Listening to: Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day

Sometimes things are better known when you use your invisible senses.
Sometimes words mean nothing.
Sometimes principles are unseen articles in a small box of mind.
Sometimes the power of the values that the society develops wins the game.
Sometimes you don’t realize that you’re losing, when you think you’re winning.
Sometimes the truth is deceiving.
And the deceits are the truth.

When it happens, which should we trust?

But ourselves.
Then again, we fool ourselves, as well.
Tell lies and mislead our thoughts to think positively, when it’s not.
If heart had eyes and ears, we folded them tightly that they couldn’t say anything.
Even if they managed to slip through the smallest hole of escapade, we accused them liars.
When they actually helplessly screamed the reality.

I’m getting bored in putting the bet.
In believing that what I think exists does exist.
In convincing myself that I have my lost half somewhere.
That I’m just temporarily living in the dark.

But I live.
I breathe.
I struggle.
And I survive.

No matter how many evils tell me to give up the hope.
I’ll keep on longing.
Cause that’s what makes me myself.

So myself,
Let me introduce you to myself again.
I’m Carla.
A girl who lives by hopes.
A special God creature that doesn’t believe in impossibility.
One of the very few people in the world that credits love.
For love is my air, water, soil and fire.
Something I can’t live without.

Do not ever forget that.
Cause I am you.
I am me.
I am myself.
Remember that, and you’ll survive.
You’ll live.

Good bye, doubts.
Welcome, tears.
Good bye, Mark.
Welcome back, myself.
11.00 WIB Called Blue Bird taxi and picked Rina up to the airport.

Juanda airport, Surabaya:

It took soooo long to check in. I was getting impatient again. What the hell were those people doing in front of me? I sharpened my hearing and laughed not long after. What made it long WAS those people, who brought like tons of boxes along with them, insisted to bring all those into the cabin. When the Citilink staff told them that it was the regulation to collect the heavy big things and keep them in the luggage storage, the people reasoned that it wasn't safe. So yeah, the deal was mostly to convince these rarely flying people that their belongings would be safely kept and given back to them.
Anyway, when it was my turn, it took less than 3 minutes to check in.

We were boarding at 12:30 (flight at 12:45) and the plane left on time. Yippee... 1 point for Citilink.

Selaparang airport, Mataram:
15:00 WITA

We waited for our luggage in a very small room. I was a little shocked to see it. But yeah, what can I expect from a small domestic airport. There was only one roda berjalan (don't know the right English term, not even sure I use the right Indonesian term, hehehe) and we had to wait until the Garuda passengers took all their belongings. It was about 30-45 minutes wasted for waiting.

We got out and looked for a transport to Kuta Lombok, but it was super expensive (or I was just too stingy)!!! Rp 120,000 for one way ride. So we took a taxi to Senggigi beach for Rp 35,000 (Mataram Rp 20,000 but what could we see in Mataram? and the Gili's Rp 50,000). After that we could decide where to go later.

Ray Hotel, Senggigi

We stayed at Hotel Ray in Senggigi in a fan room for Rp 40,000 (I wasn't in the mood to bargain. I paid only half of it anyway, Rina paid the other half). AC's Rp 60,000. At first we wanted to take the AC one but no room was available. Later we were quite happy with our clean room. Besides, it wasn't very hot there.

Rina and I rested until 5 o'clock. Then we walked out to find the beach.

Walking... walking... walking... Where is the beach?

Rina said, "Well you've been here before!"
"Well it should have been in front of the hotel!" I told her.

Walking... walking... walking...
We went to the wrong direction. (Walah)

I saw a bemo and asked Rina to be adventurous. "Hey, what about hopping in that bemo and just following its route? We can stop when we saw a good site!"
Rina agreed.

I asked the driver where it was going. "To Ampenan," he said.
"Great!" We jumped in and he started to drive.

"Where is Ampenan?" (hihihi..)

One lesson about Lombok.
Ampenan (the port), Cakranegara and Mataram (the capital of the province) are actually different disctricts. But they are mostly associated to be one for their closeness and their important functions.

