stories of some bad ass girl

l blah l theGirl l rants l oldStuff l linkies l

Welcome to my blog.
If you have this url, you're prolly one of the chosen ones.

By reading my blog, you agree to:
Have fun reading it.
Comment only if you must.
Bear with my randomness.
Not be judgemental. Not towards me at least.

• St Lucia be trippin'!

Hun - I don't do mixed signals. If that's how you want to play the field, I'm out. :)

• That pattern though..

Yesterday, I went to this emotional wellness with Muslimah group, thinking it would just be a get together for like.. girl-bonding or some sort.
It turns out to be intense and heavy..

One lady started first, she went all the way to her earliest memory at age of 3 and as I listened to her.. I couldn't help but to feel embarrassed to ever think my life was hard and tough. Hers was 10x worse than mine if not more, imho and look at her, she seems to be holding up just fine. I cried towards halfway of her sharing the story. If it were painful for me to hear, I couldn't imagine myself having to experience it.

When it was my turn, I shared the earliest memory of age 10, when I moved to this Catholic school in Semarang and I couldn't make a single friend because I was a Muslim and from a mid-class family. I remember being teased for not wearing anything new on first day of school. Not even for school supplies. Interestingly enough, I remember telling myself that if I could survive just a year in that school, I would be fine. Because I knew my parents would move back to Yogya the next year and I could go to public school there and I would make TONS of friends there. Which I did. :)

I went over my loss history graph going through each time/year that I had to deal with pain, losses, breakups, death, etc. As expected, I started crying when I shared about my divorces, when I moved and then I had to stop myself when I told them about my dad. It was.. tough. The 3 girls were also crying haha. At the end of my sentence, I realized something. There's a pattern. I shared it with the group before I ended my session, but in all honesty, I am still processing it and somewhat in denial of it.

There may be a reason that my experience repeats itself. Not necessarily the exact same thing happened to me over and over again, rather.. it's the way I deal with it is similar.

Actually I don't.
That's the pattern.. I don't deal with pain/disappointment/loss/heartache.
I bury it and run away.
I create a new environment that excites me enough to forget the pain.

• About getting older

It's the last day of September, my birthday month, and I can honestly say:
I love getting older. I enjoy going through trial and error in life, trying different jobs, different relationships, gaining and losing friendships, different diets and workouts. I love the fact that I've lived, traveled, and been in different countries and states and cities, exploring other cultures and friendships.

Over the years, I learned that I can survive things, despite the moves, the breakups, the loss and the changes, and managed to love myself more along the way. I learned to appreciate the simplest things to the obvious; family/friends/work, fall leaves and snowfall, smell of morning coffee, the occasional back pain :D, the getting lost without wifi in a foreign country, the new people I meet, etc. Those life experiences have been the best teacher.

So much I've learned, but most of all, I've learned that I am still learning!
Once again, happy birthday to me. Here's to many more life experiences ahead of me!

• lost in translation

Here's some funny to remember:
At the dinner table, StLucia touched my leg by mistake and he politely said,
"Sorry, I didn't mean to touch your foot"
I looked at him, smiled and calmly replied, "You didn't."

He didn't get the joke.

Great - this is like dating Laz all over again. :D

• BRU-AMS

Happy birthday to me and I am back!! :)

The Europe trip was much needed and enjoyable, to say the least. It was one of the two trips I bought impulsively when I broke up with Allen hehe. One for my birthday present, the next one in October will be because I always wanted to go to Canada, whichever part it may be. Ok, where do I start...

That Wednesday, someone showed up at exactly 5pm as instructed if he really wanted to drop me off at the airport and hugged me goodbye. He even cleaned his car trunk to stow my luggage. Brownie point. He promised to text and call, even when he's in Cancun, and set a date on the day he's back (which is tomorrow!). He did all that, and we talked on the phone few times when time allows.

It was September 14 when I landed in Bruxelles. My birthday. My phone was off the hook with texts, WA messages, FB posts/messengers, Slack messages from people at work - Alhamdulillah. Grateful that I have people care enough to send their birthday wishes. That alone, brought smiles to my face all day. Not to mention, that someone surprised me with a call and singing happy birthday that night to my ear across thousand miles. Two brownie points.

