Wednesday, June 10, 2009

THE LAST BITS & PIECES

(Many people complained about the *quality* of my writings lately, i.e. the lovey-dovey stuffs. My sincere apologies for not being able to keep up with your expectations. I promise this will be the last piece in my “Love” series. Then let’s talk about soup-opera-like conflicts with Malaysia or the presidential campaign-- just as you like it!)


Marry Me By Next Year

This is a story about someone I knew: a girl blessed with extraordinary beauty & an amiable disposition. Men went after her like a group of dazed bees. But she wasn’t into dating—she was one of those “pure girls” who want to go straight to the wedding vow, be a good housewife and breed babies.

Because she is always timid and sweet, you’d think her weak &
indecisive. So wrong. Just when she felt she was of age, she announced that she wanted to get married by next year. To whom? Dunno yet.

Quite a shock for me. This was a girl who left so many hearts broken
because she wanted a Prince Charming, nothing less. And suddenly she was ready to marry anyone just to get her target achieved? Are you kidding me? It’s marriage, man—it’s no trivial matter!

She did get married the next year, by the way. To a “blackhorse” o
ne wouldn’t consider a suitor in the first place. Many hearts were bleeding open—but then she got what she wanted. A husband & a kid now, and a happy life.

Was that love? It’s more like she made a bet—and got luck
y.


It’s Just A Feeling

A drunkard was drinking heavily in a bar and got into a conversation
with a stranger beside him. He told that stranger, “I love my family so much. I love my wife and my kids. I am nothing without them”.

But then he spent his time in bars getting drunk
day-in day-out. His wife struggled alone with the house chores & the kids did not have anything to say to the daddy.

“If you love them you shouldn’t be here being wasted. You should be with
them”, said the stranger.

“But my feelings are true! I truly, deeply love them! I
am not lying; I really love them!”

What a joke. Love is not just a feeling; love is an action.



It reminds me of myself: all the years when I *felt* I loved my sempai.

It was just a feeling. In reality I did not do anything about him. It
was not love.

As far as feelings go, I am deeply in love with Gong Yoo. And Sakaguchi
Kenji. And Christian Bale. I am not lying! I feel very strongly for them. Now who would say these are loves?


How Long Does the Hormone Last?

A worthwhile 2005 Korean sappy series, My Lovely Sam Soon, got me thinking. There is a couple in the story: the girl is a dazzling med school student and the guy is a spoiled rich brat. The guy is madly in love with her, to which she laughingly explains, “It’s just the hormones”.

They will be in love just as long as the hormones are still flowing in
their bodies, being pumped to their brains.

How long does the hormone last?


Approximately two years, she said. You’ll be tired of me after two years, she said. That is a very disheartening statement.

But didn’t I tell you that being in love is not love? You have been warned.


The Myth of True Love

I have this stubborn belief that the myth of true love is responsible of
many of the breakings-up of otherwise repairable relationships.

You think in your life there is “one true love” you have yet to find. You and the fated one are “meant for each other” as “a match made in Heaven”—everything will be just perfect when you are finally together.

When later on you find out that it’s not exactly perfect, you back off.
You think you’ve made a mistake recognizing “the one”. You think you should break free from this relationship ASAP, and start searching for “the one” again, “the TRUE one”.

Gimme a break. To begin with, nothing is perfect. Even if you think that
it is, it is not. (Except if you take this argument into a whole higher level of spiritual realm—then *everything* is indeed perfect.)

Blame it on the fairy tales you heard when you were little—truth is,
Prince Charming does have his own worries and fears—he’s not one supreme being whose sole purpose in life is solve all your problems. He goes to the bathroom, too, you know.


So this is your wake-up call. True love is something you work for; it is
not Given. To love is to labor. Destiny has little to do with your well-being, because happiness is a state of mind.

Let’s see things as they are, shall we readers? “True love is just
co-dependency with a better soundtrack”.