The driver asked us where we wanted to go.
"We don't know," replied us. (hohoho)

But not long after, we saw a veeeeeery cool beach and we shouted excitedly and asked the driver to stop right away. The driver suggested to drop us to the next turn in Batu Bolong temple. Even better, I thought.

To enter the temple we must contribute some money (amount is not important, but I wrote Rp 5,000; to find out later that I only had Rp 4,000! Ya ampun! Rina didn't bring any small money, either) and exchanged it with a single piece of yellow selendang to be tied around our waist. The old lady just smiled to see us and told us not to worry about the money. 4000 would be OK, she said.
"Terima kasih, Ibu!!!"


The clouds gathered and made a nice formation with a hollow hole in the middle, where the sunlight got through and created an incredible effect that I don't think Photoshop CS and a pro digital manipulator could do.

Heaven above..

I shot sooo many photos with Gabus' camera (Thanks, Bus!) and got a lot of beautiful nature photos with Rina as my model (I mean... sillhouette model. Hehehehe)

Pura Batu Bolong, Senggigi

Sunset in Pura Batu Bolong, Senggigi. Model: Rina.


There were 2 children playing nearby. I greeted them but they were just too shy to have their photos taken. But they kept following us. There was also an old man in traditional Hindu clothing who smiled at us. And later we were talking about the great nature and how we should bless our good life. It was comforting.

The old man left and the children still sticked around. I decided to bribe them.

"Hey tell you what. I'll buy you some roasted corn outside the temple, but you must let me take your pics."

They were happy with the idea. Hihihi... gotcha.

They're my first paid models. Hahaha... Cheap, though. One roasted corn cost Rp 1,000. Hahaha...

Erna and Fauzi

It was fun today.
Dearest Admirers,

I'm going to Lombok island for nine days - 20 May to 28 May, so I will not be active for a while. So will my cellphone, for it's a CDMA phone. I exchanged phones with my bro's girlfriend and will be using my GSM number for the time being. If it's urgent and you really need to get in touch with me, you can ask my number to Vei. Thank you in advance, Pei Pei. Hihihihi...

So, see you around in two weeks or so.

It's Vei's birthday today. Like some other Indonesian girls, she's requested her birthday present a month in advance. It was when I brought a chocolate cake for my workmates. She wanted the same thing for her birthday. I agreed, since I'm a sucker in choosing presents for people.

Joyfully she reminded me last night, that I promised to bake her some cake. But at that time she changed her request to chocolate bolu, instead. I said no and I'd stick to the chocolate cake.

I was considering to bake the cake early this morning or last night. But as soon as Denni took me home, I collapsed in my bed, exhaustedly. And in the morning I woke up early as usual, even earlier cause I planned to bake, but found my mother using the kitchen to prepare our breakfast. I sighed and thought, "Ok, I'll do it later after school. I'll go home, instead of going to my website office directly, and prepare the cake."

I arrived home at ten, decided which cake I was going to make, brought my precious cookbook to the minimarket and shopped. I was back a half hour later and started baking. It was a more special cake I was making. Sarcher Totre. A chocolate cake with some hagelslag filling, covered by chocolate and I planned to write something on top of it with white cooking chocolate. While mixing the butter and sugar, I'd already imagine Nyoh took the picture of the cake with her camera and me and Vei were posing with it.

It took a bit long to do the whole thing but finally I got done with it at half to twelve. The baking time is 35 minutes so I'd certainly be late to work if I had to decorate the top. But it was what I wanted and that was I would do.
Singing, I put it in the oven and left it while I prepared myself for work (shower etc).

Thirty five minutes later I was dressed and ready to take the cake out of the oven. It was so hot! And remembering my bad bad past experiences with heat, hot oil, boiled water etc in the kitchen, I was freaking out. Tante Ana offered to get the cake out and I gladly accepted it.

It smelled soooo good when the oven's door opened. Tante Ana used two thin napkins to hold the tin when my mother suggested her to use the cooking gloves, instead. She refused and said she could handle it. Apparently the napkins were not enough and the oven was too hot. She let go the tin when it only reached the opened oven's cap, thinking it was strong enough to hold the cake tin for a while. But of course it couldn't. Before you finished counting to five the tin fell down, followed by the traditional oven. The cake was jumbled out, ruined and joined my filthy untiled dark kitchen floor while Tante Ana jumped backward to avoid the oven falling onto her feet.

