La Comedie Humaine

Seen a good (porn) movie lately?

2005-04-04T00:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Shiny Happy Me

2005-03-31T19:18:00.000-08:00

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)

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

2005-03-16T21:25:00.000-08:00

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.

How Insensitive I must have seemed..

2005-02-17T22:05:00.000-08:00

Breaking up is never fun, whether you are doing the breaking up or the one who has just got dumped. About a month ago, I broke up with... I guess I could call him a quasi-boyfriend. Hey, relax, this posting is not going to tell you about how I deal with the heart-wrenching mourning period that involved tons of tissues and sappy sad songs --or how I sat in the corner of my room, teary eyed, chewing my hair, and singing Celine Dion's "My heart will go on" on a karaoke machine. No sir...that kind of thing wouldn't happen in my universe. Well, at least not the singing part.

I've been thinking about what happened, and it seems that the saddest part about this break up is that I don't really feel sad. I have become comfortably numb. I did like him and he is not mean or anything and yet I felt sort of relieved when it's over. I feel stiffled and suffocated by a relationship and there were nights when I wonder if our relationship was worth all the trouble, if all the emotions and time I invested won't go to waste, because I have this nagging feeling that one of days, one of us will just quit. On the whole I feel like I was caught up in superficial happiness. My emotional state was volatile and prone to extremes.

It occurred to me that being numb is probably just a shield to make sure I'm all safe inside where no more bullets can reach, but lately I have been debating the validity of relationships a lot, and I've come to this conclusion that it's good not to romanticize people and things because it probably isn't as wonderful as you have convinced. I used to believe that certain people carry certain feelings towards us and carry the essence of change and happiness to our lives. I'm not sure if I still believe in those feelings.

I want, and I need, to still have faith in love. I don't want to become bitter and jaded. There's enough of it out there already, done by people far better at it than I'll ever be. I don't want the whole world to be cynical...what good would it be? But god, it's hard to nurture a trustful optimism. We don't live in a pinkish dreamy world of fairy tales where love conquers all and couples live happily ever after. Real life is more dynamic and unpredictable than any fiction.
Relationship ends. And life is never happily ever after.

2005-02-08T15:01:00.000-08:00

It's hard to know of all the things to say and how to say them properly.
I'd suspect I can't. Someday I might find the words, but for now all I need to do is tell you:
I wish you the best of everything.

Keep swimming, Renaissance Man. Your best years are ahead.

(ps: yes, I do remember the exact date)

2005-02-02T23:47:00.000-08:00

Things that keep me from exercising this week:

Blogging .
Um...my semi-neglected/rarely updated blog needs to be taken care of.

New aerobic instructor.
My self preservation instinct told me that I should stay away from someone who keeps yelling "ayo, sit up!", unhampered by the signs of my dying process → completely out of breath, exhausted, smelled bad and in agony.

Shopaholic friend who dragged me to every mall in Jakarta.

Undying optimism that pounds will be shed automatically as I sit in front of the TV and mindlessly finish off the entire jar of Oreo. (what?! do you think channel surfing is not an exercise?)

I'm lazy.

night owl

2005-01-25T23:01:00.000-08:00

There are two kinds of insomnia in my world.

The first, when I find myself unable to fall asleep in the first place. During this time, I would get up and do something like watching late night infomercials on TV (want any information regarding diet pills, abdominal machines, or juice machines? I'm the one to ask), reading, writing, or just tossing and turning all night watching the clock go slowly from midnight to 3 or 4 am until I become tired and fall asleep.

And the second, when I find myself totally exhausted and go to bed at an early hour. The result of which is always catastrophic: I would wake up sometime between 2 and 3 for apparently no reason and never get back to sleep again.

In the past I used to blame my trouble sleeping on noises that kept me up, my coffee-drinking habit, or common stressors but now I think insomnia is more than likely a habit I have formed that is comparable to biting fingernails or other annoying habits.

There are times when I feel that my insomnia is really annoying, for instance when I have to go to the office early in the morning, or when I wake up in the morning looking like Ozzy Osbourne with dark circles and puffy bags under my eyes. But honestly, my insomnia doesn't bother me too much. It is not my daily routine at all times. It only happens in my worse periods. During my better periods, I still wake during the night, but I believe I get a good five or six hours sleep. And thank god, I could often stay up late at night without tiring, and then rise early the following morning, vibrant for the next day .One might argue that it is better to work during they day, when you are awake and not tired, but the truth is, my insomnia can leave my brain on high alert at night and I'm fully capable of working and thinking, though it often means I would lost the capability to stay fully awake during the day.

Last night I had my second form of insomnia and decided to write something on my diary after a long break for almost a year. Not a robust and lengthy entry, more of a brief catching up with what's been going on around here recently. It's just too bad I'm not a writer. If I were a writer, I could do something productive like writing a lengthy novel instead of just writing my journal.

