MY BUSY AND SOCIAL AND FUN WEEKEND

MY BUSY AND SOCIAL AND FUN WEEKEND

It started on Friday evening. Gina’s family came from America, and they invited me and all the team to have dinner at the Korean barbeque restaurant. It was the second time I went there, and I just loved the food, including the bulgogi (note that I don’t usually eat beef, but this place is exceptional). I usually get nervous of being the only non-American, but I really enjoyed meeting Gina’s parents and the two other ‘gopher’ girls (i.e. her two pretty younger sisters, Betsy and Sally – btw I am still confused who is who). They were planning to go to Yogyakarta on Saturday morning, but I guess it was cancelled due to the earthquake.

Saturday morning, I went shopping and cooked my favorite broccoli chicken soup, served with buttered baguette. I shared it with some roommates and also Helen, and found out that she used to knit. In fact, she now is using a cool knitted blanket that she made her own. I told her about my hobby to crochet, and gave her a crocheted choker. She looked so thrilled to receive that. In the evening I started to work on a short story to be submitted for an annual contest. Still a long long way to go, but at least I have started. Then I stayed up late watching American Idol finale, and was glad that Katharine McPhee didn’t win. I used to like her and dislike Taylor, but he proved himself to be the best and I’m glad he won. It was such a spectacular show with lots of famous guests, including Dionne Worwick and Al Jarreau.

I woke up on Sunday morning earlier than I wanted to, because I had to work. Time is almost up and we still need more people to be tested. We went to a slum area in northern Jakarta, and as I gazed around, I realized the gap between that area with south Jakarta where I live, where everything looks nicer, cleaner, and of course, more pricey.

I had to skip lunch to be able to make it to Janet’s bridal shower afterwards. It was my first experience attending a bridal shower, and I liked it a lot. It was so much fun to shower a bride-to-be with love, attention, prayers and gifts. Janet got lots of sweetly wrapped gifts from the women (mostly lingerie for her honeymoon), and we had fun eating snacks and playing games, including a fiercely competitive toilet-paper dress-making competition. I just loved it! My team put layers and layers of TP on Kristina, trying our best to be creative and artistic, and we won!
I told Sandra, who organized it, that I would want one if I were getting married. She said it’s a western tradition and probably I have to get a western husband if I want one. Too bad Indonesians don’t do that. And when I get married later, I think all of my American friends will not be around anymore. Sigh!

CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S GONE.....

....HOME

Another summer day
Is come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another sunny place
I’m lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
But this was not your dream
But you always believe in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
And even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home

Let me go home
And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel alone

Oh, let go home
Oh, I miss you, you know
Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m doneI gotta go home

Let me go home
It will all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home

ELLIOTT YAMIN

My co-worker, who is well-known for his anti-social character and is famous for his remark “Marriage is a hideous display of sentimentality”, came to my desk one day and asked, “Do you follow American Idol this season?”
I shook my head. “Has it started yet?” I remembered seeing Carrie Underwood beat Bo Bice on the previous finale, and then my TV broke. Despite my desire to have it fixed before the world cup starts, my busyness had not allowed it to happen.
Anyway, he just wanted to share his grief because he just received an email from his friend who now lives in America, that his favorite finalist, Mandisa, had to go home.
I think it was Thursday, and usually the AI show is broadcast on Saturday night, several days later after the actual show.
So Saturday night that week, out of curiosity, I went to the living room of my new boarding house and switched on the TV at 11 pm to watch AI again, first time after a long time.
And I was smitten by Elliott Yamin’s wonderful voice, singing “If tomorrow never comes”.
The following day, I took my broken TV from my old house and to my surprise, found it miraculously working again. Since then I always watched it every week, and I started to admire Elliott even more, not only for his voice, but also for his sense of humor (I bet Ryan Seacrest likes him a lot!), his simplicity and humility. He always looks loving, and friendly and modest, and he sings with all of his heart. He is so beautiful, inside out.
“I’m just the same guy who used to work here,” was his response to one of the fans hovering about him in the pharmacy where he used to work.
And tears welled up in his eyes when he looked at the screen showing how he was welcomed and supported by the people in Richmond Virginia, his hometown.
And tears also welled up in my eyes when I learned that he had to say goodbye to the AI stage because he only got 33.06% of the 50 millions votes. The difference with the other two was very thin. Bummer. Bummer. Elliott had to leave. The stage will never be the same again without him.
Yes he already left, but his voice will always echo in my ears. I’ve never liked (and never will) any AI contestant as much as I like Elliott Yamin. And I will be waiting for his first album with a growing impatience deep within.

