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.

• Late birthday post

In an attempt to continue my own tradition of cooking yellow rice for my birthday, I sure did put a lot of work doing just that. Unlike in LA, with more friends and booze, this one is more of family get together. Different, but just as celebrating and fun. I got morning kisses from Xave and Keean, and two bouquets of flowers from them. And another bouquet of red roses from Allen.

Irish granted my wish and baked me a german chocolate cake, and when Xave asked how many candles to put on the cake, I laughed and said too many. We settled with 24. Not by choice. That's just how many candles in one package that we have in the house. Haha. I cannot imagine to put 39 candles in one cake and blow them all. Yah, right.

Come 7pm, Allen and I left the house to spend the birthday weekend in DC. He booked a hotel suite for us to stay for the next couple days. He even took a day off on Monday just because he planned for us to see a comedy show late Sunday night. He spoiled me rotten, took me to bar-hopping Saturday night, I got so drunk that night I threw up (ugh). Allen bought me aspirins the next day and cared my drunk ass all Sunday morning. He then drove me around DC while showing me all the places he grew up on, his high school, his college, all the bars and restaurants he once worked as either a valet parking guy or a bouncer. Haha. We also tried all the food places we wanted to try. We took a walk around the block after an early dinner, looking at the houses in Woodley Park area, holding hands and stopped to kiss each other in between. That... was cute.

The comedy show was a lot of fun too. Allen was very affectionate, so we got roasted a little during the show, but we took it like champions. Hehe. After the show, we had a super late dinner at a kebab place, and ended up busy looking for parking nearby the hotel just to avoid getting up early in the morning to move it to avoid getting a ticket. That was rather fun too. Monday we woke up late, had a late brunch, and drove home with a full stomach. He stayed with me til 1am Tuesday before he headed home. I missed him soon after he left.

All in all, he treated me like a princess this past weekend and made sure I could do no wrong. Oh how I wish every day is like that. Hey, a girl can wish, right? :o)

I then spent the rest of the week working off all the weight I put on doing hot yoga twice a week.
Oh joy!

-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