Friday, May 15, 2009

I LOVE HER BUT I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH HER

Tom Cruise said this on getting a divorce from Nicole Kidman: “I love her but I am not in love with her”.

There is a grain
of truth in what he said. The feeling of being in love is not love.

We all *love* being in love, don’t we? When we waltz along the street
(or at least walk, but with those springy steps). When the world is still the same but it just looks different: more colorful, warmer, brighter. When a 5-minute phone call makes us smile all day long. When a date is the only thing that matters in this whole world.

Indeed those are the best moments of our lives. Those are the times when
we truly feel alive, and be grateful to be alive. So full of hopes and bursting with energy. So full of dreams and bursting with passion. Amazing how one person can inspire us so.

But here is Life’s little secret: you cannot be in love forever. It is
too tiresome; it takes up too much energy. The feeling, with all its roller-coaster ride sensation and rainbow colors, will soon wear off. You fall in love, and then you fall out of love.

So did Tom Cruise. So does everyone.


The question is: what to do next when you fall out of love? Get a
divorce? Cheat on your partner? Suddenly support polygamy?

M. Scott Peck, a psychoanalyst I most respect, argued that the end of
“being in love” could well be the beginning of “a real love”. When you get over your infatuation, when you no longer crave your beloved, and yet you two are willing to stay together and help each other to grow beyond the boundaries— that is Love. Will and acts (sometimes hard-labored!) to be better, happier persons both.

So Tom Cruise got over his infatuation. If only he (and she) had worked
on their Love, the couple might have been together still, and happier than ever. Pity.

LOVE (OR LUST?) AT FIRST SIGHT


This one has been talked about quite a lot already, so I’m gonna make it quick.

I don’t believe in love-at-first-sight. True, you can still gather
something about the personality from appearance only, but they are often deceiving. The so-called love-at-first-sight is mostly about liking what you see.

I went out for lunch with Mike once, and somehow we ended up talking
about love-at-first-sight. “It is not love at all; it is lust”, said I decisively. Mike, being a true Briton, laughed politely with that amused spark in his eyes, and remarked, “Why, you are being cynical, Elok”.

“And when you are telling the truth, people call you cynical”, I
replied.

“A true cynic!”, he was looking more amused than ever.


But he did not say a word against my (not-so-original) lust theory. I
left it at that.

Note:
Written with a smile of remembrance. Happy belated birthday, you blue-eyed bloke! :-)

Friday, April 24, 2009

THE HEIRS OF NARCISSUS

I often wonder just how far one would go to appease someone he/she loves.

This is a blatant debility typical to those “in love”. I remember my own best friend undergoing such an ordeal shopping for a pineapple her boyfriend asked for on HER birthday, and it was pretty exasperatingly comical how she (we) struggled to bring the darn pineapple home by a tiny scooter, along with heaps of other goods we bought.

Well, it WAS comical, until it turned out that the couple had a row (on
her BIRTHDAY!) and he ended up returning all her things from his room, including, guess what, our own darn pineapple, untouched. So in the evening of her birthday, the two of us struggled once more, this time to finish the famous pineapple. Tragedy.

Seeing it as an event afar in the past now, I must admit that the wh
ole tribulation was actually quite droll. Even more surprising to me, they made up soon after! Why on earth she could endure such a treatment I cannot tell. What other impediments he has imposed on her I would not long to hear. After the Pineapple Incident, I refuse to stand for my friend’s sanity whenever this guy is involved.

How come one causes so much trouble to others, and yet they still cling
to him/her? Except for familial relationships, I find it hard to accept. If he hurts you, if he treats you like dirt, you MUST walk away. Even better, kick his arse as you walk away. And kick it hard.

But no, you would linger. You would seemingly do anything to please the
one you love, even if he/she would not do the same to you. You’d call it sacrifice; you see yourself a martyr of love. What a bunch of hokum. I’ll tell you what’s going on exactly:

1. He/she is the heir of Narcissus; the person he/she loves best is him/herself. NOT you.

2. You have a masochism tendency; better go consult a shrink.

These heirs of Narcissus are not necessarily as good-looking, mind you.
Don’t be deceived by their looks. One thing they have in common is that they are so full of themselves they hardly have a room for you. Real love, on the other hand, is about sharing metaphorical common rooms for you both to grow spiritually together.

