Look what I found yesterday! Roti Sisir!
Ibu used to buy me and my brother these when we were kids. I loved, loved the taste of it and even for my brother, the food was heavenly gift. Hahahaha. We were very gullible back then that made Ibu the happiest mother ever.
To me now, the taste of Roti Sisir reminds me of home and my childhood. I miss home and Ibu and my baby brother a lot.
When the power went down the other day I freaked out because my mp3 player almost died out, my cellphone -- fortunately -- still powered up, but the laptop, the poor thing would only run for 15 minutes before it passes out without power supply. [And I should've probably put my hair-dryer into the picture as well: my one and only saving grace for this crazy hair.] It made me jittery just thinking about it.
But who wouldn't, anyways?
Came back home at 9 pm.
But I'm *beaming* with satisfaction and feeling of accomplishment.
I am in this big project at my work place that I'm finally enjoying. It's something to do with my workplace's website development. Oh, the thrill!
My team and I were sitting with this graphic designer guy, that we bugged, tortured, terrorized, and abused with every single insane detail that we kept on changing all the time. Because, honestly, we HAD NOT A SINGLE CLUE of what we wanted to incorporate into the web design. So, it was mostly trial-and-error method we used as the approach. But we had a great time. A nice artsy, not to mention legal, way to escape from boring job routines for us, although not so much for the poor guy.
We were working non-stop from 11 am till the clock hit 9 pm and we hadn't finished it yet. But I'm haaappppyyyy, and really looking forward on how the web is going to end up looking like. :D
For serious, it made me start thinking that I might should find another job in this kind of field. I have always felt sort of an artsy pantsy kind of person ever since I was little.
When I was in elementary school, I made the best, fine-finished, carton cube that was my school assignment. And I always enjoyed making my own hand-made birthday cards to give to my friends and cousins. And making bookmarks, posters for my school drama club performance, and wall decorations, and the list goes on. Oh, the old time!
My drawer was always full chocked with art making tools: scissors -- all kinds of them, an extensive collection of crayons, pencils, and markers in ALL colors, crepe papers, all kinds of glue, and other strange knick knacks that I worshiped with all my young artsy soul.
I could sit and spend HOURS to design and redesign my artwork, and cut my colour recyled textured paper in the smallest precision, and glue it neatly, and draw it with some silly-looking animals, and hand-write it in fancy letters, and stick some beads and stars on it, and put paper rope on, and decorate it with potpourri. I could stand the painful meticulous job and then pat my own back over the artwork I finished and made a little jump and got really giddy to start my next art project. I was an art nerd. And I was loving it.
Maybe I'm just in the WRONG job. Who knows, right?
I love, love, love listening to this song: in the morning, at noon, in the evening, in the middle of my typing my paperworks, printing out documents at my office, while walking back home, when I feel like losing my sanity over the awful deadlines, as I was waiting for a friend at a cafe that came really late, or right before I went to bed at night. Something about this song soothes my nerve down and makes me want to always feel romantic.
Well, I have not the slightest idea who this Oren Lavie dude is -- other than the fact that he was once singing in this live variety TV show with a red furry Muppet-sort of thingy creeping on his back and trying not to giggle before he finished up the song which I saw on youtube [aww.. sweetness..] -- but he sure knows how to write good songs.
The song is titled Her Morning Elegance and the lady in the clip is super sweet and pretty, like a newly-washed towel. Hehe. Or ... (fill the dots with your favourite sweet and pretty stuff).
This is the monologue from the last scene of '2 Days in Paris'. ♥ Sweetness ♥
Hey, I'm having a day off since today is ELECTION DAY! Boo hoo!
I planned to go out and about today to do stuff, but it's already 4 pm and I'm still home. I surprised myself for my endurance browsing e-trash (and writing a blog post) in between watching TV for election up-dates the whole day long.
According to election quick-count, seems like the big guy wins again. Which is good, I think. He seems like somebody dependable, despite his failures, if you may call so, nailing down a couple or more goals in the last period's presidency. Well, people put a lot of hope on his shoulders and it's never easy to lead a country as massive as Indonesia. Well, you can't make everybody happy, but I guess you can always bring happiness to the majority of people.
Anyways, the buzz won't stop until at least the next couple of weeks, so my two cents here won't count much.
So, I'm going to go some place else before my butt sticks permanently to the chair. Whatta nice election day.
ps. Did you vote? I skipped. Hoho. :D
img credit: head banner of SBY presidency campaign website
It's always work. Always work. Never the others. My life has been pretty much sucked into this ridiculous circle of work, that becomes a routine and a never-ending list of to-do's. The hustle and bustle of it has become something very uninspiring to me, even less to other people that's supposed to matters the most to me.
