

I woke up this morning feeling semi-refreshed from my hectic week (which I will share with you in another post) and went straight to the computer to browse news from my beloved country.

I stopped when I read this on the Jakarta Post site:

Lawmaker's House Robben in Costume

JAKARTA: The South Jakarta police reported Friday that two robbers took US$100,000 and some jewelry from the home of House of Representatives member Hakim Sorimuda Pohan.

Police told Detik.com that the thieves had pretended to be furniture servicemen to enter the house. After stealing the money and jewelry, one man fled through the window, while the other one left the house after saying goodbye to the housekeeper.

The housekeeper was taken to the police station for questioning.

Hakim's house is located on Jl. Pejaten Barat IV No. 4C in Pasar Minggu district, South Jakarta, where his family have lived for two months. --JP

Then I went to detik where I have found more on this robbery here, here and here. I am sorry all the articles are in Indonesian, but basically the first reported of USD 100k (along with jewelry) robbed from the house. The second one about the domestic helpers interviewed by the police (in some robbery cases, it has been found that the robbery is a collaboration between the robbers and the domestic helpers) but the last article is one I found most entertaining because it is of an interview with the house owners who says they do not have USD 100k in the house, at most it was several million Rupiahs (1 USD = Rp 9000).

I know how corrupt Indonesian lawmakers (DPR members) are, and I guess, after reporting the real sum missing they must have had second thoughts and reported a much less sum (for fear the corruption court will be on to them? perhaps). The USD 100k was stolen money to begin with, so I guess they got what they deserved. Karma's a bitch.

In other news: A riau regent is accused of stealing 1.2 trillion rupiahs (USD 130 million) from the government in a graft case.
Wow, that's a hell lot of money. I wonder what it feels like to have just one percent from it.
I hope the bastard will be proven guilty and gets life sentence.

Friday, May 9, 2008

My Feelings Towards America

I was blogwalking as usual, and when I visited guebukanmonyet's blog, who had a new post titled 'a little bit of america in all of us', I read it and thought to myself, "hmm... it's funny how I feel totally the other way around"

I don't hate America, hate is such a strong word. I don't crazy love it either, if that's what you think I'm guilty of.

I do use the word 'hate', but I say it in these contexts: I absolutely hate terrorism, violations of human rights, abuse and sexual harassment towards women, the fact there are people still living in poverty, female genital mutilation, radicalism, fundamentalism, ignorance, dishonesty, corruption and injustice (and several other things I will not tell you unless we become the bestest of friends). I don't like and don't agree with the current position and actions of the American government and its loony but hilarious President, but I do not dislike the American people, their culture and especially not their products.

I admire that particular country for their greatness. Greatness of being able to be the strongest most powerful country based on multi culture with people consisting of multi racial individuals from various countries of origin yet still able to forge a strong sense of national identity.

I envy their people who love their country and product to death, while we Indonesians, although we don't love our government for very legitimate reasons, why we love anything that is not produced in our country is a mystery to me. We have so many things that are priceless cultural heritages, yet we (especially the young 'uns) think it's old fashioned/kampungan, not trendy etc, while we see many batik-wearing bules (caucasian expats or tourists) in Indonesia who are in love with our culture (not just our girls).

I am confused by many of our people's unreasonable hatred towards of America (because America invaded Iraq, Afghanistan and accuses Muslims of being terrorists, yadda yadda ..) yet as guebukanmonyet wrote, those very people still enjoy America's music, food, movies and products anyway (are they hypocritical or just really mentally confused individuals?).

I am especially bewildered by Indonesians who blame America for EVERYTHING that goes wrong in our country. (So, environmental problems, financial problems, political problems, economy problems, socio-political problems are all created by America for the purpose of controlling/taking over our country? I mean, really? I seriously doubt that, I don't think they are that evil and have nothing better to do than disrupt Indonesia)

I do, however, love their music/movies/art/pop-culture. I think with that alone, (without having to create evil plans to destroy our economy/politics/finance/environment) they have succeeded in world domination. Just think, EVERY very famous American person/artist is famous elsewhere in the world. Even orang kampungs (common villagers/village people - not the ones who were famous with YMCA) know who Michael Jackson or Madonna is, although they might not be able to pronounce the names correctly, but that's besides the point. I unashamedly admit my music and songs are influenced by some great American artists and musicians, my writings (ok, I have only my blog, but I dream of someday writing a book) are influenced by several entertaining and witty blogs owned by Americans, plus, I am an American Idol die-hard fan.

