post #2

"What and If are two words as non-threatening as words can be. But put them together side-by-side and they have the power to haunt you for the rest of your life."

-Letters to Juliet, 2010

it's written in stones

I wrote, on the left top side of this blog, that my current wish list is (was?) to have a temporary brainwash.

I understand a lot of people are pissed when someone else forgets about something. They go berserk when their mom forgets to pick up the grocery or when their brother forgets to lock the car or when someone else forgets doing something. And don't get me wrong; me too. I hate it when people forget. But I recently discovered that sometimes it is good to forget.

I am an avid forget-ter. That's right, I just made the word up.

I even forgot how old my sister just turned and wrote Happy 25th in the birthday cake instead of 26th. (long story.) I forget about plans I make a long time ago, I forget about promises I swore to keep, about people I'm supposed to meet and things I'm supposed to do. But one fleeting moment last week made me realize that forgetting works both ways; that sometimes it's not always bad. So here's the thing.

I am scared to death about flying. Maybe it's the Air Crash Investigation re-reruns in Nat Geo Channel, maybe it's the image of exploding plane in Final Destination,maybe's it's 9/11, or maybe it's simply the fact that we are thousands of feet above ground accompanied by strangers with small square windows as our emergency exit options. It's better when I'm in there with people I love; but when it's a business trip, I clam up and nod and smile very nervously at the stewardess (extra note: Garuda tends to have rude stewardess. more on that later.)

Last week I had to fly to another city for work. Alone. Well not really alone, but my guests were seated far from me so yes, I was alone and sat squeezed between two unknown strangers. (They were nice! One of them slept while the other one kept talking. We had a nice chat. I found out he has kids, he hates big cities like Jakarta, and yes, the news coverage on Merapi has been slightly exaggerated because he himself lives in Jogja.) So anyway. Everyone knows that the most terrifying moments during a flight is when you take off and you land, right. Taking off was smooth, but seconds before the landing, the plane swayed a little.

I gripped the seat so hard that I stopped listening to my new friend's story. I closed my eyes, started praying silently, wishing it would just be over already, and..

...fell asleep.

I know, right?! Instant "temporary brainwash". I actually dozed off and when I opened my eyes, startled, the plane has landed already. Woohoo! Couldn't help being so proud of myself.

So anyway, there's a real living proof that sometimes forgetting is a good thing.

It sounds like a lame example. But still.

And besides being a forgetter, I'm also an avid detail-er. This, I've noticed quite a long time ago. It's not like I'm a perfectionist, hell no. I just like paying attention to details in something; or someone. Paying attention down to what they're wearing and saying and expressions when we meet face to face and their quirks. To their way of communicating. The music they listen to (trust me, it says a lot). The books they read. The way they write. Their body language. Which is why I often notice it when someone begins to change. The second they change, it's like their brain snaps and starts shifting directions,leaving their routines behind and sending invisible alerts like a warning.

This detail-er thingy; I haven't quite figured out whether this is a good or a bad thing. Whether this is good for temporary brainwashing; or make you wish you'd never noticed them in the first place instead.

post #1

She told him, "I wanted you to be ordinary; common; bland; usual;uninteresting; un-memorable."

February, 2010

1409

co·in·ci·dence   /koʊˈɪnsɪdəns/
–noun
1. a striking occurrence of two or more events at one time apparently by mere chance.

—Synonyms
1. accident, luck, fate.

I love this town.

You would think I'm crazy, seeing the post title. Me, whose nationalism is already going down the drain. Me, who almost never watches local shows and TV stations and just smiles and nods along when someone is talking about some local celebrities I've only heard and never seen, not even in TV. Me, who would be the first in line to deliver my harsh opinion on Indonesian bands and movies. Whose biggest dream is to get out of this messy jam-packed hellhole and book a one-way ticket abroad. Whose proudest moment to be linked to 'Indonesia' is when performing traditional dances.

But I love Jakarta when it's happy.

I love it when the town is being celebrated or when it's celebrating something, like Lebaran or Christmas. Everyone is in festive moods and cheering and happy and yelling gleefully and shouting joyfully and greeting strangers and praying together in the mosque and let's not forget the snacks for break-fasting. Streets are suddenly lined up with colorful drinks and foods in appealing food stalls and carts, sold at a very attractively low price.

