Thursday, September 28, 2006

sebosen bosennya tupai melompat


Pagi ini gue bosen sekali. Kadang bingung juga ya seruangan sama bos, apalagi yang sering rapat. Kalau lagi rapat dan tidak ada hubungannya sama gue, gue merasa nggak perlu ada disitu dan nggak ngenakin kalau gue disitu. Jadilah gue harus wandering around. Which means gue nggak bisa kerja juga karena semua kerjaan gue kan ada di meja gue. Jadi mendingan gue ngeblog.


Ngapain ya enaknya kalo bosen di kantor?


Yang paling gampang adalah chatting. Lebih seru dikasih trik-trik nggak penting seperti pasang status yang menarik perhatian. Biasanya sih gue suka ngutip-ngutip dari teks lagu, seperti yang lagi sering gue pake, ‘you ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl’. Tanggapan biasanya datang beragam, mulai dari ‘wah duy, gue juga pernah tuh ada di posisi kaya begitu..’ oleh Yaya, dan juga ‘And I can't be holding on, to what you got, when all you got is hurt.. one love.. one blood’ by Kiki yang ternyata malah ikut-ikutan nyanyi.


Cara kedua biasanya adalah makan. Paling enak kalau bosen adalah beralasan untuk cari makan diluar kantor. Bukan makanan besar, kudapan aja. Kadang jalan ke Monami (bakery deket kantor gue, red.) untuk beli kopi kotakan capucino (apa capucini yah?) espresso dan beberapa kue kecil yang gak penting atau asem-aseman yang in the end diabisin sama mbak Susy. Eh ngomong-ngomong kripik Sanjay gue juga diabisin sama mbak Susy. Hmmm. Tapi plan ini lagi nggak bisa gue lakukan karena lagi puasa boooooo. Setiap hari harus menahan godaan bau-bau wangi kopi karena emang temen gue banyakan yang nggak puasa.


Browsing, browsing, blogwalking, blogwalking, blogwalking, blogwalking dan friendstering (in order, red.). Itu juga seru. Walau harus curi-curi juga karena tampilannya cukup obvious untuk membuktikan kalau gue tidak bekerja. Paling sering itu buka wikipedia, yahoogroups, googling pake keywords nggak penting seperti : ‘sapi’, ‘merajut’, ‘catwalk’, ‘muntah darah’, dan sebagainya. Bisa juga cari lyrics. Atau bikin blog seperti sekarang. Atau blogwalking. Kalau udah mentok banget gak bisa ngapa-ngapain lagi, barulah main friendster.


Keempat: ke kamar mandi. Cuma buat ngaca doang. Benerin rambut. Atau emang menunaikan kebutuhan biologis (kesannya apaan banget nggak nih? Hehe).


Ada yang mau nyumbang ide untuk menyelamatkan gue?

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

TV TV Cantik

Cobalah mampir ke televisi dan lihat majalah beberapa saat terakhir ini. Siapa yang lagi sering ada di tv dan menurut gue nggak terlalu penting? RATU.

Kemaren baca di Tempo, mereka abis manggung depan SBY, JK, Gus Dur dan Sutiyoso, dan berkasus pula secara nggak bisa menyebut nama mereka dengan baik dan benar. Well, se-opposan2nya gue, taulah gue nama panjang mereka. And I think they do should fully comprehend their audiences, regardless whom it would be.

Lalu mereka juga muncul di Honda Jazz, TV atau Kulkas something, Iklan layanan Masyarakat sama Polda something, sempet tour ke berapa puluh kota, iklan dove, soklin juga ya kalo gak salah? dan yang paling nyebelin adalah keluar di Extravaganza dengan catetan 'Saya nggak mau di make up jelek, saya nggak pede'. D'oh!

Berapa album mereka? Masih terhitung dengan sebelah jari. Berapa jumlah lagu mereka sendiri dalam album mereka itu? Lebih sedikit dibandingin gigi keponakan temen gue yang masih imut2. Berapa dari lagu mereka itu yang nggak ada peran atau nggak keliatan muka sang Suami yang konon kabarnya dimiliki oleh keduanya? Sama ama jumlah belanjaan gue di akhir bulan.