"I was part of that strange race of people aptly described as spending their lives doing things they detest to make money they don’t want to buy things they don’t need to impress people they dislike." – Emile Henry Gauvreau
All this, makes me rethinking my whole objective of my existence in my current work place. I have to think 1000 times to take a leave. It's not good. I can no longer live day by day keep thinking about targets and deadlines 24/7. It has even got into my dreams. Nightmare, actually.
"You make what seems a simple choice: choose a man or a job or a neighborhood — and what you have chosen is not a man or a job or a neighborhood, but a life." – Jessamyn West
Please excuse my utterly unimportant mumblings. I just need to write this down.
On a sunnier side, I bought myself a pair of brand new shoes. In the name of sanity, and self-indulgence. :D
I listened to this song yesterday from my "Queen: Live in Wembley" DVD. I am an avid fan of Queen, and I believed I had never listened to this song before: I'm In Love With My Car. Can't be more self-explanatory.
Until yesterday. With popping eyes, wrinkling forehead and utter confusion, I snorted myself laughing so hard: the song is aptly horrifying yet genius at the same time. A bunch of genius self-centered car-obsessed pricks.
And oh boy, you should listen and see the way Roger Taylor sang the song. I had never even once known anybody that SANG the infatuation he has with a CAR in such a PROUD and LOUD mannerism. Sounds kinda disturbing, though.
And to make it even more hilarious, you may learn new specific automobile vernaculars AND the how-to guide of becoming a lousy-ass boyfriend, all through listening to this one song. And it even RHYMES, people.
"Told my girl I just had to forget her,
Rather buy me a new carburettor"
I can tell I was a bit disappointed. Well, just because I love my head, buddy, which I do, doesn't mean that I should sing it out loud.
But hey, rock on.
I'm in Love with My Car
The machine of a dream, such a clean machine.
With the pistons a pumpin', and the hubcaps all gleam.
When I'm holding your wheel,
All I hear is your gear,
When my hands on your grease gun,
Oh it's like a disease son,
I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile,
Get a grip on my boy racer rollbar,
Such a thrill when your radias squeal.
Told my girl I just had to forget her,
Rather buy me a new carburettor,
So she made tracks sayin' this is the end now,
Cars don't talk back they're just four wheeled friends now,
When I'm holding your wheel,
All I hear is your gear,
When I'm cruisin' in overdrive,
Don't have to listen to no run of the mill talk jive,
I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile,
I'm in love with my car, string back gloves in my automobile!
Warning: This is going to be rant #158.342.777 ever written about Jakarta's traffic. [yawn. boring]
A couple of weeks ago, I took a taxi to get me to a place in Senayan. You now ask, "So?". I say, dear friend, it's the part where you may call me wanker for taking a taxi at 3 o'clock on a Friday through Thamrin - Sudirman - Senayan, in other words, road to hell. I said to myself, what were you thinkin', on a Friday at three? Definitely not smart.
The not-so-far trip that can take up to 20 minutes sans traffic now needed an additional 60 minutes to schlep my hastened ass to my destination. Not a smart option, because I could've taken a Trans Jakarta instead, which I didn't. Definitely not smart.
On my way back to the office, it was already 5 o'clock [this time I took a Trans Jakarta ride that put me back to Monas]. I still had to take another connecting ride to get me to the office. It was one crazy irritating sweaty afternoon that I told my irritated self that I HAD to get me a taxi dammit. Which was apparently not a smart choice, because it was traffic all over again and all taxis were taken. Under the baring balmy sun. Definitely not smart.
Another 20 minutes passed by, and still no available taxi. I decided to walk QUITE SOME DISTANCE to the next junction where, I expected, I could find more taxis. A not so smart choice to walk, because I was in my HIGH HEELS. Definitely not smart.
Anyways.
Today as I went back home from an task outside the office, I took a TRANS JAKARTA, instead of a TAXI, because I wanted to be smart this time, beside the fact that every single bloody taxi in Jakarta had bloody passengers in it. I didn't expect the Trans Jakarta trip would be a long rocky one in a wheeled machined-auto box that almost exploded with rubbing-elbows, rubbing-shoulders, and rubbing-egos. I was one of them rubbing my you-name-it. Wearing my HIGH HEELS. Definitely not smart. Ah, wanker, Esti!
Anyhow, I am home now. I thank God that it only takes 12 minutes [which I have shortened into a new record of 7 minutes] for me to get to my office desk from the doorstep of my very room. Now Jakarta, you eat my dust.
Okay. That's all. I told you it's nothing but a rant. It's a boring rant.
Moral of the story: I say, high heel is the epitome of all the schmuckness in public-transportation users.
