iblogtoo

confused

Sometimes it feels like I don't know what's going on with myself. It's like I have all these thoughts inside my head, and all these feelings, but I can't pull the logical strings to connect them all.

It's usually Jeha who excellently figure out things happening in me that I don't even realize, and Jbob who puts logic to all my jumbled up feelings.

and now Budi is doing it for me. He pulls the logical strings and make all things clearer for me. Like how he told me it might seem like I love a guy, but it could be just because I wanted a boyfriend. Or how I just instantly dislike some people the first time we met, because I value people from their social interraction while he values people from their intelligence. LOLs.

I guess I'm a confused person then o.O

the blue rose

The Blue Rose

A folktale from China

Retold by Rose Owens

 There was once an Emperor who had but one child—a daughter. She was his pride and joy, his treasure. He cherished her above all else. As he became old and his health began to fail, he realized that he might not always be there to care for and protect this precious daughter. He determined that it would be best if he were to find a husband for his daughter. 

 When it became known that the Emperor was seeking a husband for the Princess, many men found their way to the palace to request his daughter’s hand in marriage. The Princess pleaded with her father. “Father, let me remain with you to care for you. I have no wish to marry and leave you.” But her father was adamant. Finally he said he would allow her to name one qualification that her chosen husband must meet—be it wealth or looks or special ability or whatever. The Princess said she would name that qualification on the morrow.

 That evening the Princess went to the garden to talk with the gardener’s son—her childhood playmate. “If I say my husband must be handsome, he might be handsome but have a cruel heart. If I say my husband must be kind, he might also be terribly old. Oh what qualification should I specify?”

 As they discussed the problem, the Princess and the gardener’s son determined that it should take the form of a test—difficult but not so difficult as to be impossible. “And it must be ambiguous,” said the gardener’s son, “ so that it is up to you to determine if the man qualifies.” Late that night they finally determined what that qualification must be.

 The next morning the Princess told her father, “I will marry the man who can bring me a blue rose.”

 The neverending stream of suitors ended for none could find a blue rose. 

 A wealthy merchant, not wanting to waste time looking for the blue rose, went to a flower vendor. “I will give you a bag of gold if you can find me a blue rose,” he said. After a long, fruitless search, the flower vendor gave up. He bought a strong dye and dipped the stem into it. The petals of the rose turned a pale blue. “Keep the rose in the vase with the dye,” he told the merchant, “until just before you give it to the Princess.”

 The merchant brought the rose to the Princess. The Princess reached out and took the rose from his hand. As she looked at the rose, a drop of blue dye fell from the stem and puddled in her hand. She looked at the bluish-green leaves and then looked into the merchant’s eyes. He could not meet her gaze. “I cannot marry you,” she said. You have tried to deceive me. I would have a husband who is true.”

 There was a handsome young warrior who would marry the Princess. He was strong and powerful. None dared to stand against him. The young warrior went to the king of a neighboring kingdom. “Bring me the blue rose,” he said, “or I will kill you and half the people in your kingdom.” The king, who valued peace and did not wish to fight, presented the warrior with a blue sapphire that was carved in the shape of a rose.

 The young warrior presented the sapphire rose to the Princess. She looked into his cold eyes—eyes that were as hard as the rose of stone. She said, “I cannot marry you. I must have a blue rose that is real—not one that is cold and hard.”

 The youngest of the king’s advisors also sought the Princess’ hand. He conceived a clever plan. He commissioned an artist to make a blue bowl. On the side of the bowl was painted a blue rose. The rim of the bowl was edged in gold. It was fragile and delicate—a thing of rare beauty. The young advisor presented it to the Princess on bended knee. The Princess looked at the bowl and looked into the eyes of the young man. “Marry me, Princess,” he said, “I will help you rule your kingdom.”

 The Princess shook her head, “I must have a rose that is real.” 

 That evening the Princess sat in the garden talking to the gardener’s son. “None of them could bring me the blue rose. I must marry someone who will be honest and true with me—as you have always been. 

He cannot be hard and cruel. I need someone who is kind and patient—as you have been. 

I do not want a husband who seeks only for power and riches. I want one who will value me for myself—as you have. . . . .” 

 “Princess,” said the gardener’s son. “Tomorrow I will bring you the blue rose. Wait for me in the blue room just before sundown.” 

 The next day when the sun was almost gone, the Princess sat in the blue room. The gardener’s son approached bearing a plain white rose in his hands. 

