They can't take what's ours

I can't believe that today, well, it's 1 in the morning, so let's just say tomorrow, will be the last chance that I will ever claim you someone I know, someone I can claim as somehow related to me. I don't know why I can't sleep or think straight, I can't read my textbooks without thinking about how big tomorrow will be. I know I shouldn't. Learning from past experiences, the days that I expected the most will be the most anticlimactic day ever. But I just can't help it. Anyway, I never learn. That's just one thing you gotta know about me. You know what, it took me a very long time to realize that it might real. I was always in denial; and I'm getting even better at it. It's not healthy, but that's what I do. I'm in denial even when I don't need to. I've got a really good self-defense, that I just simply don't let things happen to me. But for you, I let my guard down. It's too late, but... this is the only thing I can do. My only regret is not because it's too late. My only regret is that I couldn't find out from much earlier, while there was still plenty of time. Now the time is running out, and I still can't find a way to do it, and... it's all useless. I don't know why I always do this. I don't know why it was always someone who has to go. But that's my issue, so you don't really have to mind. But really, there's only one thing you need to know: I do, and I did have the courage but my another issue is that my self-defense always get in the way. I feel sorry for myself that there are days when I woke up in the morning and I just thought of something, and I trusted them too much. I didn't think that maybe it was a half-conscious mind speaking, and I was stupid for believing in it. I know you're not gonna read this, but I hope someday you will be able to know that I do, and I was stupid, and I regret it. I wish you well. I wish you well. I hope it's not our farewell.

"Dexter, I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will. I just don't like you anymore. I'm sorry."

— David Nicholls

Folk tales sung by the birds

You started it all in Amsterdam. I wish you didn't have to pass me by on your lovely bike, ornamented with carnations on both ends. I wish you didn't have to stop to ask me whether I needed to ask someone for the train to go to Rijk's Museum. I can read maps, you know? Clearly you underestimated me. But I can't believe I gave up to the temptation of stealing someone's bike from one of the corner of the streets, and followed you down there. But oh boy, was the cheap ice cream the only thing I got. Rijk's was closed; you said Van Gogh wasn't ready to see me. I can't believe I laughed. But you deserved it anyway.

I hated Paris. The Eiffel tower is merely a landmark for me; everything is always related to Napoleon, and he was not even a nice guy, why are they so proud of the man who was not genetically French at all? But there, right on the deck of one of those Seine boats, you told me your own version of Notre Dame, and your own version of how Sacre Coeur was built, and the real story about how you broke up with your high school sweetheart in Pont Neuf during the sunset. We agreed that people were wrong about Paris, it's only great for its pretentiousness. But we agreed that people were right about something: Paris does things to people. Things that are so magical, you didn't even know they exist.

"Why are we in Bruges?" I asked.

"So that you remember, fairy tales came from the minds of people who live in the real life. This is the closest that we can be to fairy tales, and I want you to still believe in them. One day, you will be old enough to start reading it again. Yeah, that was C.S. Lewis, though." and you laughed.

I couldn't believe we have the same favorite spot in Lucerne, or Luzern, as the natives call it. I was never fluent in Latin, and you translated the words carved on the monument, the story behind it, and what Mark Twain had to say about the lion. I wish you didn't have to explain them to me. I wish you didn't have to stare at the lion the way I stared at it; at least you could've done it some other time, some place other than next to me. As we walked back to a less sheltered place than the monument, you told me one thing I will always carry in my boots, "Don't confuse love with madness."

I don't know how we decided to go to the Spanish Steps on a Saturday evening. It was full of people; people who awaits for their friends, people who were hipster enough to hang out there, people who's on a Roman Holiday, people who's taking pictures, people who's made good use of their credit cards in Gucci... People. You told me to go buy a Prada handkerchief for my mom. You told me to walk a few meters away and throw some coins into the Trevi Fountain. You told me that all good things, like the Roman Empire, no matter how powerful it was, comes to an end. You told me that if you try to flash back some memories, it's like reading a Russian novel, where every second, every small details, counts. In other words, you told me that we had a great time, so this is good bye.

One Sunday Morning

I look down through my window that particular morning, and this is what I see. I cannot say more than "I love you."

