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Wednesday, May 20, 2009 • 11:13 AM
• The Perfect Husband
Just a quick intermezzo from the whole drama between B and I, I thought I'd post the essay I've been working on. It's an ironic-style of essay about a perfect husband, mocking the spoiled rich wife of his. An anti-thesis to "I Want a Wife" essay by Judy Brady.
I picked this topic because it's very challenging to be mocking a wife, while I was one myself. I was a much better wife tho. Haha.. anyways.. here it is.
“My water broke!” She yelled out on the phone, “My dad is taking me to the hospital, meet me there!” and clicked. She hung up the phone while I was still running to the garage to get to my car.
Driving to the hospital – sweating, and trying to catch my breath – I thought about my pregnant wife who is about to give birth to our second child. I gave the loudest sigh.
The day we found out she was pregnant was the day my nightmare began. It was the day I started to question myself about whether or not I have been a perfect husband to my oh-so-lovely wife.
The husband who is a gentleman that never fails to open the door – any door – for her. The perfect husband who would care for her, while constantly being reminded of how hard it is to be pregnant. The husband who makes hot peppermint tea with two – not one, not three, but two – teaspoonfuls of sugar for her every time she has morning sickness and the one who rubs her feet when she’s tired.
The husband who has dedicated his life to making his wife happy and the one who has committed his life to provide the good life for his family knowing she was from a wealthy family. The one whose life goal is to prove that he could spoil his wife the way her parents do.
The husband who understands her needs, especially her shopping needs; regardless of how many extra hours he has to work to fulfill this need.
The husband who patiently goes shopping with his wife, agreeing that shopping is a sport. A husband who never thinks she has enough shoes or purses; never thinks she could never have too many clothes, while he owns and only needs three pairs of shoes – tops. The one who is good at giving opinions at choosing the pair of shoes that would look perfect with her dress. The one that knows Peach, Plum and Pumpkin are not only fruits, but a color as well. The one who knows what to say perfectly whether or not she looks good in a certain dress, the one who says she does not look fat in it, and means it.
The husband who puts away his wife’s half-drank water bottles around the house, the one who picks up hair in the shower drain. The husband who walks the dog every night without a single complaint; even though she is home all day watching home shopping channel; after all she is pregnant, remember?
The husband who should never forget to put the toilet seat down because she does not want to touch it, yet he should never complain when she leaves it down. The one who should never make a big deal out of her leaving the lights on before bed or before going out; meanwhile, he should remember to never leave the toothpaste open on the sink because it is her biggest pet peeve.
The husband who showers her with presents – perfect presents –, and flowers (pink or red roses only, please), and would never forget Anniversaries, Birthdays, Valentines, and Mother’s Day; otherwise, it would turn into an argument.
The husband who has a psychic ability to interpret every argument that when she said nothing, it means something; when she said maybe, it means no; when she said yes, it means no; and when she said no, it also means no. The one who catches every hint she throws during a simple conversation and knows what to say without being interpreted something negative to make her angry or sad.
The husband who is – willingly – doing Cosmopolitan quizzes with his wife, rather than watching his favorite sports channel on Sundays, in order to spend more time with her. The husband who prefers to spend time with his wife at home than going out with the guys; and when I do go out with friends, I should be the husband who always thinks about her while out and knows well enough that there is a curfew. The one who realizes that being able to go out with friends is a privilege; which could also mean I have to take her out to a fancy restaurant in return.
Rrriiing! I frantically picked up the phone, and before I even said hello…
“WHERE ARE YOU NOW??!” my wife was on the other end, yelling.
“I’m on my way, baby. LA traffic. You know how it is. How are you feeling?” I answered and did my best to remain calm.
“What do you mean how I’m feeling?! Get yourself over here quick! You better be here before the baby is! YOU did this to me!” and clicked.
I was wrong. The nightmare is not over.
I picked this topic because it's very challenging to be mocking a wife, while I was one myself. I was a much better wife tho. Haha.. anyways.. here it is.
The Perfect Husband
Finally, the nightmare will be over! I thought as I ran out the office as quickly as I could. I held the phone to my ear with the help of my shoulder, while I had my coffee mug in one hand and computer bag in the other.“My water broke!” She yelled out on the phone, “My dad is taking me to the hospital, meet me there!” and clicked. She hung up the phone while I was still running to the garage to get to my car.
Driving to the hospital – sweating, and trying to catch my breath – I thought about my pregnant wife who is about to give birth to our second child. I gave the loudest sigh.
The day we found out she was pregnant was the day my nightmare began. It was the day I started to question myself about whether or not I have been a perfect husband to my oh-so-lovely wife.
The husband who is a gentleman that never fails to open the door – any door – for her. The perfect husband who would care for her, while constantly being reminded of how hard it is to be pregnant. The husband who makes hot peppermint tea with two – not one, not three, but two – teaspoonfuls of sugar for her every time she has morning sickness and the one who rubs her feet when she’s tired.
The husband who has dedicated his life to making his wife happy and the one who has committed his life to provide the good life for his family knowing she was from a wealthy family. The one whose life goal is to prove that he could spoil his wife the way her parents do.
The husband who understands her needs, especially her shopping needs; regardless of how many extra hours he has to work to fulfill this need.
The husband who patiently goes shopping with his wife, agreeing that shopping is a sport. A husband who never thinks she has enough shoes or purses; never thinks she could never have too many clothes, while he owns and only needs three pairs of shoes – tops. The one who is good at giving opinions at choosing the pair of shoes that would look perfect with her dress. The one that knows Peach, Plum and Pumpkin are not only fruits, but a color as well. The one who knows what to say perfectly whether or not she looks good in a certain dress, the one who says she does not look fat in it, and means it.
The husband who puts away his wife’s half-drank water bottles around the house, the one who picks up hair in the shower drain. The husband who walks the dog every night without a single complaint; even though she is home all day watching home shopping channel; after all she is pregnant, remember?
The husband who should never forget to put the toilet seat down because she does not want to touch it, yet he should never complain when she leaves it down. The one who should never make a big deal out of her leaving the lights on before bed or before going out; meanwhile, he should remember to never leave the toothpaste open on the sink because it is her biggest pet peeve.
The husband who showers her with presents – perfect presents –, and flowers (pink or red roses only, please), and would never forget Anniversaries, Birthdays, Valentines, and Mother’s Day; otherwise, it would turn into an argument.
The husband who has a psychic ability to interpret every argument that when she said nothing, it means something; when she said maybe, it means no; when she said yes, it means no; and when she said no, it also means no. The one who catches every hint she throws during a simple conversation and knows what to say without being interpreted something negative to make her angry or sad.
The husband who is – willingly – doing Cosmopolitan quizzes with his wife, rather than watching his favorite sports channel on Sundays, in order to spend more time with her. The husband who prefers to spend time with his wife at home than going out with the guys; and when I do go out with friends, I should be the husband who always thinks about her while out and knows well enough that there is a curfew. The one who realizes that being able to go out with friends is a privilege; which could also mean I have to take her out to a fancy restaurant in return.
Rrriiing! I frantically picked up the phone, and before I even said hello…
“WHERE ARE YOU NOW??!” my wife was on the other end, yelling.
“I’m on my way, baby. LA traffic. You know how it is. How are you feeling?” I answered and did my best to remain calm.
“What do you mean how I’m feeling?! Get yourself over here quick! You better be here before the baby is! YOU did this to me!” and clicked.
I was wrong. The nightmare is not over.
• her bad ass self •
-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]
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]
•she liKes
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)
shE •diSlikes
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
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