Tuesday, March 30, 2010

the durian mission

I'm the kind of girl who eats nearly everything. I'm always hungry and I eat faster than most people. And when it comes to food I am gutsy too. I eat almost everything: innards, raw or half-dead animals, dried insects, anything.

Except durian. I hate durian with contempt. Not that I ever tasted one. The smell for me is so horrible I can't stomach the thought of bringing it to my mouth. It's like eating a dead person.

There aren't that many things that I dislike in life because my level of tolerance is relatively high. Besides durian, the things that I dislike are screaming children, loud-voiced men who think too highly of themselves (I can accept these qualities in women because I think insecure, high-powered women are funny. Men however, are pathetic if they have these qualities), smelly people, and performance appraisal.

I love my job, I really do. I have one of the coolest jobs which lets me be myself while selling something once in a while. But year after year I am always presented with this mission statement and that, ladies and gentlemen, freaks me out.

I don't have any mission statement. Or rather, I have no mission whatsoever. I just happen to like my job, that's all. For me, setting some sort of goal to it is diminishing the fun level.

Oh but... wait a minute.

I think I just found my mission statement...whoa! Why didn't I think of that before!

My mission is to have as much fun as I can in doing my job. Genius, eh?

I should go fill up that appraisal form now.

And just in case you're wondering what's with the durian intro and what does it have to do with the whole mission statement thing... well, I just want to prove a point that life has taught me that it's not that necessary to have a mission. Sometimes, when you just float and see where it goes you could end up in amazing places. You just gotta be open minded and able to enjoy every hiccups that might happen along the way.

That's what I always do anyway, do random things just for the sake of it.

But of course, don't take my words for it. Mission takes people to the moon and back. Mission brings us the movie Avatar.

I'm just saying that I'm not one of those people. Knowing that someone enjoys having a conversation with me is a great enough achievement for me.

So am I an underachiever?

How would I know? I don't measure myself. Life is too short and too beautiful to be worrying about standards.

Tomorrow's the first day of a long weekend, so live and let live!

me no academia

At lunch time today, I had a chat with someone with a very technical background.He asked me what are my methods in writing and I was like... my what?

He asked me what are my steps, how do I decide on an angle and how to formulate the words into a readable piece. I looked at him in total bewilderment and told him that I have no idea.

The truth is, I never consciously think. Ever.

And that is the truth.

I make a living by writing ads. It's a fun job, really. I'm given an advertising brief and I work on it, as simple as that. I like it because they let me wear shorts and sandals to work in the days that I don't have meetings and I get to meet lots of fun people. There might be some conscious thinking involved, but not much, because selling household stuff is no rocket science really.

I blog in my spare time. I have four blogs so far. One is to cater to my inner monster so there are some pretty gory stuff in there, one is to document the conversation I have with my imaginary friends, one is dedicated to my husband to document our adventure in culinary and travel, and the last one is this, my recent narcissistic blog that will feature only me, myself and I.

I write most of the time, but I never think about what to write. I just write whenever I feel like writing and I don't consciously attach any methods to it.

In fact, methods freak me out. Anything structured freaks me out. So much so that I bailed from Indonesia's finest university after only spending 3 weeks on campus and spent 3 years doing practically everything useless before my father decided that enough is enough and sent me to Perth, where I spent another 3 years lying on the grass at Nedlands Park imagining a parallel universe.

I did not bail out after 3 weeks because Australian universities are generally more laid back, you could be yourself and wore whatever and wrote about whatever in your papers provided you could back up your arguments, even if you back them up with the lamest and most messed up theories ever. A skill proven incredibly useful in my line of work now.

Until now, I still can't shake off my allergy in anything academia. I read strictly fiction so don't discuss The Tipping Point with me. I read lots of Japanese psycho thrillers and Brett Easton Ellis. I am fascinated by serial killers and stalkers and anything totally unnecessary.

So don't ask me to explain anything. I don't know how I get from point A to point B. I just do.

I guess the beauty of my life is that everything comes effortlessly. I can't be bothered with anything that requires conscious thinking. Don't be fooled with my appearance. Most people mistake me as an intelligent person because I dress shabbily and wear thick glasses, but it's only because I'm incurably unfashionable and can't be bothered with wearing contact lenses. And deep,meaningful questions freak me out. I am as shallow as anyone can be, and so far it's been good to be me.



Me, spacing out, not thinking.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

the hitler doll

I don't have a mirror in my bedroom. In fact, I don't even have a dressing table. I don't see the need of having it since I never brush my hair or put on any make up. When I was a teenager, I thought I would grow out of my tomboy phase and would take an interest in grooming myself. Well, my teenage years were thousands years ago and I still don't see the need to put on any make up for any occasion.

Except, of course, for my wedding.

I got away with a lot in my wedding. Everything was hassle free, just the way I like it. It was a small villa wedding in Bali so I was able to go barefoot and wore only a simple white summer dress. I wanted to go bare face as well but my husband, sweetly but firmly, told me that no self respecting bride, even in the most primitive tribe in the depth of amazon would go sans make up in their weddings.

Personally I couldn't care less about some bride in the amazon but I love my husband so I relented. Make up it is.

The make up artist insisted on putting on these fake eye lashes. They were very long and made my eyes itch. Since the first time I saw those fake lashes I knew they were a bad idea. But everyone insisted they would make me a look like a doll. What made everyone think I would like to look like a doll is beyond me. But again I thought, this is a happy occasion, and a pair of stupid fake lashes won't kill me. So bring 'em on!

Bad decision. I was blinking like mad throughout the whole ceremony. That was one of the reasons we haven't really edited the video although the wedding was two years ago. Ha!

Halfway through the party, I couldn't stand them anymore. So I plucked them off and pasted one above my upper lip like a fake mustache. I felt so much better, not to mention that I could channel Hitler much better than I could a pretty doll. Luckily my husband was already drunk at that time so he thought the whole thing was hilarious and took this picture. That's me with my Hitler mustache, in the white tube dress.



now is the best time to begin

From all the three blogs that I have, none of them are about myself. This is my first attempt on baring my life for all the virtual universe to see. What compelled me to do so? I'm not sure either. Maybe it's got a lot to do with me being more appreciative of life.

Maybe this is just me getting older.
Maybe this is a result of me making peace with myself.

Or maybe, it's because I've got my life figured out.

No, I am not rich nor successful. I am still a lowly staff at a big company at the age of 36. I have no achievement whatsoever to display.

But I love my life. I love myself. I love waking up in the morning.

And for someone who used to think about 13,005 possible ways to commit suicide, that is an achievement bigger than anything.

I guess the most remarkable thing about my life is that I am blessed to always be surrounded by people who are amazingly able to accept me just the way I am, even if who I am is subject to change from time to time depending on what got me inspired.

So yeah, this is my first posting about myself. And I like it so far.