LOSING MY VOICE

No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m losing my voice!! And I’m losing my sleep too…and all that happens when I’m not in love with anyone (except with Colin Firth’s British accent maybe). And within the next week, my main job is interviewing people, ideally 45 more people for my current project.
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!!
It hurts to even try to talk, or to swallow any liquid thing, and I can only squeal and shriek. I feel so dumb.
I didn’t sell my voice to the sea witch for a magical potion to win any prince charming’s heart…
I used to mind people who talk so much, and keep 80% of my thoughts to myself. But now, how I long to talk again!
My voice, please come back…and I promise I won’t take you for granted anymore!

A WHINER IS NOT A WINNER

This morning I read a passage in Numbers 11. In the first verse it says, “When the people complained, it displeased the Lord.”
On and on it tells about how the Israelites kept murmuring against the Lord. They were given manna on the dessert, yet instead of being grateful, they remembered when they had cucumbers, garlic, and melons in Egypt. That’s the only thing they remembered the most: good things in the past, which led to dissatisfaction in the present. They forgot that they’d been slaves, ill-treated, and miserable. Hence, they only whined, instead of giving thanks for what God has delivered them out of.
Sometimes I find myself shaking my head in disbelief, reading about how stubborn and hard-heartened they were. How could they be, when they had witnessed so many miracles before their very eyes?
But this morning, it was like reading my own biography. I too, like them, have been whining and complaining and murmuring and bitter (yeah, just look at some posts before), while I have so much to be thankful for.
I was wanting melon when I had abundant manna.
Today I realized, being the whiner is not what I wanna be, cos a whiner is not a winner!

DEN LILLE HAVRUE (A STORY ABOUT A TRUE YET UNREQUITED LOVE)

I almost cried reading Hans Christian Andersen's "Den lille Havfrue", or better known as The Little Mermaid. Such a beautiful story about a true love, yet unrequited.
Lucky are those who never experience it, but most of us do.
Forget about Ariel, the Disney’s mermaid, mind you. I’m talking about the original little mermaid story. Somehow I could relate to her, she was the youngest, quiet and wistful (yeah, most of you would protest at the latter two. Most people think I have a cheerful disposition).
But like me, she also spent most of her time dreaming, and wondering, what it was like to finally see the world above, hear the clatter and clamor of the city, and experience things that she only had heard from others’.
But little she knew about the tragedy that would follow when her biggest dream finally came true, when she turned 15. I wish her birthday had been the day after, or before she actually went up to the surface, and saw the prince charming, whom she helplessly fell in love with.
She risked her life to save him from drowning, and he mistakenly thought it was another girl who saved him.
And she made many other sacrifices just to be near him (just like how love often makes a fool of us). She sold her most beautiful voice to the witch, for a potion that could turn her fish tail into legs. And it hurt her so much. So much that she felt like dying.
And she danced for him, though even to walk, it felt as if she thread on many knives. And she was just like a dumb doll, merely a toy for the prince, to kill his loneliness.
"Yes, you are most dear to me," said the Prince, "for you have the kindest heart. You love me more than anyone else does.”
But he never said that he loved her back, because he never did.
She left every good thing she had: her royal family, her fun deep inside the sea, her 300 year life span, in search for a true love and an immortal soul (that she could only get when a human loved her enough to marry her), and that was not without a risk. If the prince married another woman, the mermaid’s heart would break on the very next morning, and she would become foam of the sea, and cease to exist.
After all she had done for him, she had to witness his wedding day to another girl he loved the most.
But she also had a chance to take revenge, when her five siblings came with bald head, because they had sold their hair to the witch for a dagger to stab the prince with, so she could be a mermaid again. Instead, she kissed his forehead, and heard him murmur his bride’s name, and threw the dagger out of the sea. Slowly, she started to feel her body dissolve in foam.
Tragic, isn’t it?
Yeah, of course there’s another last chapter to console the reader, in which she turned into a daughter of air, who eventually would get the immortal soul, and she could cry for the first time (for mermaids had no tears, they only could sigh when they’re sad).
But still, there’s nothing worse than unrequited love, though it always makes great and inspiring stories!