Echo, the nymph falling victim to Narcissus, ended up pining away in
a cave. Alone. Not a good sign at all. I guess I better give my friend some hints!

DON'T LET HIM CALL YOU PET!


Pet, huh?


Truth is, my idea of a pet is a virtual one: (fluff)Friend, Tamagotchi and the likes. Being not so caring, I used to admire those pet-owning friends of mine for their great capacity for love and care. I envied the pets for being so much adored. I envied girls who were adored like pets. “Jane, pet, I have missed you!”, said John, hugging her So sweet, I used to think.

Not anymore.

Today, if I hear another “Jane, pet, I have missed you”, I will most probably frown and feel sorry for the girl.

I have come to realize that your “love” to a pet is not love. Love allows independent thoughts, personal colors. Love is about two SUBJECTS choosing to be together.

The case with your pet is different. By definition, a pet is something you take care of; something you feed and play with. You are essential for it to thrive. Your sentiments exactly: you do want to have control and superiority over your pet. You want it to be loyal and dependent— to be your OBJECT. That’s the whole point.

He who calls his sweetheart “pet” is subconsciously expecting the girl to be an object. John wants loyalty and obedience; Jane will be loved and adored as long as she keeps her thoughts to herself. The problem starts when Jane tries to get the message across that she’s not a puppy.

I value my independence too much to ever commit a master-pet relationship. I do not want to be called pet either. Nor should you. Show that you OBJECT being treated as an OBJECT; do not let him call you pet!

Friday, March 13, 2009

A NECESSITY TO "LOVE"


I was driving with some friends when we -twenty something, vibrant, viable- eventually ended up talking about how hard it is to find a perfect partner, a Yamato Nadeshiko, in this metropolitan full of pretty wolves.

“I had a pearl of a girl once, but I was dumb enough to let her go...”, one of them mused regretfully. We were all silent for a second or two- probably involuntarily being reminded of one particular dearest we lost in the past as well.


“I think very few people managed to marry the ones who are perfect for them. Instead, the majority married whom they considered the most suitable ones when the time came for them to marry”, another replied.


“The time came for them to marry? I thought we could decide ourselves when we want to wed”, I responded laughingly. But then it is not true. Somehow most of us decide to get married at the age that the society sees fit for us to get married. We do not want to be called old spinsters or old chaps; and we dread being relentlessly nagged by our parents about “settling down with a nice guy/girl” and “giving them a grandchild”.


In Indonesia, at twenty something, particularly after college, the folks are entering the realms of “Panic Age”. They will start thinking seriously of settling down and starting a family, and the more they are into the idea, the more panicky they become in the quest of finding The One. The Perfect One.


Some of them turn to jerks checking out every girl they set eyes on; some of them quietly restrain themselves in great distress.


Until one point the pressure is just too big to bear and they fall victim to the craftily devised “trap” in which nature & culture unite. Marriage as a compromise, defense, or even defeat. That is the point where Yamato Nadeshiko no longer matters. They have this necessity to “love”, and it could be just anyone, as long as they seem fit and “okay”.


Marriage as a compromise, defense, or even defeat. Isn't it sad?


How unfair and unjust the twists of Life are. You might love your high school sweetheart with all the loves in the world; she might be just perfect; but the time was not right and you two went your separate ways. She might be the queen of your heart still; and she might even love you still; but if she was not around when the time “came” for you to marry, you would end up with someone else. Someone tolerable or even nice, perhaps, but not this “pearl of a girl”. And there you are stuck for the rest of your life.

Just before we get off the car, another friend, staring at the traffic, mused quietly, “I read somewhere once that life is like crossing a desert. Along the journey you could pick the loveliest flower you saw and bring it with you for solace and consolation, but you could never go back. It's a take-it-or-leave-it situation. Sure enough, there might be a prettier rose just around the corner, but are you going to risk the whole journey reserving yourself? You either be content with the one you had, or be content knowing that you had once beheld the prettiest of all flowers there were, yet you could not bring it home because it was too late”.


His somewhat tragic allegory relates to us too well. Spending a lifetime trying to find Mr./Ms. Perfect sounds quite unworthy, but picking up a rose only out of a necessity sounds horrid as well.

I believe that to love is voluntary. A necessity to love is not love. It is compromise.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

THE DOMESTICATING LOVE


It is a pitiful sight when an open-minded, brainy girl is being bogged down into the humble service of domestic realms. To see her wake up even before the sun peeped in the east only to cook breakfast for the beloved. To witness her let her wings be clipped and her roaming space at the mercy of the beloved. To find her succumbing to every word he said. To see how he is slowly becoming the axis of her universe. And to see her struggle to ignore how infinitesimal her universe has now become.

What to say when you see all that? Don’t you just wish you could grab the girl and shake her and tell her to end this folly? But then you’ll see her eyes brimming with tears of joy; she is deliriously, foolishly happy to the point of numbness of the senses.

Perhaps love is meant to overcome your reasons and make you look like a complete idiot. Perhaps you should just let it be. But I don’t think love should be domesticating. Domestication underlies the notion that you live not to be your own master, but to be someone else’s “slave”. Domestication demands your every effort neither for your fancy nor betterment, but to please the “master”. It is an insult to human dignity, in a way. Being in love or not, I don’t think the brain should be let in a deadened state as to tolerate such domestication.

Does love bring you face to face with your primordial instincts? When in love, can’t women resist the temptation to SERVE? Can’t men resist the temptation to RULE? It is a pitiful sight indeed, yet if you would just look around you would see so many women succumb to domesticating loves and embrace their shrinking potentials quite welcomingly and happily. Letting go of their dreams, walking away from the promising future so casually, only to be at home and do HIS laundry. I am sorry to say that this happens to women only.

I am not a feminism freak who would accuse every housewife of gender blasphemy. But I believe love is supposed to be expanding your universe, to be lifting you spiritually, to be blissfully beautiful. Yet domesticating love is not blissfully beautiful. It can’t be love. It just can’t.

WHAT LOVE IS AND WHAT LOVE IS NOT

Love is overrated.

Too many people talk about it, moan about it (both quietly & noisily), write songs about it, sing & dance for it, cry, swear, be full of passion and be made foolish because of it. Yet too few people truly understand what love is.

I myself don’t understand what love is.

But thru my recent travels to Texas, Bali & Yogyakarta, thru my quiet time of pondering & wondering, I think I am justified to say that I have come a step closer to grasping what love is NOT. I’ll share my thoughts in upcoming posts.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

Idul Adha yang Memuliakan

Komentar Papa selepas salat Id membuatku berpikir.

"Nggak bener ini", ujar beliau tentang fenomena bagi-bagi kupon daging kurban.
"Apanya, Pa?", tanyaku ringan.
"Pembagian kupon begini. Seharusnya kita yang datang pada mereka dengan membawa daging kurban. Bukan mereka yang harus datang untuk meminta".

Kami manggut-manggut. Papa menimang sejenak buku The Tao of Islam yang baru kemarin kuberikan.

"Idul Adha seharusnya memuliakan, bukan merendahkan", tandas Papa.


Pada kenyataannya, tidak banyak yang berpendapat bahwa pembagian kupon daging kurban itu merendahkan. Kebanyakan orang menerimanya sebagai sesuatu yang wajar, dan sesuai kewajaran, orang-orang datang mengerumuni barang gratisan.

Tetapi ibadah kurban tidak dimaksudkan sebagai sekadar bagi-bgi gratisan. Dan kewajiban setiap makhluk berakallah untuk mempertanyakan dan menimbang ulang suatu "kewajaran".

Manusia yang setia pada harkatnya, meskipun papa dan kekurangan, tidak akan tunduk begitu rendah sampai mau berebut jatah bersusah-susah. Aku selalu berpikir begitu setiap kali menonton tayangan berita di TV yang menampilkan gambar puluhan dan ratusan orang menyerbu pembagian sembako atau apa saja; saling menyikut dan mendorong dan menginjak saudara demi sesuatu yang tak seberapa. Merubung gula seperti serangga gila. Aku selalu berpikir, bukan seperti ini kodrat dan fitrah manusia. Aku selalu berpikir, si penderma yang mengkondisikan sekumpulan manusia ini berlaku seperti binatang belaka tentunya sunguh tidak beres moralnya.

Islam adalah agama yang mulia dan memuliakan. Aku tidak rela kalau Idul Adha pun dijadikan dalih untuk mengerdilkan fitrah manusia dan kemanusiaan.

Ini membuatku teringat pertanyaan yang dilontarkan Prof. Hasanu Simon, patron Pengajian Bubur Ayam di Pogung, Jogja, yang biasa kusambangi dulu. Beliau bertanya, "Mana yang lebih baik: orang miskin yang sabar atau orang kaya yang bersyukur?". Saat itu aku mesti berpikir keras sebelum menjawabnya.

Orang miskin yang sabar punya harga diri ke-Islam-an yang tinggi; percaya bahwa Tuhan sudah dan sedang memberikan yang terbaik baginya; yakin bahwa benda bukan ukuran kebahagiaan yang sebenarnya; dan tentunya tidak memuliakan daging kambing/sapi sebegitu tingi sampai merendahkan diri sendiri.

Orang kaya yang bersyukur percaya bahwa di mata Tuhan hanya ada ketakwaan; bahwa harta adalah titipan; bahwa kekayaan tidak membuatnya lebih tinggi daripada orang-orang miskin di luar sana. Dia tidak akan merendahkan mereka. Dia akan berbagi dengan tulus; dengan hati, bukan hanya dengan fulus.

Yang manapun tidak akan terlibat skema pembagian kupon daging kurban ini. Yang manapun aku rasa baik untuk menjadi. Tetapi tangan di atas lebih baik daripada tangan yang diberi, jadi begitulah jawabanku kala itu.

Aku percaya bahwa ketika semua orang miskin rela bersabar dan semua orang kaya senang bersyukur, yang dimaksud dengan kewajaran adalah "Islam yang memuliakan".

Dan aku percaya Papa akan mengiyakan.

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Tuesday, December 02, 2008

HIGH AND LOW

“From the air all things look so ridiculous
Our fears so small, our fights so vain
I want a pilot, a plane with you
So all our problems look small, too”

That is from a song called “Cleveland” by Jewel, whose cantabile reminded me of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity: from high above, everything seems longer to take place. It has something to do with relative velocity as a function of height, but I am not going to bore you with it.

The take-away is that when you are up-high:
1. Everything down there seems small, petty, trivial
2. Everything down there seems running so slow

It is physics and on top of that it is common sense, as everyone who’s been to a many-story building would swear to you. But it is also metaphorical.

When you are in a position above others, you tend to see them small, petty, trivial that you do not think it worthwhile to listen to them. From your perspective they do not get things done quickly enough—they are just SO slow.

In physics you know that is not the case. You know you are under the illusion of relativity. You want to be careful before passing judgment; you want to be wise.

I am writing this to all BOSSES out there: never misjudge your employees’ performances just because you are up there high enough to look down on people. Things are busy and exuberant down there, trust me. Reality check will do you good.

I am also writing this to all SUBORDINATES out there; yes, YOU, the lowest & lowliest creature in office food chain hierarchy. When your boss acts like a j*rk, please try to bear it. Try to forgive his/her lack of touch with reality. Perhaps s/he cannot help it. Perhaps s/he is not strong enough to fight the physics of Theory of Relativity- poor fellow.