I love the morning rush, the pre-dawn meal, the relief and gratefulness that echo throughout the town when the clock strikes 6 pm. I love overhearing conversations in the train when a woman says "DID YOU KNOW THAT--Oops, I can't gossip right now, I'm fasting." or a woman consoling her angry husband when a newspaper boy accidentally smacked his shoulder. or a non-Muslim opening his mouth to bite into a delicious apple but paused and put it back inside the plastic as he saw a woman wearing Muslims' veil next to him.

I love fasting month and I know I'm gonna love Lebaran. Fasting month is sadly coming to an end in the next two days and I hope, very sincerely, that all of us--including me and you who's reading this, whoever you are--will get another chance to improve ourselves in the next opportunity. There's always something to improve. No matter how often you pray or how religious you are, there's always something you know you can do better. Pray with more sincerity. Eat better. Drink better. Smile more. Fast more often. Donate more to the needy. Avoid anger and lies better. The next time you fast, do it with 110%.

See you in 2011, my favorite month of the year :)

Thank you, Ms Colbie Caillat.

"I guess there's always some things that will be left unsaid."

Take time to realize,
That your warmth is crashing down on me.
Take time to realize,
That I am on your side
Didn't I, Didn't I tell you ?

But I can't spell it out for you,
No it's never gonna be that simple
No I cant spell it out for you

If you just realize what I just realized,
Then we'd be perfect for each other
and will never find another
Just realized what I just realized
we'd never have to wonder if
we missed out on each other now.

Take time to realize
Oh-oh I'm on your side
didn't I, didn't I tell you.
Take time to realize
This all can pass you by.. Didn't I tell you ?

But I can't spell it out for you,
no its never gonna be that simple
no I can't spell it out for you.

If you just realized what I just realized
then we'd be perfect for each other
then we'd never find another
Just realized what I just realized
we'd never have to wonder if
we missed out on each other now.

It's not always the same
no it's never the same
if you don't feel it too.
If you meet me half way
If you would meet me half way.
It could be the same for you ..

Jekyll & Hyde

A cheesecake and a plain cookie are sitting side by side on the counter table, behind the display window in a small bakery shop. Cheesecake is whistling, but Cookie's lips are turned down in a frown.

"What's with the frown?" Cheesecake asked, concerned. "It's a beautiful day outside and we just got out of the oven, freshly baked and heated--you should be smiling like me!"

"Oh, hi," Cookie said, not showing enthusiasm. "yeah. You know. Nothing's up."

"Do you mind sharing? Far as I know, the shop's still empty so I don't think anyone will order us yet...Besides, that new guy Pretzel is basking all the attention nowadays."

Cheesecake's genuine humor eventually got into Cookie, who glanced sideways at her friend and smiled sadly. "I just heard that my Chef will make me a raisin cookie today."

Silence.

Cheesecake frowned, "So what? I don't understand. You're a plain cookie; anything can be your filling, including raisins. Is that why you look so gloomy today?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous," Cookie sighed, her mood lowering even more. "But I don't expect you to understand. You're so lucky you have a great Chef who completely understands what you need without you saying it out loud. The thing is, I hate raisins. And I just heard that my Chef will bake me into fruit-filled cookie next. I mean, doesn't he understand me at all?"

"Have you tried telling him about this?"

Cookie glared at her friend. "Are you kidding? If you meant whether I've tried telling him about this for the twentieth time, then the answer's no."

"Hmm. Then what filling would you like to be baked in?"

"I don't know, normal ones!" Cookie cried. "The ones that I like! Marshmallow cream! White chocolate! God, even the most usual, predictable, boring one: chocolate chip! I love colors, so why doesn't he put M&Ms inside me? I can even be blended with an ice cream when I'm in crumbles! The options are endless, but why does my Chef always pick the ones that disinterest me?"

"Maybe your Chef needs to get to know you better so he can learn what you like. For example, my Chef always makes sure I get two cherries on top instead of one. It's the way I like it." Cheesecake paused. "I'm sorry for your trouble. But why don't you just escape then? Run away, fall down from the table like other desserts do. Abandon your Chef if you can't take it anymore! There are a lot of great Chefs out there."

Cookie's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Aw, please don't start crying," Cheesecake's smile turned upside down, and she edged closer to her friend. A few grated cheese fell off her body. "So why can't you take a distance from your Chef?"