HELEN

Her name is Helen. She is 86 years old, and her coming was not expected at all.
I heard people talk about her all the time, about how she had to be carried around, or strolled along in a wheelchair, and be bathed by someone else everyday. In other words, she is nothing but a helpless old lady.
But I heard that she liked kids, and sometimes she laughed over things.
And I started to be compassionate towards her. I guess I always have a soft spot for elderly people in my heart. Perhaps because I’ve never had grandparents, or perhaps because I know that someday I’ll be like them (oh, ok…I’m not yet 25, but God willing, I’ll live for many many years more).
And I started to wonder, how is felt to not look forward to something ahead like us, young folks (we think about our dreams, our future, our ambitions), but to look back to the past, to what they’ve been through.
When I turn 80, will I look back, and be embarrassed of how careless, selfish, and mundane I was on my salad days? Will I regret to see how I’d been thinking about my own self and forget to love others as much as I should have? Will I wish I had done more than I actually did? More loving deeds, more encouraging words, more tenderness, more patience…less arrogance, less timidity, less cowardice, less of my old self?
I hope not… I hope I will be able to look back and smile in satisfaction, and be grateful in my heart for what God had done through me, and my numbered days.
And I found myself praying for Helen, in my room. I don’t know how it feels to grow old and be more dependant to others, even to do things we used to do easily and without thinking. It must be lonely, it must be unpleasant, it must be saddening. In addition of that, Helen has no friends. She just came to Indonesia with her son (who leaves her all alone almost all day long), and the maids around her can’t speak English at all.
I’m not the kind of people who can easily be connected with strangers, or initiate a conversation, but I was compelled to get to know her.
So, after thinking back and forth, one morning I came out of my room, and sat next to her in a bench where she usually sits early in the morning. And I started to talk. She was nice, although a way too quiet and a little bit deaf. I tried my best to converse with her, but before long I was out of words.
And I haven’t had any chance to sit and talk with her again after that. Yet I still wonder what she feels when she stares at things around, with a glimpse of loneliness in her eyes.
I want to be her friend, I want to make her last days on earth colorful. I want her to know that God loves her, and I want to tell her that she’ll be fine.
But alas, I’m traveling soon! I like to travel, but sometimes it prevents me from building a relationship, like this one, with Helen.

ON MY NECK!

CROCHETING IS FUN!

I love to crochet.....I would like to learn more about it, so I did make a move by looking for website (s) and free patterns from the internet, and here are the results as far: chokers!

BOOKS AND PENPALS

I’m always crazy about books and reading them. I like them more than clothes, cosmetics, or high-heels shoes. I can’t spend more than half an hour in a boutique, but I can linger for hours in a book store.
I don’t care if people call me a nerd. Indonesians don’t read enough, and I want it to change. So I’m excited that all of my nephews put a big interest on reading, cos I want them to be smart.
But lately I haven’t seriously read only one book. I haven’t finished Anna Karenina, but I already moved to John Grisham’s The Partner. In between those, I also read Mary Higgins Clarks’ novel, and a Chicken Soup book.
Yesterday evening, when I visited a book exhibition, I was almost tempted to buy one, simply because the cover looked interesting and they were having a bargain. But then I remembered the pile of books at home, so I refrained myself.
The book that I want most to read is Geraldine Brooks’ Foreign Correspondence, which is a memoir of how she traveled to find her long lost penpals all over the world. I want to read it so much, since I want to do the same thing with her someday. I have lots of wonderful penpals, mostly in Europe, and I hope I can meet them face to face someday.
“What if you don’t like them when you guys meet in person?” asked my friend skeptically.
I couldn’t find the words then. But after I gave it a thought, I realize that we already made a good move by being friends even though we never met. And how beautiful it is to build a friendship that is not confined by age, nations, distance or gender. How lovely to share our stories, learn the cultures, and simply love the people who sometimes seem to understand more than those around.