Anyway, I got to the train station underneath the airport and when I put it my credit card, it kept failing to charge. Ah - I forgot to call my CC companies that I'd be traveling. So I went on Skype and called a couple of them. Got that resolved quick and was told my train leaves in 5 minutes. I ran and got into it just on time. I took the wrong train, of course. Haha. That's what I got for not paying attention which platform I shouldve gotten on. Ehh. Calmly I got out at some random sketchy looking station and looked at the board for schedules. Had to wait about half an hour to get on the right platform for the right train. When I got off at Gare de Bruxelles-Nord, I confidently walked towards who knows where. No Wifi - my roaming plan didn't work. So I relied on asking strangers on streets the route to get to my hotel. Fast forward 45 minutes of walking around in the rain dragging my carry-on. I managed to get to the hotel. Precisely 3 hours after I landed.

Over the next 3 days, all I did was walking around, enjoying every new spot/city I found, getting lost along the way, trying public transportation, then getting lost again, eating food I have never had before, buying chocolates like nobody's business, getting myself a nice birthday gift as if the trip itself not enough, talking to strangers at random places, taking pictures, indulging every minutes I spent there, stopping to breathe the air, getting rained on without umbrellas, watching all kinds of people mixed in the crowds in the middle of the cities' landmarks. I took a day trip to Ghent and Brugge and omg - Brugge is the highlight of my trip. Such a beautiful little town all around. I actually didn't getting lost and trying to find my way back to the tour bus. I thought, what's the worst that I could happen if I missed the bus? I would end up staying the night in this amazing little town! Hey, why not! :) But I managed.

And then comes... Amsterdam. A whole another experience in itself. Such a beautiful-lively-sin city, kind of remind me of Las Vegas. A gothic, old city version of it. Young, free spirited crowds everywhere, smoking weed, getting drunk, and staying up all night partying. That, is Vegas to me. I told my friends, somehow I wished I went there in my partying age. I might've gotten in trouble if I did that. Or married some crackhead there - who knows. That would've been a blow though. Haha!

Just like I did in Brussels, I walked miles and miles around the city. My legs at some point gave up on me, so I had to mix it up with taking the tram here and there. There were so much to see there I am sure I missed few places to visit. But even that, I had to stop myself few times and tell myself to sit down, have coffee and just sit down people watching.

It's that feeling of being in a foreign place, not knowing anyone, not relying on anyone, not having to cater for anyone's needs, and just following what I feel like doing that very moment of time.. is priceless. In that moment, I said a silent prayer and gratitude that I was able to have such experience. I am praying I'm given another opportunity and time to do something like this over and over and over again. Aamiin.

• Say what?

Uh-oh. What is this?
Butterflies in my stomach?
Whaaaat.
Not before my Europe and his Cancun trips!!
If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. InshaAllah.

• European hours starts.. NOW.

After a discussion with the bosses last week, I started working "European" hours at 6a-2p today. It was a breeze to get in to office that early morning - 5 minute commute! Can't beat that. I am a morning person after all, I found myself getting more shit done all morning and didn't stop until about 11am. By then, I am only 3 hours away to go home.

Another exciting part is I have been given a more diverse role. Whoever said Executive Assistant cannot take on supervisory role needs to learn more about the role itself. Not only do I get to play a pivotal role in supporting all 4 C-Levels in US and Europe, I will now get my hands on the finance, HR and infrastructure part of the company. Now that I support Dom, who's promoted to Managing Directory last Spring, I also get to manage and train the office managers in London and Iceland office. They put me in charge for building the training manual for EA and Office Managers and now part of the new employee onboarding process. Then, I now review and approve employees' expense reports on behalf of the CEO. And the most challenging task is being part of the team for the development of the new product. Can't say it outloud here, but this is something I know nothing about. Definitely beyond my comfort zone. I will have a whole lot to learn in the next few months before customer testing in December.

I tell ya, they sure know how to keep me challenged and motivated. But bring it on.. I'm one who's always up for stretching my limits.. Rockstar is my middle name after all (ha!)

Oh, and leaving at 2pm will give me more freedom to do outdoorsy stuff, ie: hiking etc. Alhamdulillah!