I miss America very much because I lived there for a while, during which time I was experiencing some personal turbulence. I felt that I found myself there, the experience of living there, being exposed to their culture and people had changed me in a way that I would never think possible and certainly for the better. Ever since, I have felt a connection with it and its culture, which is funny seeing as I am not American. But I know many non-Americans in the world have that feeling, for them (and me) America represents the land of opportunities and freedom. It's what Americans pride their country on.

I do have some America in me, but I have some Europe and a lot of Indonesia in me as well. At the end of the day, I strongly feel that because I was born in Indonesia; have European, Arab, Indonesian blood streaming through my veins; have lived in Indonesia, New Zealand, America and now here in Europe; hold an Indonesian passport; I am a perfect example of someone who feels she is a citizen of the world. It's not that I am losing a sense of National Identity, it's just home for me is where my heart is. And I don't hate America, Europe or Indonesia because I have pieces of my heart in all those places.

*update: Because I have good manners, I have tried twice today to try to inform gue bukan monyet that I have read his post, that his post inspired me to write this one, and that I linked and mentioned his blog in this post, it seems either his blog doesn't like me anymore, of I am banned from posting comments there (Although why, I have no idea). I also tried to post comments several times there over the last few days, wasn't able to either, I thought there were internet mishaps or whatever. So now I am mentioning it here in case the blog owner reads this post, or someone who knows him does.

**update part deux: Gue bukan monyet commented that he did not ban me. So it must be an internet glitch. Thanks for reading and replying, Tasa.

Indonesian Corruption Watch Website Defaced

Yesterday I received an e-mail from fellow blogger Toshihiko Atsuyama who informed me of the Indonesian Corruption Watch (ICW) website being defaced. This is a part of his e-mail:

Hi all,

around two weeks ago (21 April) I visited the Indonesian Corruption Watch official site to find that it was hacked by a pro-Kosovan independence.
I left the site hoping that it would get fixed by the admin soon.

However, when I visited the site again today (8 May), I found out that the site has not yet been repaired. Geez, the government is indeed too busy blocking the Blogspot and pornographic sites that they forget to fix theirs!

Here is the hacked link (still unrepaired as of 8 May):
http://www.antikorupsi.org/eng/
He encouraged us to write about this, and I thought, why not? (I have also had writer's block lately hence the days of no updates)

My initial response was the same of Toshihiko's, thinking the government is possibly too busy blocking sites deemed 'dangerous' for the people (yes blasphemous videos in youtube, blogspot entries and porn sites are extremely dangerous and must be blocked and taken down. Radical videos supporting bigotry and terrorism are enlightening, friendly and safe).

All the cereal I ate this morning had obviously fed the little hamsters that keep my brain running because I thought the more apt response to this hacking phenomenon (it's not so much a controversy as it is a phenomenon because apparently nobody but us bloggers with nothing more important to do are even talking about it) is:

WHY is the site not fixed yet?