Tapi kenapa ya mereka bisa exist gtu?

Memang kah beauty is powerful? Or is it beauty is everything in media? Melihat fenomena kedua yaitu Dian Sastro yang dengan cueknya menggantikan bang Tantowi di WWTBM, mengingat adanya perbedaan jurang dan langit diantara keduanya, mungkin emang kedua accusation gue cukup relevan. Sehingga kadang berpikir, emang nggak cukup ya dengan kejadian Nadine yang bahasa Inggrisnya kalah sama anak SD kebanyakan dan itu dibuktikan di level internasional?

Hal ini menurut gue regardless marketing ya, karena kalau nggak ada demand tetep aja marketing akan susah untuk memuluskan jalan semuanya. Hhhhh, jadi cape yaa? dan jadi ingat dulu seorang teman -yang sama ama gue nggak se-dandy para artis itu- pernah bilang sama gue, 'Orang yang physically challenged (tidak secantik itu, red.) butuh kerja dua kali untuk membuktikan dirinya bisa dipercaya'.

You think so?

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

a pledge


We may appears outcasts to the world,
We perhaps beyond far to accomplish
Of a thoughtful and a dream to come true

To remain and to gain one in eternity
To share lives in rough and ready years
Depicted in every single of our pray

To the path and destiny that we have chosen
For whom we are and what we bare to believe
With all the price and hope we have to pay

As thousand years of ages arrives,
As we both shall agreed to be bond
For our lifetime pledge

In any faith of our good will
The most graceful things in our life time

More than heart and love to attach,
As the strength and the power to gain,
As believes that will keep us survives

It is God fully right to decide of which right or wrong,
None of mankind have right to criticize us

(taken from a very gracious ceremony from a dear friends,
be good you two ki and dy !!!)

Friday, September 08, 2006

Technorati Profile

duy the diva


(free trial here!)

kopaja, si toko serba ada

‘Wah saya pernah menghalangi orang mau bunuh diri waktu itu di Bis Kota, tapi kalo sekarang sih naik kendaraan umum apa aja beresiko yaa’, begitu ujar Tupi, seorang perempuan yang sudah malang melintang di dunia transportasi Jakarta selama 3 dekade. (udah mirip pos kota belum pembukaan gue?)

Sejak gue pindah ke Jakarta di bulan Juni 2004 yang lalu, kopaja resmi menjadi teman setia gue untuk kesana kemari. Apalagi waktu kualitas hidup menurun pas kerja di MTV. Hehehe. Sepanjang sejarah yang masih singkat itu, sering banget gue melihat copet berseliweran, bahkan HP gue sendiri pernah ilang karena mereka.

Walau in disguise, masih kebaca mana yang copet dan mana yang penumpang biasa. Their body languages scream it out loud. Ada yang sok-sokan bawa ransel, tapi isinya kosong. Kemeja juga pada tangan panjang semua. (Helloooo, udah out of date tau copet pake tangan panjang). Dan seringnya sih berbau badan tidak sedap. Jadilah ketebak.

Tapi yang terakhir kemarin sedikit berbeda. Gue tidak menduga bahwa mereka adalah copet. Badannya bagus-bagus (as in sedikit kaya ‘bapak-bapak’ dengan perut membuncit sewajarnya). Baunya wangi. Pake kemeja lengan pendek dan celana bahan yang I can tell itu bukan bahan murahan. Tapi ternyata, mereka copet. Mas didepan yang pake celana pendek yang jadi korbannya.

Ternyata intinya cuma satu, mereka bergerombol.

Sekarang kasusnya bukan hanya copet kalo di Kopaja atau Bis Kota atau semacamnya. Kemarin sempat ada –mungkin- maling yang tiba-tiba naik kopaja gue. Lalu nggak berapa lama ada mas-mas yang naik sambil teriak-teriak, ‘mau kabur kemana lo?’. Sementara itu si maling tampangnya udah ketakutan banget dan akhirnya ngikutin orang itu. God knows orang itu bakal diapain aja setelah dia ketangkep.