ON THE CROSSROAD

Nowhere else is harder than on the crossroad. It’s inevitable, unavoidable. I find myself there several times, and I bet you do too.
I used to call it ‘a gray area’, where it’s not pitch black nor clear white. It’s puzzling, and may give you headache for several days, or weeks.
It’s a place where you are not sure where you’re going. Left or right, which one is right for you? And how do you know? You don’t know what to expect from each path you’re about to choose—whether it will lead you to your dreams, or cause you to regret your choice later.
On many a dark night, I wish I had known the end of those paths, without having to step on it first. I prayed for a divine guide, yet God seemed so silent. I looked for a sign from above, but I saw nothing. I tried to listen for His voice, in a breeze of a cold, chill wind, but I heard nothing. I got more confused, yet I didn’t know what to choose. And I felt all alone.
But I knew I had to move forward, and not to let my fears keep me from my journey.
I wanted to follow my biggest dream, yet that way seemed to be winding, and there was a big price to pay, without any guarantee of happiness at the end. Was the cost worth it? Would I be happy? Would people I love be happy? Would I look back at the crossroad I was in now, and smile, or would I cry?
Things would have been easier if I didn’t have to choose one over two, or more. But there was another road, which seemed to be more secured. I saw myself in a comfort zone, with much less to worry about. Life would just flow as a routine. No harm, no danger, no thrill, no venture. And I knew it would be so boring, so boring that one day I would wish I had chosen the other road.
Half of me wanted the adventure, the other half preferred security, and all that.
You could ask for advices, but people can’t decide for you. And how do you know that your choice will please the Lord? How do you know if your biggest dream is also your life calling, or is it mere a selfish wish? You asked God to remove it from your heart, if it is not from Him, and yet it is there, planted deeper in your heart (even when your closest friends thought you’d already forgotten it), and you’re still doubtful whether it was right.
People used to tell me, that it was so easy to figure out whether something was from The Lord or not. Simply notice, when a door started to close, and another opened, take the latter one. Sometimes it worked, but unfortunately in my case(s), things aren’t usually that simple. If all the doors are closed, it’s easy; you stay where you are, and wait. But what if all the doors are open, which one will you pick?
Here is when you need your faith the most; on the crossroad, facing the unknown, trembling with fears and exhausted by confusion.
Take heart, know that He will not leave you nor forsake you, whichever path you’ve chosen. Even when it’s hard to tread, He will put His feet on your shoes, and carry you along. Even when it’s the wrong track, He will somehow lead you to the right one, because He is the way, the truth and the light. And He dwells in your heart.
So go where your heart takes you, and be brave!

ENSLAVED BY VIRTUES

How much is too much? What are the boundaries between doing good deeds for others and being their slave?
I’ll tell you what I have in my head.
I’ll think twice before bothering others, and I’ll be grateful to those willing to help me in anything.
What if someone asked you a favor, and at first you were so glad to help them.
But then they continued to keep asking you the same favor, so often until you could hardly breathe the air.
And you knew they could’ve learned to do that by themselves, but now they had been accustomed to depending on you, cos you’re always there, doing what they wanted you to do.
And they set the time limit. They said, “Please, finish it by tomorrow morning” (while it’s already late at night). And people around you thought you got paid for your hard labor for them. The fact was, you sometimes didn’t get a simple thank you.
And someday you found out that other people were willing to hire you professionally for the same work, and for the same amount, they gave you two weeks, rather than a night.
You started thinking of saying no, but they got better at begging. And you felt guilty of your intention to stop helping them, thinking they were your friends and you ought to help them.
But then, every time they called, you started grumbling silently, “Arrghhh.. it must be free work again on my free time!” And you kept resenting it cos you needed rest, you had 101 other things to do for yourselves besides your main job in the office.
And you started wondering whether they were your friends like you had thought before.
Then you realized. They only called when they needed you.
They forced you to help them even though they knew you just got out of the hospital and when you said, “I am very tired. My head is spinning around.” They laughed, sounded pretty satisfied that they got what they wanted and they didn’t care if you didn’t feel well afterwards.
Then you realized, you had been used. You had been a slave of people who pretended to be your friends because you’re so useful for them. Or maybe they intended to be your friends, but just didn’t know how.
Then I guess, it was right when people said, that inability to say no is one of the secrets to unhappiness.

