Listening to: Watermark - Enya
Supernova - Petir by Dee

I wish I were rich

that I could travel to places
that I could design my own house as I please
that I could give my dogs a proper annual injection
that I could present my mother a calm healthy peaceful life with no stress
that I could have only one job to cover everything, instead of two and more
that I could make my sister and brother happy and enjoy their smiley faces

I wish I were beautiful
that I could date any cool guys I want
that I could be an international top model
that I could make much much money from it
that I could be rich

I wish I were wise
that I wouldn't spend my money on useless things
that I could manage my working time more effectively
that I could earn more money
that I could be rich

I wish I were famous
that people would adore me
that I would get a lot of gifts
, money prefered
that I could save all of them without working
that I could be rich

I wish I were rich
that I could afford plane tickets to the rainy country where mijn lieverd lives
that I could squeeze, feel, taste, smell, kiss and love him
that I could be together with him
that I could smile again
that I could laugh again
that I could love again
if only I were rich

I'm not.

It's so fucking hot today. Like hell. Naturally it makes everybody get easily angry and find troubles.

There is this someone I know, who is very often moody. When he is, he can bitch really hard and hurt people around him. Including me. He didn't seem to realise it obviously. Especially after I had this stupid incident.

It was my turn to be moody today. The heat was killing me and I wasn't very much interested in socialising. So when he greeted me on yahoo messenger I warned him in the very first moment that my mood was fucked up. He, however, was in a more fortunate state, that he didn't have to be trapped in this so very hot city of Surabaya. So his mood was okay.

Not long after the greet, I started to be bitching. A bad one. A very bad one. I've hardly do harsh stuff like that to people, but I felt like it. I meant it to be a joke but it didn't turn out to be accepted like one.

So he was mad.

So I was sorry.

So I sent him an apology email and sms.

So he sent me an sms reply of: Stay moody. Don't give me these shits.

I am hurt. I am sad. I am angry.

Is he the only one who has the right to bitch when he's moody?


Updated on April 25, 2005

I borrowed Veve's mobile phone when I smsed him. And when he replied me as such, I was too pissed to send another apology sms. So I turned it off and returned it to Vei. Last weekend I checked my number, and I got an sms from him (on the same unlucky day) that it was okay. My mood was kind of contagious but it's ok. So I guess we're normal again now. Phew!
Last weekend's Who Wants to be the Millionaire show was AWESOME! Did you watch it? Did you watch it?

I don't usually watch TV too much.. not even in my weekends. But sometimes I like accompanying my mum watching some TV shows in Saturday evenings when she is most of the time left alone at home -- bro is always out then. Well yeah, he's having his normal youth life, with a lovely girlfriend. So why wasting a beautiful Saturday night at home?
That left me -- the single available person that seems to have no life -- in the family to be with my beloved mum. Not that it was an obligatory thing to do. I rarely spend my time at home, and always love to spare some time for dear mummy.

Well, two weeks ago, the latest participant in the Who Wants to be the Millionaire came out to be a very shy not-daring-to-look-at-a-person-in-the-eye Javanese guy who works as a loper koran (paperboy). He was trying his luck in the quiz show to fund his getting-married to his girlfriend. If you looked at him, you would have guessed that he wouldn't be getting too far in it. Really... physically, he doesn't have the look of smart person. He always ducked his head when he answered the questions Tantowi Yahya, the presenter, was asking him. He didn't take too long to answer and he seemed to be sooo.. careless. My mother said that he wouldn't make it and he should be happy to get an Rp 8 million prize to fund up his wedding party. Consider those professors and doctors who didn't pass the third safe level of the Rp 32 million prize. Some of them didn't even survive to the Rp 8 million stage! So, indeed, it was very reasonable that my mother said so.

As always, I argued:
"Well, those doctors and professors have only one or two big but very specific knowledge of their majors. So actually it was quite normal that they couldn't answer a lot of questions of random fields of study. Remember the easiest question of literature taught in the elementary school? The most simple idioms and proverbs? The most obvious geography facts? And the other should-be-easy-and-general-stuff-to-know-abouts? They couldn't answer them! But this guy... is a paperboy. He might have read the news for quite some years now and he might know much more things than those doctors! At least, he'll make it to the Rp 32 million prize, I'll say."

The time was up and the game was continued in the next weekend (which was last week).

I was staying the night at Rina's, almost forgetting the quiz when suddenly Rina's mum was excitedly talking about the paper-guy on TV. Rushing to her room, I sat nicely and began to watch the show.

I was right. He made it to the Rp 32 million prize.. to the Rp 250 million.. and stop at the last level and was happy to only get the Rp 500 million! Holy shit!


And what was he again? A paper boy? And what was everybody's speculation on his chances? Man.. Salut!!!

Everybody was standing up for him everytime he answered the so-very-fucking-crazy-difficult questions right! Tantowi Yahya, actually ran to his place and gave him a hug twice. He did deserve the applause, the respect, the admiration! Go Agus!!!

There again.. I was taught not to judge someone by its appearance, or way of act, or words, or religion, or race, or tribe, or colour of skin or hair, or any differences we were born gifted. I was taught not to underestimate anyone by their profession or unlucky situations in their life.
Instead, serve all people the same. It will create a happier, healthier and nicer relationship in the community. In the long run, it can be one way of avoiding any kind of war. Does it quite make sense?