Ada juga peristiwa penangkap2an oleh Polisi Pamong Praja whatsoever yang terjadi disekitar kendaraan umum gue di perempatan Mampang. Gue pikir kenapa nih orang kok nangkepinnya brutal banget sih? Emang berapa yang dia colong? Berapa sih omset tukang copet dalam sehari dibandingin white collar crimes? Apakah hukumannya memang harus selalu dipukulin seperti itu? And guess what Ladies and Gentlemen, itu hanyalah penertiban pedagang asongan. Yang gue liat waktu itu ternyata tukang koran. Tapi gue yakin yang laennya juga kena. Kenapa sih musti brutal? Those cops aren’t any f***** better.

Kadang yang gini-gini emang ngebuat gue jiper buat naek Kopaja lagi. Tapi kalo suasana lagi enak. Ada tukang ngamen yang kebetulan nyanyinya lagi pas, atau anak kecil yang pas gue kasih beng-beng mukanya sumringah banget, atau kesian liat abang-abang jualan tissue, cotton buds, minuman, kacang telor, peniti, permen jahe, alat pijat, buku mewarnai, jepit rambut, tempat CD, penggaris serba bisa, puzzle, majalah bekas, permen asem, buku memandikan jenazah, tasbeh, gue jadi rindu lagi neh naek kopaja, si toko serba ada.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Beautiful Black

(Ceritanya kan ada lomba summer fun ' 06 something di Starbucks. Caranya adalah dengan ikutan nulis sekian ratus kata dengan tema 'Starbucks and me' dan disubmit lah lewat email. Being an-obsessed-to-be-writer-and-adore-any-competition-involved-writings-although-never-win kind of girl, menulislah gue sebuah cerita.

Ternyata, kemarin gue dipanggil ke Starbucks Sudirman Place untuk acara launching Signature Hot Chocolate dan juga pengumuman pemenang. Pas dateng ternyata nama gue ter-submit as 'duy', dan mbaknya bilang 'aduh, Duy ya? dicariin nih. kok kamu gak pake nama asli sih? sayang yaa. Nanti kita nggak bisa cocokin sama KTP dong. Soalnya, kita nggak boleh korespondensi sama peserta, jadi kita nggak bisa kontak kamu deh.'

Deg2an dong gue. Apalagi gue anaknya keGRan tuh, jadi berasa harusnya menang tapi nggak bisa gara-gara nggak pake nama asli.
Lalu besoknya gue ke kantor, dan gue buka tuh file gue, ternyata emang gue pake nama asli. Email gue doang masih duy duy duy. Huiks. Emang gak jodoh aja. Tapi lumayan banget sih, free flow drink dan pastries, 4 bungkus kopi buat dibawa pulang, dan 4 vouchers any tall beverage -dicolong Ijul 2 biji tapinyah-.
Anyway, karna kalah, gue post aja di blog gue!)



One of my first drinks is coffee. Even on my chubby little years, my meaningless mumbles seems want to protest any advertising uttering coffee as the best drink for children. I, currently, urged to fight for the babies’ right to choose their favorite drink. I am pro choice than pro milk. I might go to give free lectures for mommies to understand their kids genuinely. Of course Starbucks would be available during the lesson.

We lived at a housings way far from urban area. At the moment, you can easily count number of stores both exist and accessible for us to reach. My dad loves black coffee. I don’t know if he were sure of it or merely have no choice. But, seeing him drinking coffee at least twice a day had make me contagious of its unique taste.

Sometimes, watch him drinking, I wonders. Why this black liquid could taste so good? All things around me always yield that black or dark is bad and bitter. If you baked brownies and its get too dark then they said that it’s a failure. If you have black skin (in Indonesia only, I suppose), people would promote any crème to make it fairer. The pigeons represent peace and harmony is the white. The black one stays at zoo. Brides always use white. Meanwhile, black would be useful on funeral.

Yet, this liquid seems so strong and powerful. When my mommy meeting her friends they would have colorful drinks or tea, accompanied with crackers or cakes. And indeed the situation was light, cheery and full of laughter. As the opposites, the daddies would have this black drink as their partner to have more serious conversation. It usually done in the night, completed with the smoke of cigarettes and sometime with chess or television if it were on world cup nights.