At the end of the day, having your two feet on the ground is not bad at all. It might even be better than climbing up that high opinion of yourself—a ladder so fragile that you are sure to fall down.

On which occasion people might be more than happy to say, “Happy landing!”


Note:
Written on the day I wished to have bosses who were afraid of height :-)

Friday, November 07, 2008

ON BIRTHDAY

Note 3

MAN and AGE. The two things most girls cannot MAN-AGE.

This birthday reminds me of my excess of age and my lack of men. Not that I bother. I am single, yes, —but I DO like being single. Girls of my age might have one or two kids already—they all look very busy and happy—but what do I care? I love children so long as they are not mine. So there.

Mr. Perfect does not exist, says my friend who wants to reconcile my stubborn peculiarity with the common sense of our wonderful society. Stop looking for him and start looking around, she says. Which amuses me a great deal. Who says I am looking for Mr. Perfect? What good can a “standard” Mr. Perfect do me? (except if he happens to be Prince William). I am quite well-off on my own and not on the look out for anyone particular, thank you very much.

Truth is, I am not inclined to have a relationship just so I’d have a relationship. “What you don’t have, you don’t need it know”. I believe that. I do not care how many men love me, or do not love me. When the right man comes around (he himself will be peculiar, like half-Mr. Darcy and half-Mr. Thornton with a hint of Shinichi Chiaki, metaphorically), I will struggle to be worthy of him. So I will not settle for less. I am so not going to settle for and be forever tied to someone I will detest and despise before long, just because the Society dictates so. And if it is God’s will that I remain forever single because of what I stand for, then be it.

So there.

Afterwords:
So many historical events in the week of my birthday. First i lost both my cellies. Then Obama won the election (amazing speech there, buddy!). Wow.

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ON BIRTHDAY

Note 2

OK. I am twenty something, a reservoir engineer with prospects (or so I hope), and more or else have everything I need to enjoy life and be happy.

So what do I want to do next?

The ideal thing will be to step on Aurora’s shoes: sleep and sleep and sleep until a handsome, charming, reliable prince embraces me with a kiss, and I wake up a princess.

No. What nonsense. If I were a true idealist I would rave on about making the world a better place for mankind and fellow creatures. Stop global warming. Plant trees. Live more closely to the nature. Educate the ignorant. Stop the greed, stop the hatred. A world without prejudice & discrimination, amen.

Those are all good causes, but please, for once, let me be selfish on my own birthday. Let me make wishes dearest to my heart. I wish to be sure that my loved ones are sound and content. I wish to be relieved of the petty struggles and worries of everyday life. I want to live BEYOND. I want to live bravely and love without fear. I want to see more of the World. I want to die while I am living.

I want to die smiling—with no regrets. It sums up to that.

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ON BIRTHDAY

Note 1

Birthdays should be the moment when you make a halt—to sit and contemplate what you’ve done with your life already, and what you want to do next.

When I was younger, I did not mind doing that. But the older I get, the more reluctant I am to “contemplate the past & plan the future”.

I can’t help feeling (and am sure I am not alone) a sense of loss—of the time passed—the time that can never be reversed. I am not young anymore. How time flies. And with every breath I take, an opportunity of becoming “another me” is lost, while “myself” comes more into being.

I am not sorry for what I am. I am not sorry for what I have done. I AM sorry for what I haven’t done, though; for what I could have become.

If I were 5, I could still grow up to be a space traveler. Or a dancer. Or a lawyer. Or a painter. Perhaps that’s why the world is always full of wonders in the eyes of children—because unlimited opportunities and endless possibilities hang about the air—like sparkling bubbles that they can reach when they extend their hands—like being surrounded by tender little lights of millions of fireflies—it has a magical quality in it.

But I am twenty something now—the magic has gone; I see the world as it is. No matter how keen the space traveler or lawyer or painter in me are, I cannot be them anymore. To think about the opportunities I have missed; the different paths I could have walked on—really, I ALMOST hate birthdays.