I was stunned eternally. Didn't believe what I saw.

My hard work.
My unfulfilled promise to Veve.
What should I tell her?
My hard work.

Forced to be back to reality, I sighed heavily and mumbled, "Ok. There's nothing can be done about it."

Hurrying, I ordered a becak and rushed to the office.
So.. yeah... Vei.. if you read it, forgive me. :( I tried and I failed. It was an accident, I SWEAR!

And happy birthday. *hug*
Listening to: Jack Johnson - Gone

Well.. what can I say? Things have not been going too well lately. That should explain my long absence in this blogging world.

Mark is not coming this May. He's not coming this year. I'm not even sure if he's coming at all. He's been quite "in a distance" during our workdays but he's still charming as always on the phone. BUT... there's something missing. Or maybe it's the selfish me that craves too much attention from him. But in short, I am feeling that he's losing his interest in me.

It saddens me a lot in a way. I know some of you told me not to put any big hope in men/relationships, but my principle didn't allow me to think like that. I have to believe and I want to believe, cause it's what will happen. That's what I believe. But maybe I'm not that correct.

I'm an independent woman. I don't think I'm asking too much from a man... but again, maybe it's just my feeling towards myself. Maybe I'm not like that in others' eyes. Maybe I just don't do enough. I don't share enough. I don't care enough. But didn't I?

I miss his emails, his cheerful voice on the phone, his chats, his encouragement, his passion, his laugh, his everything. It's still there vaguely when we finally are able to chat and talk.. but it wasn't like it used to be. Or am I starting to act like a big fat nagging unsatisfied greedy wife? Is it just my feeling or is it the truth... that he's keeping some distance from me?

Maybe it was me? Maybe I said something wrong? Maybe I scared him with my deviance? If so, why doesn't he tell me that? He asked me from the very beginning to be always true to him and I've tried my best. Shouldn't he do the same? Or is everything actually JUST OK and it's just my stupid insecurities?

Maybe I don't call enough. Maybe I don't email enough. Maybe I don't care enough. Well.. I did try to balance the atmosphere. I seriously did. I tried to call him a lot of times but I was just too often brought to his voice mailbox. And when I could indeed get through to talk to him, he was now and again in a hurry of catching the train or in a restaurant or on a car journey.

I was tickled too many times last week to reveal what was going on between us by asking this scary question of: "Is it not working between the two of us?" But I was just too anxious to do it. I care a big deal about Mark and I do have to admit I'm afraid of losing him. So I thought I gave it a try on fixing things by calling him again last weekend.
Well suddenly we were talking like the first time we talked. And once again I was happy. I was all smiley the whole day and grew my dying hope back to life. He hasn't changed. He's still the sweetest person. He's still the Mark I know.

Until yesterday.
Until today.

I really don't have any idea what the hell is wrong. But he is so remote. So away. Is it just workdays syndromme or is it me or is it us or is it whatever I think it is???

I'm so insecured. Sooo.. not loved. So alone.

I'm really scared. And maybe he is, too.
Of me.
Mark once asked me:

How do you feel towards yourself:
  1. Are you completely straight - into men and never get attracted to women, that is?
  2. Or are you very much into the same sex and don't have any single chemistry for the opposite? A lesbian, in shorter definition.
  3. Or do you consider yourself a bisexual, where you can get both sexes anytime it's possible and suits you?
I replied, "I belong to the first category."
On the other line he said, "Why?"
"Cause I am. I love guys. There's something going on with my physical and emotional reaction when I'm attracted to one. I've never sensed any horniness or nauseating admiration towards girls. I even feel it a bit sickening for me to just imagine to be one, though I don't mind the existence of homosexual people."

But I do have some experience about it.

Lately I felt very much annoyed by Erlita, one of the English teachers at MLT. We both teach at St. Clara elementary school and are partners in teaching the second graders. I've known her since we were still studying at Widya Mandala University, but we were never close. Still are not.