 “But it is a common white rose,” said one.

 “He is the gardener’s son,” said another.

 “Surely the Princess will send him away,” said a third.

 The gardener’s son knelt before the Princess. Through the blue stain glass windows, the rays of the setting sun shone touched the petals of the white rose. 

 As the Princess reached out to take the rose, a murmur arose. “He is only the gardener’s son.”

“The rose is not truly blue.”

The Princess stood. “My people, let me tell you what I see. I see a young man who has always been honest and true. I see a young man who has had the courage to be patient and kind enough to wait until I knew what was in my heart. I see a young man who values me for myself. In his hands he hold a gift of love. And it is blue. And if you cannot see that the rose is blue, I say that you are colorblind.

The old Emperor took his daughter’s hand and he took the hand of the gardener’s son and joined them. And the Princess married the gardener’s son and they lived happily ever after—not because this storyteller said so—not because that’s the way that love stories should end. But because the Princess and the gardener’s son knew that their happiness was in their own hands and that each was responsible for making sure that the other was happy. 

Retold by Rose Owens

Copyright 2000

the object of a competition

Let's say there's a competition.
You are definitely the subject of this competition, and your competitor the object.

There's one funny thing about this condition.

If the object of your competition is a 3rd party, there will be this negative aura radiating about you. Like you're being an over-ambitious, evil person with desires nothing less than to defeat others.. At least that's what other people might think of you.

But if the object is yourself, people's perceptions change. They go, "oh, he's trying to be a better person. That's really good, it means he never stops challenging and developing himself." Suddenly you have this positive, immaculate, white shiny-light-thingy kind of aura. You're immediately a nice person who tries hard, works hard, and deserves all the ambitions you want to show.

Weird.. But that's what my experiences tell me.

my love for trams is as much as mcdreamy's love for ferries...

I love public transport!
Love the fact i can ride trams everywhere around Melbourne, or a train, or a bus.. anything but the car! Not that i don't love cars, i would be lying if i say i don't.
Cars are handy when u're travelling at night, particularly when it's cold outside.
Still..
Being able to travel without the constraint of a car (oh car-constraints are such a pain! I cannot travel safely -- and still arrive proper smelling and looking -- without a car in Jakarta), and car maintenance costs, and sky-rocketing gas prices; like a Mastercard experience; is priceless..

But there's something that i need to say about trams..

The Tram Ride Awkwardness
I don't know if anybody else has had this experience, but I sometimes feel tram rides are awkward. Like the unspoken rule of not making eye contact with other passenger, not disturbing other's life -- keep still in your own little world in the tram. When you accidentally break this rule, like in a morning tram ride your eyes just happen to sweep across the tram and met the contact of a person, you'll get very awkward. "Should I smile? Should I look away? If I do am I being impolite?" awkward. awkward.

And then the rule of offering your seat to older people especially elder ladies, and to pregnant women.. Those are awkward.. Because sometimes when you do offer your seat in light of politeness, they may not accept it! Worse they got mad at you!
I mean, what did I do? I was just trying to be polite.. DUH. Not that they go all frontal and start yelling or something, but you get that annoyed "i-can-provide-for-myself-without-your-help-thank-you-very-much" tone in their voice.

I guess I was lucky though being a girl. Guys got worse treatments. Who wants to be called a pig chauvinist? I don't even know what a chauvinist is! But pig is enough to tell it's not a good thing (note to self: must google chauvinist).

But anyway, most of the time (esp in morning or afternoon tram rides) i offer my seat to sweet old ladies. Coincidentally, those are the best times for a tram ride (6pm tram rides are full with bitter office workers).

Speaking of sweet old ladies.. On one tram ride to box hill sometime ago, I offered my seat to an old lady. And when she got off, she pat me in the back -- and then smiled most genuinely! Being easily moved, I felt sooo happy that once. all warm and fuzzy. I think she said I'm a good girl or something as she got off. Aww.. What a sweet person =)

Anyway, for my love of the trams, and the belief that there are others like me who enjoys but also suffers from tram rides, I think there should be a guide book for tram ride manners. Or have such a book exist already?

note to self: must google tram ride manners.

educate ourselves

.. through wikipedia and utube!

dingin.. dingin.. melbourne dingin...

brrrrrr..... 14 derajat......

tapi biar dingin pun jalan2 tetep dilaksanakan donggggg!

Hari ini berhubung Earth Hour, bakal ada acara di Federation Square... Jam 8 malem nanti satu kota melbourne akan mematikan lampunya... dan di fed square bakal dibagiin mini torches plus suguhan entertainment gratis.. dan kami anak2 indo yg suka aji mumpung akan berudik2 nontonin lampu dimatiin di fed square sembari menikmati acara gratis tersebut =D

sip dahhhh

?!?! HeLLO?!

Please deh ah! Im so frikkin mad right now! This is the one thing i dont like about living here! I look chinese but it doesnt necessarily mean i speak the language! and so what if im asian? and those old farts! what are they thinking? those lonely old men, AND ALSO the obnoxious young men, argh..! get a life! learn how to behave! maybe u'll get a girl eventually! dumbass stupid cockface!!!!!!!

Living a Charmed Life.. a self-reflection

(writing in regards to my bday -- 16 feb 2008)

I can't believe I'm 21 already. That's a lot of numbers.

Come to think of it, I've never imagined my life farther than being 17. Honestly -- 18, 19, and 20 was surreal to me. It's like I'm living, but not actually in it. 17 was it. That's as far as I go in planning my life -- how I will do my sweet seventeen, what major I will do in uni, what uni I will go to, how I will be living my uni years in an apartment with my besties, then decorate the apt this and that way, and bla bla bla..  That's what I've been doing since I was twelve. I've never really planned things beyond 17.

So when I was 18, 19, and 20; all those years seemed to just pass by, and rapidly too. Maybe because I was not anticipating anything out of them. It was so unlike my teen years..

My teen years....
When I was 12 I can't wait to be 13, and I can perfectly remember all the awkwardness of that age (I think I kept a diary on it). Then I was 13 and I felt older, more like a teenager. When I became 14, I felt like a legitimate teenager, it was so cool. I can finally proudly tell people I'm in middle school. Haha!

By my 15th bday, I was in highschool. Highschool! All the older people in my life have never fell tired telling me how highschool years are the peak of your life. And so I remember being 15 and really feel it inside me. Then I was 16. I felt like a sophisticated older girl then. I don't know, I guess the number 16 made me feel that way.

Finally, I was 17. I was at the final stage of my game. Finally, finally, finally. I'm a highschool senior, I'm living a cool life as a 17 year old! No more lying about your age being afraid to let others know how young you really are! jebus I'm 17! I was young enough to be reckless, to not care about anything that I should care about, to be irresponsible! But I was also old enough to be considered by older people and younger ones. The young ones look up to us wishing they're already 17; and the old ones (parents n teachers especially) sort of develop some kind of understanding towards you -- adolescent, remaja tujuh belas tahun, masa2 SMA -- "I was there" they would say. Older boys definitely notice u because you just entered their age territory, but as a perfectly fresh and new target. Uni boys wohoo! Also, a 17 yr old is young enough to be excused from trying all the newest weirdest trends, and old enough to look good wearing women's fashion.

Oh what a bliss those years were.... But anyway, a year passed and I became 18. then 19. later 20.

The 3 years that went unnoticed (well not exactly, but sort of...)
After 17 I don't really know where to go. I've sort of already reached my goals and objectives. 18 was the point when I should be looking for a new goal, a new plan. And I did kind of had one back then, vaguely and hazily.

But something extravagant happened to me, and I just lost track. Some people would know what 'thing' happened. And although this 'thing' took me off my hazy, vague track; I can't say I regret having it. In fact I should be totally, totally grateful!

Why, you ask me.

Well the 'thing' helped me grew out of Disney's unrealistic love expectations, which I had religiously believed since childhood! Girls must know what I'm talking about -- you don't get a happily ever after having a royal husband/boyfriend! In fact there is no happily ever after. Seriously, in the happily ever after part, after you're married to your royal hottie/after u get in a relationship with ur dreamboy, that's when real life starts. Seriously.

I think they should stop making movies that end when the hero finally confesses his love to the heroine/when the hero finally kisses the heroine/when the hero and heroine finally gets married/when hero finally realized how stupid he was to leave her and comes back to her and he had her at hello.

Seriously, seriously, seriously. (excuse my Obsessive Compulsiveness).

I've said this before, I'm gonna say it again. You don't get happiness by having a boyfriend/being married. Marriage -- and other love relationships -- doesn't give u your happiness. I think you should be happy first before entering into a relationship, not the other way around.