"It's guilt." Cookie sobbed. "I can just turn around and escape from the oven like everybody else. I can run away and find new Chefs like everybody else. But I can't abandon someone who made me who I am today; he made me from scratch. I know he gets up early in the morning to find the best flour and dough and sugar to make me like this. I can't just turn my back on someone like that, even though my affections for him are already almost gone. I feel for him, but on the other hand I know he will never deeply understand what i want, and more importantly. what I need. And the most irritating thing of all is that other desserts can't seem to understand--look at you, for example. You practically looked at me like I was crazy when I first told you the reason behind my mood today. It's not that I'm spoiled and gets offended easily, pissed off just because I'm about to be filled with raisins. But this has been going on for a long time, is it really that hard to be understood?

To want sweet cream instead of raisins? Marshmallows instead of nuts? What else do I have to do to show that I DON'T LIKE THIS and I WANT THAT instead? How long has my Chef been baking me? Years! Years and he still doesn't know that I like to be baked moist instead of dark."

"You know what your biggest mistake is?" Cheesecake asked softly. "You let yourself think that there is a great Chef out there who always fulfills your wishes, your desires, for you; even without you saying it out loud. Like a Chef who reads your mind. Perfect Chefs-Do you really believe they exist?"

Without any hesitation, Cookie said, "Absolutely."

Cheesecake smiled. "You probably thought everything is so perfect with me and my Chef, but it's not. Yes, he reads my mind and knows exactly what I want, but it doesn't mean we don't have any other problems. And he doesn't read my mind all the time either. Sometimes, I have to keep reminding him."

At that point, the display glass slide open and a slice of dark chocolate on a plate swooped in. Her almost-black exterior glittered under the harsh light. She's also known as the Devil's Cake. "Hee-hee!" she greeted, grinning mischievously. "I was sitting outside on the table, waiting for some dumbass to come buy me, but I heard your conversation very clearly." She turned her menacing eyes at Cookies. "And you, my friend, are incredibly stupid."

Cookie looked at her, stunned, and Cheesecake rolled her eyes.

Devil's Cake went on, "You don't stay with someone just because he's nice. When someone's nice, smile! Or in my case, don't." she chuckled at her own joke. "Anyway, why are you still here? Go run out from this dump! I'll help you escape."

"Cookie, don't listen to her." Cheesecake took a deep breath, "If you wanna stay, stay. Work it out. Give another go."

"Another go? I thought she was stupid, but you're incurable!" Devil's Cake cackled. "How many chances does a person deserve when it comes to your own happiness, let me ask you? Do you think we'll live that long, really? Do you think that fat guy sitting right there will not eagerly come to this display window and pick us for his after-dessert dessert? Don't you think, as a good friend," she mocked a sad face, "you should let Cookie find another Chef and more importantly, find her own happiness, finally?"

Cookie was torn, as her friends debated in front of her face. She looked down, sad. She remembered how caring and attentive her Chef has been, but also how completely clueless he was, despite all her warnings and advises.

She had never felt so confused.

"...But she said earlier that she wants to find her own Perfect Chef!" Cheesecake was saying, jostling Cookie out of her thoughts. At that, Devil's Cake closed her mouth and glared at Cookie. Cheesecake sighed and turned to her, too.

"A Perfect Chef?!" Devil's Cake yelled, then laughed harshly. "I have lived in this desserts world long enough to know that n such thing exists. You are way dumber than I thought."

"Devil, stop saying how dumb she is."

"Cheesecake, mind your own cheese-topped head and bug off," Devil's Cake impersonated the cheese's tone mockingly.

"You two, shut up." Cookie cut them off, taking them both by surprise. She glanced left and right. "Help me get up there; I see an opening."

Without saying anything, Cheesecake hoisted the Cookie on its head. Cookie climbed up out of the display window carefully, scared she will dissolve into crumbles. After struggling for a few minutes, Cheesecake asked quietly, "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

Cookie closed her eyes, prayed with her heart pounding heavily, and took a jump. The highest jump she might ever take in her life. When she opened her eyes, she was landing safely on the marble counter table.

"You made it!" Devil's Cake did a victory dance. "You're not so stupid after all!"

Cookie ignored her and struggled to move so she was face-to-face with Cheesecake through a window glass. "Are you sure...?" Cheesecake repeated.

"I've been stuck in that window forever, being something I know I'm not," Cookie said. "I don't know if I will ever work for a Perfect Chef or will I ever find him. But," she smiled, fr the first time that day. "I'm free."

As other desserts watched longingly from inside the glass, Cookie winked at Cheesecake and turned around, relieved to see she was still in one piece. She didn't know where she was going next. She even had no idea how she was gonna go through the front door of the bakery. But the most important thing was, she made the jump.


And the feeling was surprisingly, overwhelmingly liberating.