Apparently she's very fond of touching me recently. She likes to stroke my shoulders, back, sides, the flesh directing my butt area and sometimes when we are sitting, my outer thighs. The act disgusts me just SO MUCH it's grossing me out everytime I meet her at school. She even does it lightly in front of the class!!!

I smacked her hand hard everytime she does that and do complain about it. A lot. Aloud. But she didn't seem to get the very very clear message I've been trying to send her and keeps "joking". *sigh*
That's actually one of the things I'd love to get rid of when I finish this academic year, which is in about a month. *counting down*

I had this friend when I was back at uni, named Dea. We used to hang out together with the other friends in the weekend and during the short breaks between the classes. Well she was very well known of being loud and vain, but she was very fond of guys and would proudly announce to us that she did this and that with this guy and that guy. We were often disturbed by her lousy acts sometimes, when she started to bluff about the older men she liked to date. But at least we knew that she was normal.

We were wrong.

One evening, she came to my house by taxi. Weepingly she told me that her parents just got divorced and it broke her heart too much. She asked me if she could stay the night at my place at that time, and I let her.
She looked very desperate. I took a pity on her and accompanied her chatting and gossiping until past midnight. Then came this idea of having a truth or dare game.

We spent probably half an hour just to answer each other's questions, cause we always chose truth -- which was not pretty much fun remembering the truth was not really a secret between us. So when it was my turn to pick, I chose dare. I thought she wouldn't ask me too stupid thing to do since it was already late at night. Again, I was wrong.

She dared me to seduce her by nuzzling her ears.


I refused to do the dare, of course. And asked her to dare me something else. (Truth or Dare is not really an Indonesian game. So we were a bit confused what should be done if we did not want to do the dare) She refused it. She said I had to do it whether I liked it or not. Ggggrrrr!!!

Luckily it was in my house. I had the authority to kick her out of it anytime I wanted. And FYI: I still didn't do it. And it was just the time when I decided to never let her stay at my house again.

Do you have any similar experience?
Which type of sexuality is it in you?
And what would you do if you were in my position?

Tell me. Cause I still have that one problem at present. I believe Erlita is straight. But remembering Dea's case, I can't be that sure, either. So how do I stop her touching me? I had already been as evil as possible to her but she is simply too slow to take it!

Help me.
"Will you marry me?"
(Screaming and jumping towards the man on the other side of the table, the girl exclaimed) "YES, YES YES, I WILL!"

Not long after the couple walked side by side down a white-lilies-covered aisle heading to the preacher who would take their marriage vows.

And they lived happily ever after.


That's what most romance novels write.
That's what most girls expect.
That's what most parents want their children to experience.
That's what most people long for.
That's what most soap operas bluff about.

But do the average married couple have the same thing? I don't think so.
Is the number of divorced/separated couples big or small? I suppose small.
Even if they're in one marriage institution, does it make them all happy? No, not all surely.
How many children suffer from the divorced families? A LOT!
Why am I being so negative? I'm not!!! I'm just stating the truth!

April might not be a good month for relationships or marriages. At almost the same time I witnessed both my sisters had a big big problem in their marriage. It tore me into pieces when they cried. It burnt my heart when I heard about their husbands' betrayals. And it boiled my emotion up when they screamed for happiness, but failed to get it. Instead, they are stuck with a child and in a dilemma whether they should fight for their love or give it up for the sake of their dignity.

Cynthia is my older step sister. She's about ten years older than I am and has a sixteen-year-old daughter called Reta. She and her husband had a son a few years ago but he died of some disease they did not know. Anyway.. Cynthia and Rendy, her husband, live and work in Jakarta (they adore the hustling bustling city, I don't know why). While Reta stays with her grand parents in Surabaya. Sometimes (OK, a lot of times) she stays and sleeps at my house and leaves many stocks of her clothings at our home. Her parents don't come back here often to visit her but once a year in Hari Raya. So it surprised me when in one hot day last month, I found Cynthia in my room, red eyed, talking with my mother in such an emotional tone.
I discovered what went wrong no sooner than a couple of minutes that Rendy cheated on her, again. She repeated the story for me again while weeping every now and then and asked for a solution on her case. I was stunned and had not yet answered the question properly when Ita, my direct younger sister burst in and revealed her own nasty story with A Lung, her husband, who is now in Tarakan.