So I ask myself again? Does this black thingy should have this creepy atmosphere? Since I, being a female, love to have coffee more than other colored drinks, I began to feel insecure and consider coffee as my guilty pleasure. I’m afraid of the look in people’s eyes if they see women drinking coffee. It seems as I just make terrible sins. But I couldn’t deny the desire also. Thus I always wish that I could have this sweet black liquid without losing my woman touch.

Being not that metro people person and prefer to live life casually and doesn’t really enjoy the night life, if I go out I would choose fast food with standard drink, or just hang out at friends and then did some quickie with instant coffee. If I have to stay up late for studying, then my dad’s black coffee still help me much. That’s my zenith with coffee before I start to work in Jakarta, the place where I first met the green lady with crown.

I remember of visiting Starbucks Thamrin for my beginning. I indeed felt kinda left out to see Starbucks visitors were mostly out of my league. But the urge to try the rumor myself of having the best coffee in the whole world killed the anxiety. I was ordering Hot Caramel Latte with glass, not because it was cheaper but because I thought fiber would be too hot to handle. I just know recently that it merely one of Starbucks efforts in being friendly with the environment. Please forgive my out of date mind.

Sipping my coffee, I was wondering around the room. This was the exact contrary of what I always feel of the black liquid named coffee. Yes indeed smokes from cigarettes are exists, but it didn’t feel creepy as my old pictures of the daddies gathering nearby my home. Women are here, there and everywhere. They have cheery laughter with their friends, boyfriends, or just alone with laptops and novels. The baristas are friendly and really guide a newbie like me in having the best composition of coffee. And indeed the coffee is the best.

Finally, I met the lovely black liquid coffee that could relieve my guilty pleasure and transform it into total delight. Observing the atmosphere, I feel my self at ease. It seems that this place is indeed buffering my hobby of reading and makes my novel more interesting. From being afraid of entering the location, until willing to stay there until late.

There is one lifetime partner that should not be separated from coffee, namely atmosphere. For this case, I should bestow all my thumbs up for Starbucks in making this atmosphere and coffee brewed together nicely. Already I go and journey and try and taste various coffees at numerous places of Starbucks. All of them are maintaining this soul mate of coffee and atmosphere by providing cozy cushion and music. Enough to enhance the coffee at its best and sufficient to make me struggle for a cup of Starbucks coffee.

Unfortunately, the wallet of mine didn’t work quite well on my early days in Jakarta. I must admit that I somehow could not afford of buying Starbucks. Sometimes I go there with one or two friends and only drink a cup of coffee just to meet the atmosphere and fulfilling our addiction by sharing drops of coffee. Doubly, once or twice I also skip one of my meals so that I could have a glass of Vanilla Late on my own. It was quite a day, but somehow if you already fall in love, you would do anything to have it.

I consider in seeing Starbucks as one of my self acknowledgement. For an ordinary girl with conservative thoughts like me, meeting Starbucks had somehow add another point of view in life that support my transformation into extraordinary. I might still prefer quiet place like the one in Setiabudi Building or Tebet due to its calmer surroundings which highly suitable if I need to finish my work or simply my Paulo Coelho, yet the hyper place like the Thamrin is as well going so fine with my have fun go mad mood on weekend. Still, any places of Starbucks indeed change my childhood notion that coffee is only for men and it should be drink at creepy places. Thank God now Starbucks is also brewed outside Jakarta, or else there would be several teenagers like me that would still find her acknowledgement.

Now I could sip my coffee with my friends or just with my brownies without being guilty. Well, sometimes I do feel guilty with my weight if I did order any Grande Espresso and sandwich (mostly pastries also). I just couldn’t resist the temptation. Anyway, although it’s black, now I could tell the world, that Starbucks is a Beautiful Black!

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

dance with my father

tis not the betrayal
tis not the unfaithfulness
simply
started with ignorance
then high frequent statement
up to unbearable hard headed
then you get tired
just tired
unconsciously exhausted
left only silence
unspoken thoughts
and definitely fears..

Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around ‘til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved

If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
How I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again

When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He’d make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me

If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
‘Cause I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again

Sometimes I’d listen outside her door
And I’d hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I’m praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don’t do it usually
But dear Lord she’s dying
To dance with my father again

Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream