Wish List
This son of mine has already made a wish list for Valentine. Ohkay, so it only contained one item: a video camera. But it's still a list. I am fond of making lists. So, why not make a wish list on my own?
Wish List:
Dragonlance Campaign Setting
Have always wanted to have it since I got my Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting. Ohkay, so I don't play D&D. I do enjoy reading the information about one of my favorite lands, Krynn, though.
The Annotated Chronicles and Legends (Dragonlance) by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
I'd love to see their comments of my favorite trilogies. My most favorite is Chronicles, though my twin bro, Andi Saptono, prefers Legends.
A digital camera
So that, whenever I want to take pictures of my beloved cats, I don't have borrow my father's or my brother's.
Numerous pots and fertilizers for planting seeds
More black candles
For spells of banishing. They're getting harder and harder to find!
Essential Oils
I need lavender, sandalwood, ylang ylang, tea tree.
An Indian Saree
Red pashmina shawl
Clay Aiken's CD and singles
Especially the single containing the song Solitaire.
Silver or gold locket.
What else? Enough for now, I guess.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Friday, February 13, 2004
How to Survive Dealing with Customs Officials
Two days ago I had to go to Bandung's central post office. I received a package from Holland containing seeds that, in their own term, were suspicious-looking. So I went there. I had to ask four officials first before they managed to show me the direction to take to the customs office. It was way in the back. Needless to say I was quite lost. I had to ask three people for directions before I was finally ushered to a small, cramped room that smelt of stale coffee and tobacco.
Back to the front part of the post office again. Had to ask a couple of officials before I was able to buy it. Then I returned to the customs office, writing a letter, signing it, affixing the materai, then handing it to the first official. Another official wrapped the whole package, saying that I should pay Rp. 7,000 to an official in the front part of the post office.
On our way there, the second offical stated blatantly that I should pay a thank-you fee to them for releasing the seeds. "We ought to put these seeds to quarantine first, you know, but in this case we decide to relent. So it's only fitting that you should give us some money." Those were his own very words. I rummaged through my purse, found a ten thousand note, then gave it to him. He complained, saying that it wasn't enough. I applied one of my best skills: acting dumb, pretending not to understand him. (it helps a lot when you're good-looking. Some people still think that beautiful girls are airheads.)
The whole process took no less than thirty minutes. I emerged from the post office a free woman, carrying the package that was rightfully mine. It contained a short letter from my dear sister in Holland, Monique Poulussen, Holland crocus seeds and a ceramic pot, and an elegant party bag.
In a nutshell, if you have to deal with these annoying, money-hungry people, it is best to:
1. Agree to whatever they say, no matter how silly it is. If they say you're stupid, agree whole-heartedly. But never ever agree when they demand more money. Pretend not to hear them at this point.
2. Play dumb.
3. Hone your skill in emotional blackmail.
4. Be charming. Praise and thank them for every thing they do or say.
5. Dress accordingly. Don't be an extremist. Avoid looking like a street urchin or a wealthy person. Wear neutral colors like brown, beige, navy, etc.
The sad thing is, I know, sooner or later I'll receive another letter of notification, meaning, I have to deal with these annoying people again. I might use a different tactic next time. Oh well. It's like a constant battle where you're expected to lose.
Two days ago I had to go to Bandung's central post office. I received a package from Holland containing seeds that, in their own term, were suspicious-looking. So I went there. I had to ask four officials first before they managed to show me the direction to take to the customs office. It was way in the back. Needless to say I was quite lost. I had to ask three people for directions before I was finally ushered to a small, cramped room that smelt of stale coffee and tobacco.
First Official: Do you know what you have received from Holland, Ma'am?After twenty minutes of intense interrogation, they were satisfied. They asked me to buy a 6,000 materai in a locket then make a letter stating that the seeds were to be used for my own benefit, and, should they caused any ill-effects, I wouldn't sue the postal service.
Me: (confused) From the letter that you sent me, I gathered that somebody sent me seeds.
First Official: Aha! So you admit that you asked somebody in Holland to send you some seeds.
Me: I didn't say that. I didn't even know who sent me the seeds. I only know from the letter that you sent me.
First Official: Well. Somebody from Holland sent you some seeds that we cannot identify.
Me: (Have a sinking feeling that this is getting nowhere.)
First Official: Can you identify the seeds?
Me: (Fighting to keep myself calm.) I can't. I haven't even seen the seeds yet.
First Official: Oh. (Opening the package containing the seeds.)
Me: (Looking at the seeds in a pot carefully.) Well, sir, I have no idea what this is.
First Official: We haven't either, that is why we're calling you here.
Me: (Looking at the short letter and the packaging.) Maybe they're the seeds for Holland crocus? It says so on the package.
First Official: (Looking at me smugly.) We know that already.
Back to the front part of the post office again. Had to ask a couple of officials before I was able to buy it. Then I returned to the customs office, writing a letter, signing it, affixing the materai, then handing it to the first official. Another official wrapped the whole package, saying that I should pay Rp. 7,000 to an official in the front part of the post office.
On our way there, the second offical stated blatantly that I should pay a thank-you fee to them for releasing the seeds. "We ought to put these seeds to quarantine first, you know, but in this case we decide to relent. So it's only fitting that you should give us some money." Those were his own very words. I rummaged through my purse, found a ten thousand note, then gave it to him. He complained, saying that it wasn't enough. I applied one of my best skills: acting dumb, pretending not to understand him. (it helps a lot when you're good-looking. Some people still think that beautiful girls are airheads.)
The whole process took no less than thirty minutes. I emerged from the post office a free woman, carrying the package that was rightfully mine. It contained a short letter from my dear sister in Holland, Monique Poulussen, Holland crocus seeds and a ceramic pot, and an elegant party bag.
In a nutshell, if you have to deal with these annoying, money-hungry people, it is best to:
1. Agree to whatever they say, no matter how silly it is. If they say you're stupid, agree whole-heartedly. But never ever agree when they demand more money. Pretend not to hear them at this point.
2. Play dumb.
3. Hone your skill in emotional blackmail.
4. Be charming. Praise and thank them for every thing they do or say.
5. Dress accordingly. Don't be an extremist. Avoid looking like a street urchin or a wealthy person. Wear neutral colors like brown, beige, navy, etc.
The sad thing is, I know, sooner or later I'll receive another letter of notification, meaning, I have to deal with these annoying people again. I might use a different tactic next time. Oh well. It's like a constant battle where you're expected to lose.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
It's All About Communication...
...today. Went to the post office to post a dozen or so letters. Chatted with the postmaster. He brought back a glimpse of the past, for he used to be posted on my campus' post office.
Checked my mails. Found out that this son of mine wrote me a mail. Replied the mail and sent him an SMS. We then SMS-ed for a while.
Checked my old time planner. Found an address of my former spoken English teacher in Texas. Decided to write her a letter.
Got a call from my mother-in-law.
Got an e mail from a dear friend in Surabaya. (yeah, you, Poetoe, you)
Also from Dino Setiawan and Eric Peele.
And the most amazing thing of the day! I got a mail! Actually it was for isman, but since I'm his partner it means it's mine as well.
I am happy when communication is in the air.
...today. Went to the post office to post a dozen or so letters. Chatted with the postmaster. He brought back a glimpse of the past, for he used to be posted on my campus' post office.
Checked my mails. Found out that this son of mine wrote me a mail. Replied the mail and sent him an SMS. We then SMS-ed for a while.
Checked my old time planner. Found an address of my former spoken English teacher in Texas. Decided to write her a letter.
Got a call from my mother-in-law.
Got an e mail from a dear friend in Surabaya. (yeah, you, Poetoe, you)
Also from Dino Setiawan and Eric Peele.
And the most amazing thing of the day! I got a mail! Actually it was for isman, but since I'm his partner it means it's mine as well.
I am happy when communication is in the air.
On Other People's Weddings and Mine
My partner and I attended three weddings last week. The first wedding, we came too late (9.40) for ijab kabul. My friend told me it would be done at 10 in the morning. However, they decided to do it at 9.15 and it lasted for about 10 minutes.
The second one, we arrived on time. To our annoyance we found out that it was about 45 minutes late. Other streaming guests were edgy as well, for I could sense hostility, weariness, and anticipation in the air.
The third wedding was even worse. It was an hour and ten minutes late. And they thought it would be best if relatives and dear friends took pictures with the bride and groom while the guests were waiting impatiently for the chance to shake hands or try the buffet.
Brides and grooms in the three weddings all looked tired and sullen. They smiled all right, fake little smiles that they hoped would humor the guests.
It's not surprising. Not at all. For my partner and I have been to many weddings and most brides and grooms were like that. Based on this, we decided to enjoy our wedding intensely for our sake and the guests'. And we certainly didn't want the guests to wait too long.
Our wedding was also late. 10-15 minutes. We decided to run (wearing tight batik and all) to the building. (from a small room where our make ups were being retouched. Yes. isman wore make up.) Before that, he came out of the room wearing beskap and all with shorts, for he wanted a quick visit to the bathroom, ignoring blatant stares from guests and relatives. We just wanted things to be done as soon as possible.
My brocade kebaya was making me itch. I was dying to get rid of my hairdo that weighed about ten tons and a hundred layers of powder and rouge. isman was battling with an insect that somehow managed to crawl inside his clothes. Yet we came out with winning smiles and sincere words to greet the guests. We really enjoyed everything. And we thought, most guests and relatives were pleased as well. (Not all, for we can't please everyone, can we?) That's very important.
It's just a matter of choice. So, to all of you out there who are about to get married, enjoy it. It's your day. One of the most memorable days in your life. Don't let anything hinder you to smile. People come to congratulate you, to utter their wishes and prayers. As the kings and queens of the day, it's only fitting for you to give sincere smiles to the well-wishers. What say you?
My partner and I attended three weddings last week. The first wedding, we came too late (9.40) for ijab kabul. My friend told me it would be done at 10 in the morning. However, they decided to do it at 9.15 and it lasted for about 10 minutes.
The second one, we arrived on time. To our annoyance we found out that it was about 45 minutes late. Other streaming guests were edgy as well, for I could sense hostility, weariness, and anticipation in the air.
The third wedding was even worse. It was an hour and ten minutes late. And they thought it would be best if relatives and dear friends took pictures with the bride and groom while the guests were waiting impatiently for the chance to shake hands or try the buffet.
Brides and grooms in the three weddings all looked tired and sullen. They smiled all right, fake little smiles that they hoped would humor the guests.
It's not surprising. Not at all. For my partner and I have been to many weddings and most brides and grooms were like that. Based on this, we decided to enjoy our wedding intensely for our sake and the guests'. And we certainly didn't want the guests to wait too long.
Our wedding was also late. 10-15 minutes. We decided to run (wearing tight batik and all) to the building. (from a small room where our make ups were being retouched. Yes. isman wore make up.) Before that, he came out of the room wearing beskap and all with shorts, for he wanted a quick visit to the bathroom, ignoring blatant stares from guests and relatives. We just wanted things to be done as soon as possible.
My brocade kebaya was making me itch. I was dying to get rid of my hairdo that weighed about ten tons and a hundred layers of powder and rouge. isman was battling with an insect that somehow managed to crawl inside his clothes. Yet we came out with winning smiles and sincere words to greet the guests. We really enjoyed everything. And we thought, most guests and relatives were pleased as well. (Not all, for we can't please everyone, can we?) That's very important.
It's just a matter of choice. So, to all of you out there who are about to get married, enjoy it. It's your day. One of the most memorable days in your life. Don't let anything hinder you to smile. People come to congratulate you, to utter their wishes and prayers. As the kings and queens of the day, it's only fitting for you to give sincere smiles to the well-wishers. What say you?