In Cynthia's case, both husband and wife work. But apparently she makes more money than Rendy and it seems that he gets disappointed and "ashamed" of it. Second reason, they work at different hours. When Cynthia leaves for work, Rendy is still sound asleep. When she gets home, tired and drained, she directly goes to bed and hardly talks to her husband. With the condition of the traffic in Jakarta, one should go to work as early as possible and leave work as late as possible when the streets are not busy. This is one of those factors that prevents them to often meet, share feelings and affection and communicate to each other.
This seemed to be the biggest reason why Rendy started flirting with a cashier woman in his work place.
In an odd way, Cynthia found it out from Rendy's other workmates that called her about her husband's behaviour. Rendy was going to Surabaya to celebrate Reta's birthday (he said). But instead of doing that, he went to his mistress in Magelang and was almost ready to marry her. [He was about to claim a divorce]

While Ita has always been a rude girl in her past twenty three years living in this world. In early meetings with someone, though, she can be too sweet and "charming". She declared A Lung as her boyfriend three or four years ago and decided to get into tying herself up to him in a marriage. It was a sad one, though. The bureaucracy in Surabaya was so annoying that it made it way too difficult for the couple to get their papers.

Reason: A Lung is not a Surabayan.
Another reason: He's Chinese.
Yet another reason: "Feed us some money, please. And we'll take care of your papers."

No wonder this country never succeeds in anything. Cheats are everyday's consumes, also in the government. Especially in the government!
So Ita booked a plane ticket to A Lung's hometown, Bangka island, and got married there. My mother was asked to come and be there as well, but she refused. She was very negative with A Lung at that time and she didn't give her and him a blessing for the wedding. She didn't even attend Michelle's birth. She didn't seem to care about it. And that was already a bad start.
First marriage in the family, and nobody in her side attended it. I was so sorry for Ita.

Now, as Michelle grows up as a soooo beautiful and active and fat baby, everybody is in love with her. But to make the family's condition better, A Lung's tried his luck in Tarakan, a small city in Kalimantan island. He appeared to be more successful there that he had to go there back and forth for business matter. At one certain point, he decided to stay there longer than usual, to save the money for the tickets. Ok, that was quite a reason. So Ita stayed at my house for a month, they promised.

It became two months.
Three months.
Four months.
Five months.

Would he ever be going back?
Ita got depressed and insisted to go after him. He then sent her two tickets for her and Michelle and so flew the mother and daughter to Tarakan.

The visit turned out to be a filthy discovery. Ita said she fought with A Lung all the time (I've always been so concerned about it, since Ita seemed to never realise and control her own hurtful words towards people. And she also does it to her man). So he left her and went back at 4 or 5 in the morning. When she asked him where he was, he said he went to a discotheque. When she asked him if he took a drug, he said yes. When she asked him if she played with another woman, he said he did, for he was flying. Ita cried and went back to Surabaya with Michelle.

Things are going worse for both Cynthia and Ita. I don't know when it will end.. but I've been trying to encourage my little sister to not look at the past, but to plan the future. I've taught her some of the most important and wellknown Carla's wisdoms and I hope she'll be able to stand up and be on her own soon. Independent. Like me.

Ita and Cynthia told me: "DON'T ever get married, Carla! Cause you'll suffer like us. Stay single, and you'll be always happy like you are now."

But I don't believe it. I will never believe it. It is love that makes me smile. It is love that makes me laugh. It is love that makes me alive. It is love that makes me happy.
So it brings sadness once in a while -- there are indeed the words of "betrayal", "cheat on", "unfaithful" etc in the dictionary, you know. Cause love also brings us deep heavy tears. Cause that's the sign! You're NOT in love if you don't feel insecured sometimes. It is not a love when you never feel sad, jealous, angry and mad at your partner sometimes.

So yeah, I'll take the risk! I don't want to become one of those cynical hypocrite people who claim that they don't need love in their life. Cause that's bullshit! Everyone needs love. And so are you. And so am I. And I'm going to get it. Sooner or later. That must be someone for me out there, despite of the bad relationships in this world. I'd like to think there is.

There is.