I wonder...did writer like Hemingway spend his sleepless night time thinking about how long the fisherman has to sail to catch that big fish? Did Kafka spend his nights pondering life as a cockroach?

Or maybe, just maybe...they spent their nights writing entries on their diary just like me?

I wonder.

massive head trauma, drunk, or just plain stupid?

2005-01-16T21:52:00.000-08:00

People do stupidest things for love. It's normal. When you're in love, you're romantic, idealistic, mushy, and extremely intense. Just like everyone else, I do tons of things I know I shouldn't logically do in the name of love. And I'm not talking about tattoo, body piercing or anything that may transmit hepatitis B and C, or tetanus. I hate needles. Tattooing boyfriend's name on my arm is not even an option. I'm talking about normal things like running' every time the telephone rings or naming my pets after my boyfriends (did I say normal?).

But this is outrageously abnormal.

Creating a hoax based on desire to keep her boyfriend in Jakarta is stupid beyond the laws of nature. She might as well get duct tape, super glue & bungee cord, and then confine her man for good. She would not receive lots of gratifying mild praise and deeply fulfilling tiny little pats on the head, but at least she would only inflict terror upon one person;her boyfriend.

Her sheer stupidity really amazed me.

So I cry, and I pray, and I beg

2005-01-13T19:13:00.000-08:00

This is a sad week indeed. After 3 years of daily use, my CD player broke. There I was about to listen to a CD to help me go to sleep and the CD player went whir, scratch, whir, scratch...whir...whir... scratch...arrghh. And to make matters worse, I just reinstalled this PC and now the CD-ROM is not working. Nothing will read or play in it.
I wish the god of CD player/CD-ROM had mercy on me and make the player work perfectly cause plain silence feels like hell when i'm used to the air next to my eardrums to vibrate violently nonstop, and now I'm dying to hear:

Haunting me, Dave Grusin
Love is a wonderful thing, Fatima Rainey
Maybe tonight, Earl Klugh
Mooonlight, Sting
Never stop, Brand New Heavies
Always with you, always with me, Satriani
Fake plastic tree, Radiohead
Walkin after you, Foo Fighters
You don't know my name, Alicia Keys
Desafinado, Jobim
In the name of love, Grover Washington
My funny valentine, Miles Davis
After the rain, Boney James
To fall in love, Phil Perry
Take cover, Mr. Big
That's the way I feel about you, Dave Koz
Tiger in the rain, Michael Franks
Until the end of the world, U2
The nearness of you Norah Jones
Tenderly, Sarah Vaughan

Amen.

on yahoo messenger this morning

2005-01-06T18:12:00.000-08:00

me:
hey,whuzzup?

yoi:
I miss him, de

me:
siapa?

yoi:
si penjahat kelamin

me:
haha. vulgar & graphic.
call him

yoi:
males. tapi gue buzz dia tadi *feel guilty mode on*

me:
trus

yoi:
lagi offline kayaknya.

me:
keep buzzing and don't lose faith--persistence pays.

yoi:
your way of saying I should stop seeing him?

me:
no, my way of saying you shouldn't date an emotionallly disabled adult who has zero self-consciousness

yoi:
i'm trying to be reasonable

me:
being reasonable is actually pretty reckless

yoi:
OMGPD. teori siapa tuh?

me:
mine. people are not capable of rational thought when it comes to love

yoi:
pls deh, dont use that word

me:
ok, ganti: people are not capable of rational thought when it comes to lust. itu teorinya.

yoi:
faktanya?

me:
itu sebenernya masih bisa diusahain.

yoi:
lo berhasil?

me:
ngga juga

yoi:
ngomong sama lo tuh nggak guna banget. nggak jelas dan ngga logis. gue tarik testimonial gue.

me:
DZIGG!!! *jet li mode on*

yoi:
jadi gue tlp aja dia?

me:
if you're ready to enter the dangerous world of sexually transmitted disease, yes.

yoi:
PLAK!!!

me:
barbar!

yoi, a definite possibility; life is half love and half joke...

2004-12-27T18:32:00.000-08:00

Death comes all of a sudden: unexpected, unmerited.
Disaster strikes from one moment to another.
Still, I can't help but feeling that my heart is literally ripped from my body as I watch the victims of yesterday's earthquake and tsunami on TV; Thousands of people were killed, bodies left hanging like rag dolls from trees as the waters receded, sarong-wrapped corpses scattered on streets, weeping and dazed survivors who tried to identify victims. It is a sad situation for us and it's impossible not to be overcome by the horror.

My deepest sympathy and heartfelt condolences for those who mourn today. Words fail to express my great sadness to your suffering.
May God give you strength and comfort during this difficult time.
God bless & keep strong.

Spanish Disco

2004-12-21T18:22:00.001-08:00

Don't let the title fools you. This book
has nothing to do with Spain, and very little to do with disco. The story revolves around Cassie Hayes, a caffeine addict who drinks like a fish and swears like a sailor.