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Someday My Prince Will Come...
Maybe every girl in this planet has this thought at least once. Well, I did. Years and years ago, when I dare to call myself foolish and naive, looking at the world with eyes wide open, expecting and hoping too much.
I thought of myself as a princess. And in fairy tales, princesses will eventually meet their princes. It made me wonder, who my prince would be? How would he look? How would he talk? Would he lead me to bliss and live together happily ever after? Would he wake me with a simple kiss? Would he ask me to try a glass shoe? Would he climb the tower using my hair, enticed by my beautiful voice? The list of questions kept on growing and growing. I deluded myself with silly, romantic thoughts and notions, oblivious to the fact that I was dealing with reality, not fantasy.
Now that I have grown I realize that there are princes, knights, kings, and many more. I can see the qualities in my loved ones. Andi Saptono is clearly a prince, bathed in radiance and light, an epitome of goodness. I'm sure he'd object to me saying this, for he often said that his path was located in the darkness. But I could look right into his heart. I know the truth. Dino Setiawan is a knight. He liked to fantasize himself as a black-armored knight. Sammy Halim, Alfatih, John Fernando are knights as well. I can picture their armors shining bright, their virtues well-known. It differs a bit in Nando's case, though. He is a bit like me, a meddling-watcher. My ex was a king. He likes to command, not liking the fact that sometimes he has responsibilities to take care of.
I also realize that I am not a princess. Dino Turino Setiawan said once that I was a handmaiden. Always willing to help and serve. That was close, but not quite. My partner said that I had some knight qualities. That's true in some ways. I used to admire Sturm Brightblade in Dragonlance. Only in recent years I noticed that Brightblade's honor seemed to be rigid and sometimes silly. Being honorable is good, but not too honorable. I want to have a long and happy life.
I am a healer. An advisor. A druid, even. I tamper with things, bending them to my will. In some ways my Quisalas and I are kindred spirits. For he is a jester. If I marry a king I might have a kingdom to rule. By marrying a jester I could rule the whole universe.
Maybe every girl in this planet has this thought at least once. Well, I did. Years and years ago, when I dare to call myself foolish and naive, looking at the world with eyes wide open, expecting and hoping too much.
I thought of myself as a princess. And in fairy tales, princesses will eventually meet their princes. It made me wonder, who my prince would be? How would he look? How would he talk? Would he lead me to bliss and live together happily ever after? Would he wake me with a simple kiss? Would he ask me to try a glass shoe? Would he climb the tower using my hair, enticed by my beautiful voice? The list of questions kept on growing and growing. I deluded myself with silly, romantic thoughts and notions, oblivious to the fact that I was dealing with reality, not fantasy.
Now that I have grown I realize that there are princes, knights, kings, and many more. I can see the qualities in my loved ones. Andi Saptono is clearly a prince, bathed in radiance and light, an epitome of goodness. I'm sure he'd object to me saying this, for he often said that his path was located in the darkness. But I could look right into his heart. I know the truth. Dino Setiawan is a knight. He liked to fantasize himself as a black-armored knight. Sammy Halim, Alfatih, John Fernando are knights as well. I can picture their armors shining bright, their virtues well-known. It differs a bit in Nando's case, though. He is a bit like me, a meddling-watcher. My ex was a king. He likes to command, not liking the fact that sometimes he has responsibilities to take care of.
I also realize that I am not a princess. Dino Turino Setiawan said once that I was a handmaiden. Always willing to help and serve. That was close, but not quite. My partner said that I had some knight qualities. That's true in some ways. I used to admire Sturm Brightblade in Dragonlance. Only in recent years I noticed that Brightblade's honor seemed to be rigid and sometimes silly. Being honorable is good, but not too honorable. I want to have a long and happy life.
I am a healer. An advisor. A druid, even. I tamper with things, bending them to my will. In some ways my Quisalas and I are kindred spirits. For he is a jester. If I marry a king I might have a kingdom to rule. By marrying a jester I could rule the whole universe.
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