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Sunday, November 02, 2008

AN AWARD!


My blog got an award!

And yet you know i hardly update it. And lately i don't think i write anything worth reading (except for the few people who want to know what i'm up to but too lazy to make personal contacts).

This must be a joke. Specially because the award is from Astrid (an excellent writer, and as the case always is, an intriguing person). Could she make a joke of this kind? Nominate the "Worst Blogger of the Year" award to me probably? I believe she could. But i trust she won't.

So i guess i just have to live with it. And let the game rolls on.

Ladies & gentlemen, let me pass on the award to these five blogs (or bloggers):

1. Bondan Caroko (www.bondancaroko.blogspot.com) - for the wit! And then we both share one thing in common: we update our blogs in such a looooong period. Him getting the award too will somewhat clear my conscience of winning one in the first place, haha.


2. Simon's MetroMad (www.metromad.blogspot.com) - a different view about lives in the Big Durian and Indonesia in general. Should not miss any of the posts!

3. Loosewire (www.loosewireblog.com) - simply resourceful. He talks about how technology shapes our lives in such a way that i believe i myself am a techno-savvy (doooohhh!).


4. Charles Frith (www.charlesfrith.com) - brainy in a bold way. How i envy his adventures- and how i wish to walk tete-a-tete with him one day- a bright blue sky & ample time to talk about ideas! That would be lovely!

5. Maharani DS (www.ranids.blogspot.com) - the epitome of "simple is beautiful". Her honest eyes and boundless compassion give colours to the trivialities of everyday life.

If you're interested to game on, put on the award badge on your blog & pass it on to other five blogs. But if you don't fancy passing a "chain-award", just blog on, please. Coz i do love, love, love your writings.

Note:
(Mbak Astrid, you deserve an award, too, but you've got too many already *wink*)



Friday, October 17, 2008

A TASTE OF TEXAS

Texas is great.

What i mean is, everything in Texas is great; huge; massive. Buy a meal and you'll be surprised by the size of it. Buy anything- most likely you'll need two hands to handle it. Being a petite Asian, i am literally dwarfed both by the native and the things around.

But really, Texas is great. Especially when you come expecting the worst (like i did). To begin with, Houston -where i'm staying- is a very flat city. In a literal sense- it's just soooo vast a space of land. Then there's the fact that it's an oil city. Meaning it's not exactly the place you'll go to if you expect to have a wonderful evening in a piano recital or so. To top it all, it has just been struck by the Hurricane Ike. So really, you could not bring yourself to expect a lot.

But it's been three weeks now (and counting) and contrary to all prejudiced thoughts, i'm enjoying my stay immensely. We can put all kinds of arguments into it, of course. It might be because it never takes much to make me happy & occupied- I'd have been happy even if they have sent me to Nigeria. It might be the human power of adaptation. It might be the whole first-class stuff that i have the privilege to enjoy.

But i think partly it's because i come to the States at the right time- when the TV is full of the clamour of presidential campaigns. Barack & John are my two faithful companions- they have the rare skills of creating all kinds of news to keep me amused & entertained. And don't forget Sarah Palin- and oh! Tina Fey!

I'm going to confess that never much of a couch potato as i am, i even find myself being deeply interested in TV ads. They're just stunning. They mention their rival brands & openly claim that they are better. Probably that's capitalism realised. Probably defamation is not a big deal. The election campaign ads are the best of 'em all. They name names and put nasty labels to them. "Liar". "Dangerous". "Out of touch". Oh-so-amusing! Woohoo!

So there i go with my TV set, lazying around with Barack & John & the fabulous Anderson Cooper. There i go with my AMEX card, swiping here & there, shopping more than what i can handle. There i go ordering lunches & dinners- only to request boxes "to go". There i go with trips to the museums, the parks, the NASA Center, the outlets. There i go practising to say "y'all" the way the Texans do.

Texas is great. I'm glad i made this trip. Hell yeah! :-)

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