To be comfortable in pain

You cannot waste your youth just sitting in a room scrolling on Tumblr, because it's not worth it. I learned that now. You need to get out there, each of every day, and see what life has to do to you. Like take your handbag away from you, for example. Or make you yell right on your friend's nose because you're just so mad and stressed and disappointed. I don't even know why I'm writing this, I guess I'm just bored, and writing is always the best thing I can do. It prevents me from drinking, smoking, or calling people by the names. It reduces the amount of bad karma that I get from excessive amount of gossiping and swearing. Life is supposed to make you feel.

This is my definition of a new year. The biggest task I gotta do is done, I cut my hair off and I lost so much things all in five days. It's a lot to feel, and I just cannot feel more alive. Yes, I'm sad and happy and miserable and weak, but I know I'm alive.

“But I don’t believe that life is supposed to make you feel good, or to make you feel miserable either. Life is just supposed to make you feel.”

—	Gloria Naylor

Objection, Your Honor

There have been so many works to do lately that led me to reading a lot of stuffs from local law offices in Jakarta. And I have been reading some of my posts in the last 1,5 half year and when I compared it to my college friends' tweets, I kind of... you know, feel so shallow somehow. I know I'm a deeply superficial self, but sometimes (pretending) to be deep is important... so that people would take you seriously. I haven't been a fanatic of the fact that I went to law school and that when I watch the news I can make a little opinion about how stupid people can be, no, never. I haven't been genuinely proud of it, to say the least. I don't like the law... except for Jude Law, that is. But I know some of my friends who will read this is going through the same path as I do, and after a little research (that I was pushed to do due for work) I decided that I will defend what is our fate at least for now, which is something called Indonesian law school.(This is my way of doing my new year resolution, actually. I wanted to stop feeling like what I have is not good enough---worse that other people's, even. But I tried to open my eyes and put things on perspective and all I can see is... heck, other people have their own insecurities too. Not everyone is so happy with what they have, so don't get mainstream, be an opportunist by thinking that what I have is much better than theirs.) Which means I wouldn't explicitly say that I'm not proud of it; not happy about it; not gonna be a lawyer and all that stuff. Instead, what I'm trying to say is this: Hey, it's not that bad.

It's true. After some research, if you're competitive and a bit lucky, even if it's here in this country, you will get a job that pays the bill. Every kind of bill imaginable---or the ones that don't, even. One day, after spending half of your lifetime worrying about cases that aren't yours and manipulating unfortunate people, you will be able to afford a walk-in closet full of Manolos just like Carrie Bradshaw's or to go play golf with your colleagues in China regularly (this is a true story, by the way). And guess what? You don't have to work on jobs that could have cost you your personal safety... or life, like in an offshore oil drilling, for instance. Well, you won't be able to see your family a lot too, but at least you don't risk of losing an eyeball (this is also a true story). Along with those capitalist bankers, you are most likely to be blamed for a nation's failure, but you see, it's not true. It's not the lawyers to be blamed, it's the politician. It's probably just a coincidence that most politicians have a lawyering background, but if you ever studied something about both of them, you'll see they're like sisters from different fathers. One day, after working so, very, very hard with lots of overtime work and pushing your limits and always wanting to win and being ruthless and heartless... you will be able to curl up in bed all day, eating soup, watching classic movies like there's nothing else to care in the world because you already have a bank account that can feed a whole village in Mozambique.

Life is painless for the brainless

I may be boring you, but I guess this is called an obsession. Like I've had an obsession with John and Yoko. Paul and Linda. Posh and Becks. Sid and Nancy. Well, that kind of obsession. One week after seeing the show, all that singing and dancing is still haunting me. This might be a new obsession of mine. Only this one is fictional, though.

This is Fiyero and Elphaba, in the iconic scene during As Long As You're Mine

This is Fiyero, who's already turned into a Scarecrow, and Elphaba, embracing just after he opens the trap door to find her at the end of the musical.

I'm looking forward to my next musical experience. Something like Rent, or Mamma Mia, or maybe even Les Miserables and The Phantom of The Opera.

pictures stolen from here

One Short (holi)Day

All work and no play makes Arien a very dull girl. I really needed a proper holiday, and any short holiday will do. As a very student-y college student on a budget, I decided to go to Singapore, the closest, easiest, and most affordable place to be called my holiday nirvana. I had five of my best girls coming with me to the shopping mecca; Cantika, Claudia, Natasya, Tika and Winandya. It was a really short trip. I've been to Singapore several times with my family, and three or four days was boring enough, but with these girls, I think I could handle a two weeks trip in the land of mixed cultures. It was probably one of the best trips I've ever taken, and really, I think it was marvelous. The trips to Singapore with my mum was always all about the shopping; she's been there several times for work and she'd seen a lot of places so she never took me but with these girls, everything was just so new and memorable. The four days trip got me some of my own highlights of the day, and I'm gonna tell you a bit of the highlights.

We welcome ourselves to Singapore by observing the night life

Day 1: Clarke Quay

What's the best cure for traveling with a delayed flight? Traveling with your best friends! Since I'm not really a night person, I don't know if Clarke Quay is the centre of Singapore night life or something of that sort, anyway we don't really sit there and hang out; we took pictures instead, and since we just landed that very night, the pictures might be lousy, and you can't see a lot of people there but I'm telling you, walking through that particular bridge gave me the creeps as if I just came into the wrong party where only white, crazy and drinking people were invited. I looked like I was going to school that night. Sigh.

So much for a hillbilly pose after a long, money-draining shopping spree

Day 2: Wicked The Musical

Cantika, Winandya and I decided to take a stroll and spend some shopping spree at the malls in Orchard, while the three other girls were hitting the Universal Studios Singapore. I tried to find a proper dress to catch Wicked at the Marina Bay Sands Grand Theatre later that night, but I failed. I went crazy at the stores that haven't opened in Indonesia, and the rest is, well, history. I felt like my wallet had some kind of demon that eats plastic because my money was drained in no time! That's what happens when you're a girl who gets so easily distracted with new things. You'd forget what you came up there for, was it for the holiday or the shopping?

Ozians

Anyway, after a long, tiring and money-draining shopping, we got back to the hotel to clean up and try to look as pretty as girls in budget holiday could be. At the end of the day, no one wants to look like a fucking beggar watching a musical in Marina Bay Sands, right? We took the train to Marina Bay, and with all the power of our smart-ass-ness we got to the theater on foot. That's something you can't do in Jakarta, though; you can't survive a ten minutes walk in a dress, without getting some really annoying shout out from the street workers. Well, not knowing is a gift. None of us had ever been to the Marina Bay, and we just kind of use our smart-ass-ness to find the Grand Theatre by walking through the gigantic, posh shopping mall and casino completed with sophisticated bars everywhere, and there we were! The three of us was astounded by the place we came to, like it was just simply impossible that we were ever there! What are we, a bunch of teenagers on a budgeted short holiday, doing at The Grand Theatre?! I have never seen a musical before; never been to Marina Bay Sands; and never, ever, seen such a beautiful place that costs me quiet some fortune for sitting at the top tier and the very last row. Anyway, it was worth it though. We couldn't see the facial expressions of the actors, but we'd see pretty much everything that was necessary. I didn't know a lot about Wicked, and after the two and a half hours show, I was obsessed with it. Elphaba and Fiyero would be my new romantic icons. I can't get over the fact that I wanna re-watch The Wizards of Oz now, since it's been some time. At the beginning of this blog, I wrote about how that movie was played on repeat so many times in my childhood, and I loved the young Judy Garland with the red, sparkling shoes. After the show, we decided that we didn't have the energy to walk ten minutes to the train station back to our inn, so we'd take the taxi and without knowing where exactly to find a cab, we power-walked to the taxi stands and the queue was... rad. The taxi, as we'd all know it, was pretty pricey, but who cares? We'd just seen Wicked! Live! And it was not even the original cast!! I promised myself that someday, when I'm awfully rich, I would sit front row to see one of these shows live. I just had to promise myself that. Please remind me that again 20-30 years from now?

Day 3: All The New Places

We didn't look as though we just hit the USS or Wicked last night, eh?

"You're gonna need a bigger boat!" -Jaws

From my previous Eurotrip I have learned something: I love cruising on a boat. And that's just exactly what we did, and I really liked it. That's a very touristy thing to do, and even though it was Singapore, not necessarily Seine or Thames, it was really cool. All the six of us went to see the Merlion right across the Marina Bay Sands, where we took off the train from Clarke Quay and walk along the Riverwalk all the way through the Merlion Park. There are closer stations, but I'm actually glad we didn't take them because the Riverwalk was such a pretty sight, and besides, it feels a little like walking along the Rive Gauche, or at least that's the closest that I can feel as though I was in River Gauche. The Merlion Park, like every other landmarks in the world, was full of tourists with cameras and cute poses, and I have to say that it was fun, because finally, a place where acting like tourist is not so lame because so was every other people in that place is. From there, we walked through all the skyscrapers to take another train to Chinatown, where we're supposed to have lunch. None of us was familiar with the place, so we tried to find something to eat at the most obvious place the station can lead us to: The Hong Lim Food Centre. The site was under so much construction that we had to ask a stranger, a somewhat very nice Chinese man, that showed us the way to food centre. He was going the same way, though. But still it was nice to know that people in Asian countries are still really nice and friendly. As it turns out, The Hong Lim Food Centre was paradise... for people who eats pork. For those who don't, like the majority of me and my friends, it was a bit of a dull place. There was only one kiosk by a Malaysian couple that cooks halal food, and judging from the queue, I think there's a lot of people who didn't know how rare halal food in Hong Lim Food Centre is. Anyway, after Chinatown, we moved along to Farrer Park, where we paid a visit of one of the craziest store I know, Mustafa Centre. From the site that's full of Chinese people selling traditional medicines made of bats and special herbs, there we arrived at the place so over-populated with Indian and Pakistani men and women with their peculiar culture and food and colors... and odors. Unlike mothers, we didn't buy too much from the Mustafa Centre, but then we got back to put our shopping bags down at the inn and rest our tired feet and later that night, we went separate ways again.

The only thing missing, is someone staring at the same painting for me to fall in love with

The Wicked girls went to see the Singapore's Arts Museum, while the other three was catching up with the two other museums in the other side of town (or country...) The art museum was my very first experience too. I only came there because of the free admission every Friday nights, actually... Well, the fact that we love to see some arts helps, too. The minute I saw the building, I was amazed. But as soon as I stepped foot inside, I was, again, astounded by it. There was a collector's exhibition of some sort, and the guests looked extremely rich and cool, like the kind of people you see in a high society magazine. The art was so cool... Some are haunting, some are jaw-dropping, others are like eye candies... But my favorite would have to go to the one called Chapel by an artist named Li Hui (just in case you wanna Google him). His art was one dark room with red lasers from one side of the ceiling reflected by a mirror at the centre of the room to the other side of the ceiling, completed with crosses hanging around the walls. The second we stepped in, we felt like in a Cathedral. This is the place where I think we met the artist. No, seriously. And I really liked his art, had I known any better if it was really him, I'd probably shake his hands and take a picture with him or something. He saw Winandya took a photo under the red laser, and then he gestured for us to move under the red rays in some certain position, and he directed how we're supposed to pose, but then he walked away somewhere. I have to say, his direction gave us a better quality picture, and if he was really the artist, it's no wonder. Of course he'd know the best way how to enjoy his art, eh?

The ray of red lights in the "Chapel" by Li Hui

From there, all the six of us gathered together at Chijmes. It's another eatery for the rich and the richer, I guess, because I couldn't afford the menu, but the place looks really quirky, though. And from there, we decided to have some ethnic dinner back at Farrer Park, and treat ourselves some really spicy Biryani rice with chicken and lamb. Because where else would you eat so many rice with so many spices, all served up in a tray?!

I don't care if we look like K-Pop fans. He looks and smells hot

Day 4: Abercrombie & Fitch & I'm such a spendthrift

Our last day in Singapore, the room where we've been staying was a hot mess from excessive shopping and disarranged stuffs. After a very tiring packing, where I just realized that I have lost my incredible packing skills (sigh) together we went on a very last minute stroll around Orchard Road to use up the money we had left... or at least that was me. The first place we went to was, of course, the hottest new store in Southeast Asia: Abercrombie & Fitch! The store smells like a really sexy guy just sprayed his entire body with a really sexy cologne after a long day at the gym. No, seriously. The guy standing at the front door says it all. And the shirtless male model whose job was to take pictures with the ladies (like us) and kiasu passerby wanting to have their picture taken with some hot, unknown guy? He says everything we can tell from the store. Just like the one in London, everything in there was not fashionable and overpriced. It's like, only the Jersey Shore cast would actually spend their money in that kind of store. Really, their male t-shirts are only for the guys with muscles and to be honest with you, I don't know if it's the Alessandro from summer 2008 effect, but Abercrombie always smells and looks so... Italian. Alessandro could totally make a good addition to the Jersey Shore ensemble. Or Andrea. Anyway, nobody bought anything there. We're not the Asian version of Snooki and we don't like the Mike Sorrentino kinda guy. So we moved along to buy some cute shoes for low prices, and after that, The three Wicked Girls, also known as the biggest spendthrift in the entire holiday, were off to do what they did best: shopping. Uniqlo kills, I'm telling you. Or actually, the demon inside my wallet was named Uniqlo. Or H&M. Or Sephora. Anyways. Thank God for Singapore's new regulations about the 7% tax refund for foreigners, which was simple and easy, unlike the tax refund policy in European countries. I can't tell you... just like I can't bear the feeling to remember how much we spent for shopping, or how unhealthy strolling around the Orchard road can be, but honestly, even if without the intense retail therapy, this would still be the best holiday I had with the friends I love. And it's really something I've never done before.

P.S. I only put here my favorite (and available) pictures. Anyone not pictured or not looked so good in them is merely about natural coincidences.

This time listen to Nathan

Happy new year, fellas! I know this is the time for your hopes to get higher than weeds and for your dreams to be made true like Disney tried to brainwash you. But what if your hopes and dreams have been long gone, and what's left now is merely scattered leftovers of those that mattered? I know, and I've been there (I'm there...) So this is what you need to keep hold on to this year:

"The people I admire are the people that carve a life for themselves after their dream dies."

Nathan Scott, One Tree Hill

Survive a new year, my love. Adieu for now.

I kinda hate myself, too

2011 was a rough year for me. Sure, I had a lot of fun, and at least I didn't have to lay in bed for one month due to typhus, but there was just so much drama and dilemma and problem and stuffs that I just can't mention it. Stuffs that unfortunately now I know what it feels like. I can remember every single bitter truths that happen, and I just do, even though I wish I don't. This year made me too busy to even think of a resolution for 2012. There was a lot of sweat and energy used to make this one of my most productive years so far, but I grew tired from it. The only thing that makes me happy about this new year is that, lots of people come and go, but I still have a bunch of people who stay and they're the ones who made me get out of these things alive. I'm really thankful that I didn't have to do it all alone. I'm also thankful that I feel like I have made a huge deal with my insecurities because they're probably still around here somewhere, but I'm getting better at handling it day by day, just like I feel like my dramas made me grow up a little bit more each day. I learned a lot about myself as I'm turning 18, and most of the facts make me sad, but at least I know there are some people who still love me despite my characteristics that make myself sad. I guess what I have to learn for next year is that I cannot be the one who look down on myself; it's one thing to be modest and down-to-earth, but it's another thing to always feel small among others and make myself hate myself. I spent a lot of my times in 2011 thinking about the one that got away, about what could have been if, and I look outside the window almost all the time, wondering what I would've done if I weren't here... wondering if I could do it in another life.

Anyway, let the past be the past. This year's problems didn't kill you? Well, you know you're fine.

Happy new year, fellas. I know you're gonna enjoy it.

You know I love you, I always will

Hello, Christmas holiday.

Emma Thompson being cheated on by Alan Rickman, and then there's Colin Firth proposing to his Portuguese housemaid in Portuguese and in Portugal. Oh look, Hugh Grant is playing Prime Minister dancing in his undies around The 10 Downing Street house and ringing the bell of each of the houses in Wandsworth to search for a chubby assistant he just fired; oh sod off, he's a prime minister! There's Laura Linney, choosing her disadvantaged brother over Rodrigo Santoro, and there's young Thomas Sangster, the prematurely mature boy living with his stepdad who was Liam Neeson and falling in love with an American girl. And then there's Keira Knightley, being the love of the hopeless romantic Andrew Lincoln who loves her indefinitely but she's married to his best friend... Just so you know Lincoln, you can be in The Walking Dead for as long as you wished, but to me, forever you are that fake Christmas carolers on Keira's door telling her that you love her more than Kate Moss.

That means it was time for Love Actually. Merry Christmas and happy holidays, people. Have a wonderful joy.