Monday, April 04, 2005

Seen a good (porn) movie lately?

Have you ever been fooled by the title, synopsis or trademark stamp of "two thumbs way up" on a DVD movie cover? You're not the only one. When I buy a DVD movie, I tend to choose movie with nice-sounding title, good synopsis, and that "two thumbs way up" approval from a well known movie critics. I mean, we all know, commercial or vastly popular movie does not necessarily mean good movie, so we have to find our way to choose the gem from loads of crap.

The technique usually works well enough, but not yesterday when I bought a movie with good title, good synopsis, and that "two thumbs way up", but it turned out to be...a porn movie. Not that I mind hehehe...but that's not what I expected. I expected to see a daily experiences and observations of life from the point of view of a woman but I ended up watching a woman copulating anytime and anywhere, either with men, or women. (No animal or vegetable, thank god).

The funny thing about the movie is that, it doesn't look like a porn movie at all. The cover looks artistic and the title sounds so...normal. Porn movie title is always um...sophisticated right? Like "Shaving Ryan's Private" or "They came from planet butt"(No, I'm not making this up. The titles are real. And no, I never watch those movies. I heard about the former from my brother. And the latter, I found that movie in my big brother's room years ago), So who would have guessed it was a porn? Not me, obviously. And to be frank, I can't say I like the movie. Not because I see it from religious/moral perspectives. It's just that when it comes to movie, I have high expectation. A good storyline and good acting is a must. I don't enjoy movie with no storyline, no script, no set and obviously no budget.

Then again, people don't watch porn with those expectations. If one wants to see a good storyline, one will probably choose Richard Linklater or Charlie Kaufman's films.

So the moral of the story is:
1. Don't judge things by its cover.
2. Size DDD breast sure looks heavy.

Thursday, March 31, 2005

Shiny Happy Me

Since my previous posts read something like this: moan-snivel-rant-moan-complain-moan-whine-and sigh, I decided that today's post should be less depressing.
But first, you should congratulate me. Last week was my birthday. I love birthday. It makes me happy. And it's probably the only time of the year when you can see me as a part of "Hallmark card people". I'm shiny and happy...and definitely a ton heavier after munching those big slices of Black Forrest cake. Yes, the next day I woke up with sugar-carb hangover. Heaven.
(And yes, It was definitely the yang part of the yin-yang theory,Rangga)

But the best part of my birthday, as always, were emails, phone calls and SMS from my friends and family. And I just felt so.... loved. Their acts of kindness reminds me that people need each other in so many ways. We need to feel connected. One reason we need others is to talk through our feelings. And sometimes I just forgot how lucky I am to have everyone to really share my heart with. To have people who really care for me even when I don't really feel like I deserved it.

So, in Oscar winner-like speech, I want to thank everyone here. They wouldn't read this, but I just want them to know that I really appreciate their kind gestures.
For my mom, thanks for the cake.
Teteh, my sis and best friend, thanks for the gift. Clinique Happy makes me happy.
And my friends, thanks for your emails & phone calls.
And last but not least, for a dear friend, thanks for the poem. Thanks for reminding me that time is slippery and a treasure not to be wasted.

Time is our abacus, my love
The clock chimes coldly (like echoes) in that town
The numerals have long known:
My shadow would disappears before snowfall

While you (like reality) will continue on your way
Until your time comes
Confessing each time a leaf falls on your crown:
Memory is but a funny thing, of course

Never mind, we do not set the agenda
You too will be at ease with shadow
Share winds and the color of seasons
Even fate has become so tidy
And forgetting intimate

Pada lupa kita juga akan jadi akrab
(Time Is Our Abacus, Goenawan Mohammad, 1973)

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

The caffeine hasn't kicked in yet, so bear with me

I tend to have pessimism in my genes.
I'm not dark or anything, it's just that I'm not one of those people who are always crossing to the sunny side of the street and looking for that elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I had a conversation with a friend the other day. I talked about how life is getting harder and harder for people in Indonesia and how I fear that the situation is going to be worse. I was annoyed when she said I'm much too gloomy and I should see a brighter side of life and be happy. "Because happiness is a choice and misery is optional".
I hate it when people read something from forwarded email and then toss it to me.

It's easy to say that happiness is a matter of choice when your biggest problem is to find the best place to hang out with your friend or the perfect sofa for the living room. People who are suffering from poverty, disease, abuse, hunger, and environmental devastation have more limited choice. They might have no choice at all.

I'm not saying that you have to wear a-week-of-rainy-depressing-weather look all your life and bemoaning the vanity of human existence. We should make the best of what life offers us and the last think you should do in life is to think that life is weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable. But I think being generally content is almost like an intellectual defect; a mental inability to perceive the grim reality in the world. Look at the world. I mean, truly look at the world around us without rose colored glasses, see our peripheral, and question how steady the ground on which we stand truly is. We might not like what we see there, but that's the reality.

There's nothing wrong with being positive, God knows we all need some positivity. But the unquestioning exuberance makes me want to set myself on fire.

There's a time and a place to be jovial: it's *not* everywhere.

Yeah, I'm a neurotic. Shoot me.