Disney movies and all those Hollywood romantic dramas really delude a girl. Movies are so hyper-realistic..

Anyway, as I was saying...
I lived those 3 years unaware of the world. Like being alive, but not living.

It's most likely bcos I've never really thought about being 18-19-20, and therefore didn't anticipate any of them. Didn't know what to anticipate anyway.

You know what to expect when you're 14,15,16,17.. A cool, teenage life. Thanks to my regular dosage of stereotypical-american-teenage movies, and all the people continuously telling me about the good days of teenage years.

What do they tell you about being 18, 19, 20? If there is something about those years, then it's not that popular nor stereotypical, because I didn't know any stories about how cool it is being 18-19-20. Or if I have, it's not giving that same dramatic effect with stories of being 14-17. In fact, I think those three years are associated with growing up, with having to bear more responsibilities...

So, no wonder I wasn't really anticipating those 3 yrs right?

That is, until my 21st birthday. I came to realize I'm an adult, with responsibilities bigger than I thought I already knew. I can feel it. I feel like a 21 year old, I feel I'm living a life here. It's not surreal like being 18-19-20 were; there is a character to the age 21, much like there are characters to ages 12 to 17.

This must be God's answers to my questions.

You see, during those 3 surreal years, I did think. And at a point I asked myself how I am already a twenty yrs old but not feeling like I'm one. Then God gave me the answers to my questions -- He always do. Nearing my twenty first bday, all things and all lessons rich in value were put on me to bear. House rent, contract agreement, negotiations, financial budgeting, real-life livings; I have to deal with all of them. They all come to me giving me the answers I'm seeking. "You wanna feel like an adult? Here's all things to make u feel like one!" I'd have to say, dealing with those, you cannot not feel old. Hahaaa.

Being 21 =)
I'm an adult, a grown-up!

Now it made me realize I've been living a charmed life, so protected in my parents covenant. Real life, and I don't know how far my discretion is in saying I know real life, is opening up in front of me. I get my parents better now. I get the reasons behind their actions. When you were a child you think your dad is superman, now you know he's just a regular guy with a cape. And you get it why your mom is so patronizing, why she talks so much and scrutiny the littlest insignificant detail, why she seems like she stalks you.

You get it that they love you, and you can honestly say that because u feel it too.

Now

I'm still finding out about being 21 though. The amount of years there indicate I'm an adult, so yeah I'm finding out about being an adult. But I still don't know what I want out of my life -- I don't even know what I want after graduation! Hahaa. I guess at least I realize I've been living a charmed life. Now i can appreciate things more, and start making a life for myself -- not from the resources my parents gave me, but from things I made on my own.

 

January 2008

I have to say the year started with a lot of things to deal with:

1. Fitness First still got my $205.79 (yes, and im not going to shut up until i get them back!) -- I will keep on fighting for my rights! arrrr.

2. College Square hasn't contacted me or my roomate about our apartment deposit or January rent..

3. ... which is troublesome because I need to pay the January rent for my new apartment ...

4. ... which causes another thing because now I feel bad for my cousins to have to deal with this month's rent all by themselves (I'm really sorry!)

5. and there are several other stuff.. four to be exact.. 2 emotional stuffs, 1 money thing, and 1 preparing-for-life's-great-jouney-ahead stuff..

Not that they can't be dealt with; they can (because I believe God has never given me anything I can't handle. Amen. Amen).  It's just there are so many of them! and don't u just want troubles to vaporize into thin air?? gone in a whoosh just like that? i would reeallly love that.

But then, I was taught that patience is virtue. That sometimes "Time" is the best problem solver of all..

and thus I conclude that I have to wait; to deal with them one by one..

Well, 2008 is sure to keep me busy. With all these lining up to take care, I'm sure it's gonna be a year of learning experience, a fun one i hope. and not anywhere near boring!

btw, Happy New Year 2008 everybody!

Me vuelvo loco pensando en tu amor..

And there's no cure, and no way to be sure
Why everything's turned inside out
Instilling so much doubt
It makes me so tired - I feel so uninspired
My head is battling with my heart
My logic has been torn apart

You put the boom-boom into my heart
You send my soul sky high when your lovin' starts
Jitterbug into my brain
Goes a bang-bang-bang 'til my feet do the same

Whenever you're near me, you make me happy and crazy