Cassie is the post-Bridget Jones- thirty something heroine who has heartache in life: a failed marriage and a mother who abandoned her when she was little. She works as a book editor for a small, prestigious press and one day she must travel to the Gulf Coast to edit a long-awaited novel from Roland, a mysterious Pulitzer Prize-winning author, who wrote one masterpiece (a tale of angst and the end of the 1950s) and then disappeared for decades (J.D. Salinger?).

Cassie must move into the recluse's beach hideaway so that she can edit the novel. But actually, it is so that she can teach this author to dance (huh?), so the author can win over his beautiful Spanish housekeeper.

Witnessing the blossoming love between the two allows Cassie, who is afraid of relationships, to open her heart up to a London writer named Michael whom she has never met in person, but has shared steamy phone sex for five years. After the ups and downs, Cassie is finally grown up; She's forgiving the past, getting on with her life and found a relationship that is divine (Relationship between Cassie and her ex is carnal --she called her ex "the cock that roared"). Well uh divine..if you're willing to forget the fact that they're indulged in flirtation bordering on phone sex for five years.

And the story ends up with happy ending.

The characters in this novel are mildly funny, but very confusing at times. It's as if Orloff didn't have a clue about what to do with her characters. The protagonist's fear of commitment is incomprehensible and she goes around hating stuff for no apparent reason like angst filled teens. Her fear or anger just seems to be a prerequisite for this branch of the genre (a chick lit, that is). Even after I've finished reading this novel, I still can't conjure up a clear picture of her. Though I understand that the intense sexual attraction is so often mistaken for love,
I still feel sorry that it took 34 years for this sassy, brilliant, publishing world wunderkind to realize that love isn't what's between the legs, but what's between the ears. So she's probably not that brilliant.

In an acceptable measure, imperfections can be adorable but in this novel the characters were pushed over the edge into the realm of the irritating and irrational, that I found them unlikable. I think that's one of the major flaws in this novel, beside its lack of plausibility.

Only redeeming feature is the fact that the protagonist and I share the same fondness for Led Zeppelin and coffee. I had a major crush on Robert Plant when I was, um, very, very young; and there's absolutely nothing better than first thing in the morning, waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. But that doesn't change the fact that I'd wasted my money for a book I didn't like.

Latest movie reviews

2004-12-12T21:27:00.000-08:00

The tendency of children to want to watch the same movie over and over again, until their guardian want to end their lives, has to be observed. I do not know why my nephews are so into kaku rangers but I wish they could live without the movie for, say, an hour or so.

For those who have not had the good fortune to see this movie, kaku rangers are the color-coded spandex clad Japanese super heroes who like to disguise as cowboys (don't ask) while doing their tasks and fight the Pink Purse monster from Zeo (a monster with the tendency of licking at women's bottoms).
In all total I bet I watched this movie at least a Gazillion times.

I feel kinda pathetic now. Double pathetic. I haven't had time to watch any movies lately. While everyone's writing about JIFFEST and its awesome movies, my latest movie review is kaku ranger (Well, either that or the [in]famous teletubbies)

Maybe I should buy a rope and hang myself.

Shop 'till you drop

2004-12-04T18:22:00.000-08:00

I'm on the verge of bankruptcy.
Bookshops are a very dangerous place for me to be. Last night I went to a bookstore and spent all of the money in my wallet. I bought 8 books.

I keep telling myself to stop buying books because I run out of space so I have nowhere to put them. and just this morning I count all the books that I haven't read yet and... I've got 38!

I look at my overflowing bookshelves and think, "What do I need all of these for? I don't even have time to read those books. This is something I still struggle with. Why can't I be contented? Why can't I manage to save money?
But believe me; it's hard to resist the temptation because every time I walk into a bookstore, there are always several books I feel I cannot live without. Am I a compulsive shopper?

Studies show that about 90 percent of compulsive shoppers are women. Also there have been studies that link shopping to orgasm. The same physiological changes occur when people (translation: women) spot, for instance, SHOE. The sympathetic nervous system gives way to the hormones endorphins. So it's actually understandable if some women prefer shopping to sex. you get the similar sensations, plus shopping's a lot safer. You won't get heartache or STDs from shopping (unless, of course, you sleep with the shopkeeper).

Uh, I'm soo sleepy. I read a novel until 4 a.m and now I can barely keep my eyes open . It's a fluffy Fielding-esque read (Helen, not Henry, mind you) . Not the kind of book that proclaims a mission of educating and empowering women, but it's engrossing.

Okay, enough babbling. I'm going to repeat my mantra now cause if I don't, I will spend all my money to buy books and end up in the street, penniless.

NO BOOK SHOPPING
NO BOOK SHOPPING
NO BOOK SHOPPING
NO BOOK SHOPPING
NO BOOK SHOPPING