-trias-
-los angeles-

I've always been different growing up. My being the 3rd (middle) child might have added to it too, maybe. You know the old saying about being the middle child often has the sense of not belonging, the feeling of invisibility, which makes them try harder to get the attention from the parents to make them stand out more than the first and last child. They (read: experts and/or old people) even have it called a 'middle child syndrome'. I don't know... But yea, I grew up trying my best to annoy my parents, well, in my defense, I don't think I did it consciously. Compared to my other siblings, I wasn't the most polite child (my oldest sister was), nor the cutest (my youngest sister), and not even the worst (my brother haha!). Well, maybe I'm the second worst, which wasn't anything I should be proud of.

I grew up thinking I could do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING. The sky was (and is) my limit. I was a tomboy and a bad kid too (I skipped school a lot during my junior high and finally got caught by my dad and boy did I pay much for it). I always love boys too. I know how to get them just by talking to them. I was (hopefully still is) a Miss Personality. I dated a lot. From one boy to another. I was obnoxiously flirty. My mom had (still has) problems with this "habit" of mine for liking boys so much. I always love English language. I wanted to travel overseas and spoke the universal language to anyone and everyone. I grew up knowing that if I speak English, everyone in this world would understand what I say. Make sense, right? Then I also always wanted to work in an office. I wanted to be a career woman, an independent woman who can afford anything on her own. I wanted to be bigger than the biggest.

Which isn't normal in any Indonesian culture guidebook.

By standards, an Indonesian woman is expected to be a good wife. Period. Oh yes, she can work, she can drive a car, she can play basketball, but at the end of the day, she MUST learn how to and become a good wife. Hey, first off, I'm not saying it's bad, I think it's great that a woman can be a good wife, but COME ON!! We, women, can become much more than that. We can be something bigger than that. Again, it's great to be a good wife, but when it's expected by the society, I think it's ridiculously silly. Human is human, regardless of its gender. We, women, should be allowed to have the same choices and opportunities as men, in any part of the world. Unfortunately, not in my part of the world. So yea, I'm fucked.

Before you punch me in the face for saying so, let me say this.

I tried.
No. Not just tried. I did what was expected of me as an Indonesian woman. Yes yes, I was married and did my best to be a good wife. Actually, I was a great wife. I did my best living my life by Indonesian standards. I was happy, but I turned into a different person who lived under a shadow of the person I was with. Yet, in my head, there's always this big question mark: Now what? Why do I feel lost being in this "happy" marriage? So, when the marriage fell apart, aside from feeling like the biggest failure in the face of the earth, I also felt..... relieved. Not happy, but relieved. For a few who knew me from/before the day I failed my marriage should know how devastated I was . I was broken, pathetic, lost, and pushed to the weakest point of my life. I lived in my own lonely little pathetic world (celibacy was part of it too) for a good one year.

But then I snapped out of it. HUGE thanks to my family and few of my friends who stood by me, helping me going through the worse time of my life. Kar who bought me a TV soon as I moved in to my own studio apartment. Sus who forced me to go get a vibrator to get through the celibacy time. Mel who gave me this silly book, sort of a guide, on how to be a BAD girl. Before I knew it, there I was having a buck fuddy, OK, two. ^-^

I learned my lesson the day I failed my marriage. Following the standard of a society is a good thing, but doesn't necessarily make one happy. Since then, I learned to live my life by whatever makes me happy. Sound selfish? Yes and No. It is a simple way of a person who wants to be happy. It is also my choice to make everyday a good day. To have a great time during miserable time. To be half full instead of half empty. It's my choice to laugh and not cry. To let go of hate and stop worrying so much. I learn to know that nothing, I repeat, NOTHING is a big deal. Because it doesn't matter how big of a problem I have, there's always someone else out there with a bigger problem. That's, my friend, when I know the exact meaning of "count your blessings".

Fast forward: Entering the 4th year of divorce anniversary *grinning*. Here I am. Stronger than ever. Bad ass for life. ^o^
[Monday, April 21, 2008]

Her mom and siblings and niece and nephew, movies, movies, movies, hats, unicorns, to smile and laugh, her friends, a Vinci Code, Mashimaro, manggo, black shirts, Gym, vodka-holic, tom Welling, dark chocolatte cuz its bitter, Korean language, Retro necklaces, Jeong ji-hoon, iPhones, Venice Beach, Nordstrom rack, hot guys with british accents, web design, Ebay, blogging (duh)

Pretentiousness, running (be in on a treadmill or outside), humidity, her left thumb, hypocrites, dangdut, hung-over, white shirts, tight pants, sandwich and salads, cowboy hats, black coffee, slow wifi