THE SPELLING CONTEST

I had never been to a spelling contest, until last Saturday. My sister signed up her first son Henry, after a lot of persuasive efforts. I tested him on several English words on Friday night, and he’s actually pretty good, despite his laziness to study.
The foodcourt of a mall was packed with people, mostly the elementary students joining many contests and their parents.
The program was opened by a line dance. And the dance teacher grabbed Henry in the last minute, to replace a no-show. She said Henry would be able to do it because he often joined the rehearsal sessions.
As a fun country song of Shania Twain was played, the cute kids came up to the stage in pairs. As they listened to the intro and prepared to tap their feet, Henry spotted me among the audience and grinned and waved his hand at me excitedly. The whole dance show was a mess anyway, but still it was pretty amusing to all the audience.
And then finally the spelling contest. Henry made it to the final, with the other three kids. I found myself clapping with enthusiasm when he got right, and winced whenever his answer was incorrect. People around me must have thought that I was an ambitious single parent.
Anyway, he got one of the prizes and was so happy until we all had dinner to celebrate his dad’s birthday. He got tired due to a full-day activity and very very hungry and started to whine when the foods took awhile to be ready. And boy, did the whining pay off. His order came the last!
I managed to keep him from going nuts by saying this over and over again. “The last food served is usually the best.”

MICHAEL BUBBLE’S SWAY

There are some reasons why SWAY is the song I like best from Michael Bubble’s album. It seems to represent two things I want most right now.
First,
Like a flower bending in the breeze, bend with me, sway with ease
I want to dance with a partner who knows how to lead. I pray that my future husband is someone who can dance, or at least someone willing to learn, and not think that it’s a girl thing or even worse, a sin.

Second,
I can hear the sounds of violins, long before it begins
I don’t want to only hear other people play it. I want to play it myself. I have one now, but I don’t have a chance to practice on it. In my hands, it only could shriek. And I hate when people push me to play for them, cos it will be a torture for their ears, and even much worse for me. Why don’t people just accept my no, and respect it?

Someday, I’ll sway and I’ll play. And when I’m ready, I’ll show you. In the meantime, let me decide what I will do and what I will not.

HEAVEN, HELL AND HUMAN LOGIC

I found myself listening unintentionally to a seemingly exciting conversation of at least three people, distracting me from John Grisham’s The Partner I was reading.
I was not a part of the conversation, I was just eavesdropping and totally unseen. I could tell that they agreed on one thing: Human logic to determine whether someone is going to heaven or hell. If he has done good deeds, kindness, charity and virtues, then he deserves heaven. If he has been wicked, cruel, stingy, and did many bad things, then of course he deserves hell. They were sure God knew what was fair and what was not. And that what they believed sounded quite fair. So that must be the truth.
Says who?
“I believe in God, hence I obey the first commandment,” said one person. And she added on. “I don’t steal, I never kill.” She sounded certain that she’s good enough for heaven. Being good means heaven, and hell for the opposite. That sounds so simple and believable. Even to my ears. Had I heard it years ago, I would have agreed. But now I know more than that, thanks to the Book I read, the songs I heard, the people who revealed the truth to me, and of course, the One that planted a desire to know more than merely human logic to my heart, and kept His promise, that whoever seeks might find.
Being in this rotten world for almost 25 years, I can’t precisely imagine how heaven will really look like. But I know it’s the place where the holy, just and loving God is. And His standards are of course higher than ours, limited human beings. Only the holy ones will be there, because God can’t stand impurity.
What makes us impure? Just because we believe there’s a God, and never steal, and never kill, it means we’re pure enough to enter heaven?
What about those ulterior motives hidden in our hearts? What about those dirty little secrets we keep to ourselves? What about that anger we refuse to let go?
Now that we have lots of things to confess, do we still dare to think we’re holy enough according to God’s standards?
If I were God, I would laugh at our arrogance. And I would cry over that too. People sometimes think they’re too smart to keep searching, simply because they’re sure they’ve known everything.
This kind of folks and their belief in human logic strike my heart with grief. If only they were not too skeptical towards what other people say, if only they had enough humility to doubt themselves, and to start seeking the truth, the answer is there. And the secret of how to get to heaven is told everywhere. The blood of The Innocent One was shed, once for all, thousands of years ago. The gift is still offered, though.
Please, take it, before it’s too late. The decision is all yours.