I admire this Agus person. His braveness. His low-profileness. His brain. His willing-to-learn from the used unsold newspapers. His survival tricks. He's so cool of a man, really.
He might not be the handsome guy of our standard, nor does he dress up like a very intelligent person. But he's intelligent in real and he's sweet in real. Now he can enjoy the Rp 500 million (is it all money??? hehehe) he earned from his own hard discipline work and study for years and guts, of course, to join this exclusive seeming-to-be luxurious TV show. You can even buy a HUGE house and a sport car, Gus!!! Congrats!
Listening to: Dashboard Confessional - So Beautiful
Careful now, you're so beautiful
When you've convinced yourself
That no one else is quite as beautiful
The topics of girly conversations that have been raised to me lately (read: these past 4 weeks) are around dieting, getting to the age of a more serious relationship or marriage, beauty attempts and how men suck.

All have not ever had a big space in my mind to bother about, until some really close friends mentioned and worried about them.

Veve one day came to me and with an almost crying face. She complained that she got another wedding invitation in June. "Err.., I said, "Shouldn't you be happy that your friend is getting married?" She explained that it made her have to buy a new party gown, which resulted to her having to save some money for it, which resulted again that she had to go on a diet for the gown to be fit in her body. Hehe.. Don't ask me why it's complicated when it's not. It's what the women like us can best do. Then she also encouraged me to go on a diet, too, with her (doing some exercises and watching the food we eat). She gave me the sadly but truly excellent reason for me to be forced to do it: Mark is coming. Don't you wanna look good for him?
Of course I do. But with all my full activities during the week, when do I have the chance to go to the gym and shape my body (hell yeah.. excuses!). I did try to do the sit-ups, though. For three days. Until my watching-the-food-I-eat programme ruined my stomach last week. Bleh.

So here we are back to the issue of fatness. Do you remember how I used to defend my gaining extra fat by telling you that the fat is a blessing? Something that makes a woman a woman. I do still believe in it. And I am quite happy with my curves. Unfortunately, somehow the general Indonesian perception of how the women's body should look like have gotten into me and brainwashed me. Recall those friendly insults I've been receiving. No, I am not into the super skinny obsession! But I feel like having my flat stomach back. At the perfect time Mark came to me with an argument that a woman's tummy should be a little fat, and not hollow, and that's what should be considered sexy. He likes it that way. He loves it that way. Of course he hasn't seen me in real. Nevertheless, it did give me a good strike to bring me back to my old perception of weight. Exactly just what I've been questioning myself when I looked at my naked reflection in the mirror every morning: What the hell is wrong with my body? Seriously, it is still in a good proportion. Fatter, but in balance with the other growing parts of my whole body.

Careful now, you're so beautiful
When you've convinced yourself
That no one else is quite as beautiful
Well if my friends have succeeded in brainwashing me about my uglier shape, I've apparently succeeded in convincing Rina that the extra fat is one of a lot of things about us that we should be proud of. Read her latest journal here.
Again, it hits me hard. Why am I forgetting all I have said and believed? I'm not lacking anything. I've got my hair, face, skin and every other section of my body normal. All are functioning, all are not worth being sad for. I still wear my best smile and I still charm people with my words. So stop complaining, Carla! And stop listening to the external complaints, too! You're beautiful.

Careful now, you're so beautiful
When you've convinced yourself
That no one else is quite as beautiful

Then I realised it. The mind trick the people and I have been playing with my brain.
Confidence. Believing in yourself. Standing for what you trust.
Of course I can't deny I'm gaining weight. Of course I must admit that I want my tummy to be like it used to be. But I'm not going to stress myself in my attempts to achieve that.
I'll do the sit-ups, alright. I'll walk more often (the best exercise to burn my fat and save more money). I'll eat healthy food. But nothing... nothing will ever make me hurt myself and my mind again.

As much as I expect people to do so, I'll also watch my words towards other people's appearance. Though I can hardly recall myself giving physical attack first, I think I've done it once, too. If I did it to you and you happened to read this, I apologise. I know it best that it hurts just so much to hear a discouragement from your friends you love and trust. So why not making ourselves comfortable and together say aloud: I am beautiful.

Careful now, you're so beautiful
When you've convinced yourself
That no one else is quite as beautiful
What is your worst nightmare?

Is it a dream of a ghost chasing you to death? A pervert asshole trying to rape you? Falling from a tall building? Drown in the sea? Losing someone you love in the most tragical way? Being impotent or frigid? Losing a part of your body (eyes, legs, arms, etc.)? Or what?

Well, my childhood worst nightmare was:

I didn't know if I was standing or sitting or laying. I couldn't see any light, at all. It should be the eternal darkness. I tried to use my logic and told myself that I SHOULD HAVE BEEN able to see some lights going through my pupils, no matter how dark my room was, from the small ventilation windows above me. But I couldn't. see. anything.
There was no ground. Or floor. Something where I could step my feet on. And nobody was around, either. I was all alone. But I was not afraid of the loneliness. Nor the dark.
The only thing that my senses could say was there was a sound. A very distinct sound. From afar. It was a sound of a hard thing banged on a hard ground.


At first I thought it might be a good thing that I was not the only one in that multi-dimensional world. But my mind said the otherwise. I was in a danger.


The sound was getting louder and louder as it approached me.
Even faster than before.

I tried to run away. But I couldn't. How could I? There was no ground!!!
I tried to roll myself.. in case I was laying down. But I couldn't either. No ground!
I panicked and tried to move every single part of my body. But they were actually numb. I couldn't feel them. I couldn't move them. I couldn't command them as I pleased. I couldn't do anything with myself!

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Then I woke up. Just before the thing, which must be very huge, fell on me.
Before I died.
I fell
I hurt
I cried
I possessed
a wounded mark
I thought
it wouldn't cure.
I lost
the capability of smiling
I used to do
a lot
in the old time

But you

I don't know how
I should tell you
how I loved
and blessed
the day I knew you

My doctor.