This question was followed by other questions (damn, those hamsters are on FIRE!),
1. Does the government put ICW on a lower importance level than, say, the Ministry of Finance? Or let's get wild and turn up the heat a notch now and take another example of something more important than ICW, which is not even a government entity but more along the lines of an NGO like: the MUI (Indonesian Muslim Cleric's Council) website. (these bearded guys are pretty 'tight' and 'buddy-buddy' with the government, no? *weevil grins*)
2. How can the government condemn pornography but ignores a site of a reputable organisation like ICW that is currently defaced by 'Kosovan' hackers and is now displaying words like 'fucck' (notice the double Cs) and bitches - which I'm sure in this context does not mean female dogs but female something else.
3. Kosovan hackers? really?
4. Why are the ICW people not doing anything about it?
5. I know for a fact Indonesia has LOTS of computer geniuses disguised as skinny teens and tweens who like to hang out in the local satay vendors and internet kiosks. Why aren't anyone of authority employ these geniuses and fix the problem?
6. It's just a deface, my multiply was defaced a while back and with the help and remote guidance of three people I know, I was able to fix it and block the guy who defaced my site plus report that guy to multiply resulting in his account's suspension. Eat that, fucktard! (Ok, this one isn't a question, but this is my blog and I can write anything in it even when it does not make sense.)
7. Kosovan hackers? really?

These questions ended up in a semi-crazy conspiracy theory (I know God hates Conspiracy Theories - no, let me correct that - he hates 911 conspiracy theorists, but just in case he hates all theorists - conspiracy or otherwise - I'm sorry God, I'll make it up to you, promise!) which is:

Maybe the defacing hackers are not kosovan independence hackers after all (surprise surprise!!) but a group of glutton individuals in the government and/or related to any government officials that might be disadvantaged by any findings of the ICW - who they think is a lesser organisation because they uncover corrupt individuals, that are actually not corrupt (yeah, right) - who in the end enlist the help of a local skinny teen or tween defacing hacker or two familiar with Kosova (who may even live there at one point of their lives or wishes to, although why they wish so is beyond me) and who several negotiation and price quotations later finally reached a price agreement and did it. These hackers are also maintaining the deface daily for a 'monthly defacing subscription package' fee totally paid for this full year, which would explain why weeks have gone by and the site is still in that form.

Crazy? maybe just semi, but I'm almost certainly sure this is the answer. The hamsters in my head says so.

Monday, May 5, 2008

I am Fatih Syuhud's Blogger Indonesia of the Week!

I was checking my stats on sitemeter when I saw visitors to my site that were referred by Fatih Syuhud's blog.

So apparently, I am his Blogger Indonesia of the Week (though I was hoping for the title of Blogger of the year, but you can't always get what you want, right?) and I am grateful for it (this should be point #11 of the list of reasons in my previous post).

His review of my blog was full of praise (which I get a lot but still love to hear nonetheless)

As far as Rima Fauzi’s blog is concerned, however, one thing is clear: she always makes her points crystal clear even when the points she makes very unpopular like the post I quoted above. I commend her gut to speak out. Not many Indonesian, especially the ladies, are able to do so. And for that alone she deserves our honest appreciation. Her willingness to show her identity–not being anonymous blogger–deserves her even more appreciation from all of us.

I feel somewhat ashamed because I have been very goofy lately and have not written too serious of topics for fear of mental exhaustion. But not to worry, I will be my sarcastic and realistic self soon enough. I am at the moment on a leave of absence from serious blogging, but will be back in a few weeks with some - hopefully - provocative and mind juggling posts.

Mas Fatih, thanks for acknowledging my blog and to quote one of my posts, and, uh.. Yaaayyy!!!


I am awesome. VERY awesome, in fact.

I was wondering how awesome I am, and here I discovered the answer.
It is an undeniable truth how awesome I am, the Goddess of the Awesome that is Awesomer than anything Awesome.

10 reasons of how and why I am awesome:

1. I can sit, twiddle my thumbs and say, "let there be light!" (mr. husband usually gets up and switches on the light) and light will appear. That's how awesome I am.

2. My thesis got an 'A' although the contents were all of things I made up. References? Random papers I found on the internet. One or two of which were 'lectures' in the University of Indonesia that never really took place. I am so awesome my professors trembled at the thought of giving me a 'B' or 'C' and gave me an 'A' instead for a thesis based on figments of my imagination (and MAD writing skills, yo!).

3. When I speak or sing, goosebumps happen, even on the geese themselves, I was told.

4. I am the president of The Club For Those Who Are Made Of Awesome.

5. I am so awesome that I sometimes forget how awesome I am and started being all humble and stuff.

6. I can type with my eyes closed. In foreign languages.
sldfk awpoe;aojg asdalsd trwpag, wek-sadfk asdweig secseyl;as,weials,d.
See?

7. You know how people say God is fair to give a beautiful woman stupid brains and Ugly women smart brain?
They're wrong, God is unfair because he gave me beauty and smarts. Oh, and he made me awesome.

8. I was once pulled over by a police officer in Manhattan for speeding. When he came to my window and asked for my drivers license, I gave him my Indonesian 'A' drivers license (A is for car drivers, C for motorcycle, B for what else I don't remember). Being a non-awesome being that he was, he asked me what kind of drivers license it was, to which came my reply of, "Oh, you see the letter 'A' there? This is an Indonesian International drivers license valid in countries beginning with the letter A, like America." A few winks and lip pouts later I was on my way with a mild warning. Surely that couldn't have happened to a less-awesome individual.

9. I have so many things in my head I could blog it all and still have enough for the next day.

10. When I pray, God tells me to wait until he gets back from getting popcorns and a can of diet Coke before I start (yes, He drinks diet Coke and prefers salty popcorn to sweet). He thinks my stories/wishes/prayers are witty and amazing, much like Bruce Lee movies. God loves Bruce Lee. Sometimes Bruce Lee sits with God who then shares His popcorn, and both would listen to me pray, they think I am really awesome.

So there you have it, cold hard undeniable facts of how and why I am awesome.

Recommended Reading of the Week - May 5th

This week's recommended reading is all about finding things to tide you over when you are bored out of your mundane little mind.

I know, I know.. it sounds depressing, right? Well I got news for you.
a. It's bloody MONDAY. No other day is more depressing unless it's a holiday monday followed by holiday tuesday, wednesday, thursday and friday. Then it will be ecstatically fantastic.
b. The sun is shining, temperature is between 10 and 22 degrees C, and I'm stuck in my bloody office in front of my stupid computer looking out the window and feeling envy at all the people walking outside enjoying the sun and all its glory.
c. I just had a longer than usual weekend from Thursday to Sunday it made me forget what being cooped up in a room feels like (thank God I have a room instead of a cubicle, picking your nose and farting in a cubicle can be quite traumatic - not that I do any of those things..)

So I was net surfing when I found these sites:


Hemale or Shemale: A very interesting quiz for men (or women who has nothing better to do like myself) to see whether you can spot a 36C busted gal with a 34-25 (look up what it spells on your phone pad to see what this is. hint: rhymes with egg benedict and supercallafragalistic) or just a regular hottie with a genuine poonanie.

I took the test and here is my results:

You got 9 out of 12 right, or about 75%.

unless you drink too much you shouldn't be in any danger

f finding an "outie" when you were expecting an "innie"


Online Pregnancy Test: The state of the art technology this site uses will not only reveal whether you are with baby or not, but will also determine whether it's a boy or a girl. Better still, the magnificent site will tell you the baby's s hair and eye color, weight and - if you were pregnant as a result of a night or three of drunken stupor - it will also give you information on who the daddy is and/or are.


It's a no-hassle and clinically proven to be safe method; no sticks, no urine all over hands and toilet seat on a stick and best of all, it's abso-fuckin'-lutely free!



The Institute of Official Cheer: The site owner's description of the Institute:

Home of the Gallery of Regrettable Food, the Gobbler, Art Frahm, and so very, very much more. Eleven years old and still updated weekly! Retro heaven: comics, pamphlets, WW2 ads, drug-company brochures, cigarette ads, 70s fashion. Trust me: you can waste a lot of time here.
Trust him and wasted a lot of time I sure did.


The Institute was a load of fun! It's got Bad Comics every Monday, Ancient Ads every Wednesday and Shopping in Sears circa 1973 every Thursday. I mean, what could be cooler than that? (MY BLOG, but that's besides the point)


[shameless promoting mode]

Don't forget to tune in for next week's edition. It's gonna be great!

[/shameless promoting mode]


Enjoy your recommended reading of this week!

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Dear Diary: PMS

I am not going to write about Peggy Melati Sukma, nor will I be writing about Papa Mau Seks/Presidential Management Staff/Particle Measuring System. The topic today is the "real" PMS, the Pre Menstrual Demon we all love to hate, one that I choose to call "Phucking Menstrual Syndrome".

What Does PMS Mean?

1. Pass My Shotgun
2. Psychotic Mood Shift
3. Perpetual Munching Spree
4. Puffy Mid-Section
5. Pimples May Surface
6. Provide Me with Sweets
7. People Make me Sick
8. Pardon My Sobbing
9. Pass My Sweatpants
10. Pissy Mood Syndrome
11. Plainly; Men Suck
12. Pack My Stuff
13. Potential Murder Suspect

~~~~~~~~~~~

I went to Holland on Thursday for a gig with my old band. This band was my first one here in Europe, and the members aren't only bandmates but also my good friends. We haven't played together in three years, so this gig is quite exciting as it is kinda like The Police reunion tour, except for the fact that ours is not so much a tour as it is a wedding reception gig (takes me back to those oh-so-fun days of gigging everywhere and anywhere just for the fun of it).

We (vocalist no 2 cum percussionist and I who both live in Brussels) arrived at our rehearsal studio Thursday at 4 pm. I was pumped and ready for all things exciting. The keyboard master and guitar god was already there, no signs of bass prodigy and drummer extrordinaire yet. So we caught up with one another's life, drank a bit and jammed a few songs together. Before we could realize it, the clock was pointing at 7, yet still no sign of the two. My stomach was growling, and I was starting to feel a slight tension of anxiety from all the waiting.

They finally showed up at 8 by which time I was moderately bitchy and upset. I was hungry, tired from waiting for four hours, bitchy because we have lost four hours of precious time we could have used for rehearsal. They had somewhat of a legitimate excuse but I was too pissed off to even acknowledge it. We ended up rehearsing until the wee hours and I went back to the drummer's house to get some sleep.

I woke up at 10 am the next morning with a big hangover, (not from alcohol but from going to bed angry and exhausted) a motherfucking pain on my waist and sharp shooting painful bitch of a migraine. It was official, I was D-day minus 2 away from my period and I was PMS-ing like a scorned vengeful bitch on speed, crack and ecstasy.

We had to be at the gig at 6 so I pretty much did nothing but lounge around and watch TV. I started getting ready at 5 and then I found out that because of technical difficulties (one more thing to set off a fuse in my head) the drummer and I were only able to go there at 7, one hour after the time we were supposed to arrive. Yes the gig started at 8, but we were supposed to be there for a sound check at 6, and if you are in a band, you know how important a sound check is.

By that time, I had a list of things that would turn me into a homicidal maniac, which is:
we haven't played together in three years;
yet we did not have a decent rehearsal;
I had no sound check;
I was feeling very much under the weather (I was beyond pissed because I have just recovered from the flu a few days earlier and knowing that my very important workshop on the 7th with NY singer Elliot Murphy could be jeopardized by another fucking flu that I cannot really afford doesn't help either);
I feel like a ginormous bloated elephant in drag;
and to make things worse, I was beginning to lose my voice.

Perfect, juuuuust perfect.

You can imagine how I felt knowing all of the above. Yet I was expected to smile and entertain hundreds of people despite feeling as if I was just been hit by a train/bitten by a vampire/been involved in a mud wrestling competition with a dozen of obese women.

At the end of the evening, it seemed like everybody had fun. We didn't play as bad as I thought we were going to and I was able to entertain and stayed professional throughout the gig despite throwing up a couple of times from the nausea. I think my band mates understood that PMS took over my body and let out some harsh words, well, at least I hope they did.

I arrived home last night, had a very good night's sleep in the arms of hubby (which is the only anti-dote againts my PMS) and woke up this morning feeling refreshed and anew, ready to blog once again.

Being a woman is cool, but I swear, being a woman with PMS is a bitch.

Disorder in the American Courts Part Deux

  • Lawyer: "Was that the same nose you broke as a child?"
  • Witness: "I only have one, you know."

  • Accused, Defending His Own Case: "Did you get a good look at my face when I took your purse?"

The defendant was found guilty and sentenced to ten years in jail.


  • Lawyer: "What is your date of birth?"
  • Witness: "July 15th."
  • Lawyer: "What year?"
  • Witness: "Every year."

  • Lawyer: "Can you tell us what was stolen from your house?"
  • Witness: "There was a rifle that belonged to my father that was stolen from the hall closet."
  • Lawyer: "Can you identify the rifle?"
  • Witness: "Yes. There was something written on the side of it."
  • Lawyer: "And what did the writing say?"
  • Witness: "'Winchester'!"

  • Lawyer: "Can you describe what the person who attacked you looked like?"
  • Witness: "No. He was wearing a mask."
  • Lawyer: "What was he wearing under the mask?"
  • Witness: "Er...his face."

  • Lawyer: "How old is your son, the one living with you?"
  • Witness: "Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember which."
  • Lawyer: "How long has he lived with you?"
  • Witness: "Forty-five years."

  • Lawyer: "Sir, what is your IQ?"
  • Witness: "Well, I can see pretty well, I think."

  • Lawyer: "Did you blow your horn or anything?"
  • Witness: "After the accident?"
  • Lawyer: "Before the accident."
  • Witness: "Sure, I played for ten years. I even went to school for it."

  • Lawyer: "Trooper, when you stopped the defendant, were your red and blue lights flashing?"
  • Witness: "Yes."
  • Lawyer: "Did the defendant say anything when she got out of her car?"
  • Witness: "Yes, sir."
  • Lawyer: "What did she say?"
  • Witness: "'What disco am I at?'"

  • Lawyer: "How far apart were the vehicles at the time of the collision?"

  • Lawyer: "And you check your radar unit frequently?"
  • Officer: "Yes, I do."
  • Lawyer: "And was your radar unit functioning correctly at the time you had the plaintiff on radar?"
  • Officer: "Yes, it was malfunctioning correctly."

  • Lawyer: "What happened then?"
  • Witness: "He told me, he says, 'I have to kill you because you can identify me.'"
  • Lawyer: "Did he kill you?"
  • Witness: "No."

  • Lawyer: "Now sir, I'm sure you are an intelligent and honest man--"
  • Witness: "Thank you. If I weren't under oath, I'd return the compliment."

  • Lawyer: "You were there until the time you left, is that true?"

  • Lawyer: "So you were gone until you returned?"

  • Lawyer: "The youngest son, the 20 year old, how old is he?"

  • Lawyer: "Were you alone or by yourself?"

  • Lawyer: "How long have you been a French Canadian?"

  • Lawyer: "Mr. Slatery, you went on a rather elaborate honeymoon, didn't you?"
  • Witness: "I went to Europe, sir."
  • Lawyer: "And you took your new wife?"

  • Lawyer: "I show you Exhibit 3 and ask you if you recognize that picture."
  • Witness: "That's me."
  • Lawyer: "Were you present when that picture was taken?"

  • Lawyer: "Were you present in court this morning when you were sworn in?"

  • Lawyer: "How many times have you committed suicide?"
  • Witness: "Four times."

  • Lawyer: "Do you have any children or anything of that kind?"

  • Lawyer: "She had three children, right?"
  • Witness: "Yes."
  • Lawyer: "How many were boys?"
  • Witness: "None."
  • Lawyer: "Were there girls?"

  • Lawyer: "You don't know what it was, and you didn't know what it looked like, but can you describe it?"

  • Lawyer: "You say that the stairs went down to the basement?"
  • Witness: "Yes."
  • Lawyer: "And these stairs, did they go up also?"

  • Lawyer: "Have you lived in this town all your life?"
  • Witness: "Not yet."

  • Lawyer: (realizing he was on the verge of asking a stupid question) "Your Honor, I'd like to strike the next question."

  • Lawyer: "Do you recall approximately the time that you examined the body of Mr. Eddington at the Rose Chapel?"
  • Witness: "It was in the evening. The autopsy started about 8:30pm."
  • Lawyer: "And Mr. Eddington was dead at the time, is that correct?"

  • Lawyer: "What is your brother-in-law's name?"
  • Witness: "Borofkin."
  • Lawyer: "What's his first name?"
  • Witness: "I can't remember."
  • Lawyer: "He's been your brother-in-law for years, and you can't remember his first name?"
  • Witness: "No. I tell you, I'm too excited." (rising and pointing to his brother-in-law) "Nathan, for heaven's sake, tell them your first name!"

  • Lawyer: "Did you ever stay all night with this man in New York?"
  • Witness: "I refuse to answer that question.
  • Lawyer: "Did you ever stay all night with this man in Chicago?"
  • Witness: "I refuse to answer that question.
  • Lawyer: "Did you ever stay all night with this man in Miami?"
  • Witness: "No."

  • Lawyer: "Doctor, did you say he was shot in the woods?"
  • Witness: "No, I said he was shot in the lumbar region."

  • Lawyer: "What is your marital status?"
  • Witness: "Fair."

  • Lawyer: "Are you married?"
  • Witness: "No, I'm divorced."
  • Lawyer: "And what did your husband do before you divorced him?"
  • Witness: "A lot of things I didn't know about."

  • Lawyer: "How did you happen to go to Dr. Cherney?"
  • Witness: "Well, a gal down the road had had several of her children by Dr. Cherney and said he was really good."

  • Lawyer: "Doctor, how many autopsies have you performed on dead people?"
  • Witness: "All my autopsies have been performed on dead people."

  • Lawyer: "Were you acquainted with the deceased?"
  • Witness: "Yes sir."
  • Lawyer: "Before or after he died?"

  • The Court: "Now, as we begin, I must ask you to banish all present information and prejudice from your minds, if you have any."

  • Lawyer: "Did he pick the dog up by the ears?"
  • Witness: "No."
  • Lawyer: "What was he doing with the dog's ears?"
  • Witness: "Picking them up in the air."
  • Lawyer: "Where was the dog at this time?"
  • Witness: "Attached to the ears."

  • Lawyer: "When he went, had you gone and had she, if she wanted to and were able, for the time being excluding all the restraints on her not to go, gone also, would he have brought you, meaning you and she, with him to the station?"
  • Other Lawyer: "Objection. That question should be taken out and shot."

  • Lawyer: "What is your relationship with the plaintiff?"
  • Witness: "She is my daughter."
  • Lawyer: "Was she your daughter on February 13, 1979?"

  • Lawyer: "Now, you have investigated other murders, have you not, where there was a victim?"

  • Lawyer: "And what did he do then?"
  • Witness: "He came home, and next morning he was dead."
  • Lawyer: "So when he woke up the next morning he was dead?"

  • Lawyer: "Did you tell your lawyer that your husband had offered you indignities?"
  • Witness: "He didn't offer me nothing. He just said I could have the furniture."

  • Lawyer: "So, after the anesthesia, when you came out of it, what did you observe with respect to your scalp?"
  • Witness: "I didn't see my scalp the whole time I was in the hospital."
  • Lawyer: "It was covered?"
  • Witness: "Yes, bandaged."
  • Lawyer: "Then, later on...what did you see?"
  • Witness: "I had a skin graft. My whole buttocks and leg were removed and put on top of my head."

  • Lawyer: "Could you see him from where you were standing?"
  • Witness: "I could see his head."
  • Lawyer: "And where was his head?"
  • Witness: "Just above his shoulders."

  • Lawyer: "Do you drink when you're on duty?"
  • Witness: "I don't drink when I'm on duty, unless I come on duty drunk."

  • Lawyer: "Any suggestions as to what prevented this from being a murder trial instead of an attempted murder trial?"
  • Witness: "The victim lived."

  • Lawyer: "The truth of the matter is that you were not an unbiased, objective witness, isn't it? You too were shot in the fracas."
  • Witness: "No, sir. I was shot midway between the fracas and the naval."