Love, Deuce, and Butt Cramp

Blame it on the Wii Tennis. Since we got it about two years ago (gosh… has it really been that long?), my daughter Davi and I have been hooked ever since. We got really good and reached a ‘pro’ rank, that’s when Davi decided to take our ‘game’ outdoor. Being untrained properly, lack of knowledge on how to do the scoring, but yet her fondness of tennis kept growing, we decided to have Davi take a tennis lesson through the local Park and Recs program. We then took it to the next level, with her enrollment to Ames Tennis Academy. She’s been doing great since.

When I take her practice, I like to watch. I don’t drop her off then do errands. Though it’s a 90 minute practice, I enjoyed watching her every minute of it. I prefer to watch right on the court instead of through the glassy windows from the air-con waiting room. That way I could hear the sound of the hard-hitted ball being whacked by the racquet better. I could see better what Davi was doing, right or wrong. I could hear better the coaches’ suggestion to improve her technique. I also loved ’listening’ to her during practice, some stuff she’d like to say to herself like “Oh come on!” when she missed returning a ball or just a simple and quiet “Ugh” when she hit really hard.

I got into it so much, I sometimes feel intensed when she couldn’t hit a ball, or couldn’t serve right. I honestly thought she could do better. Well, it looked easy enough. That’s why I wanted to learn to play tennis. Plus, it’d be fun to be able to play tennis properly with my daughter. I’d like to be able to rally with her, instead of just a hit and miss -I serve, it’s out; she serves, I couldn’t return.

I enrolled to park and Recs program and it was done all night for 10 days, Monday through Thursday, started at 6:30 pm for an hour, outdoor. The weather’s been very hot and humid lately, and as much as I dreaded to go to practice after a long day at work, I managed to just miss a day -when Davi was sick and hubby had to go to an after hour meeting. Although at first I didn’t want to go, I ended up having a good time despite the bodyache, sore shoulders, and thighs cramp.

I owe Davi an apology. For all those time I groaned when she missed hitting a ball, I couldn’t do it any better. There’s something funky about this hand-eye coordination business, because I suck! I could see the ball, knew where it’s going, I placed my racquet at the right place and time (or so I thought), but when I swung my racquet, I did not hit the ball. It went straight through my racquet as though there’s a hole in it.

On the very first day of practice, there were 7 of us. Couple of days later, there’s another guy joined. We were asked why we took this lesson, what’s our goal after it’s done. I honestly told them that I just wanted to be able to play tennis with my daughter and to understand more about this sport. I wasn’t hoping to be a technically-advanced player or to be an athlete. Just to be able to play, is all.

To my surprise, I wasn’t horrible at all. One of the coaches, who’s also my daughter’s coach, said, “Now I know where Davi got her talent from.” He said that even though my technique wasn’t perfect, I did have a good posture and basics. Among the seven, I was right in the middle ability-wise. There were two younger girls who played tennis at high school and college, and one guy who took private tennis lesson at the academy where my daughter is. There’s this one Vietnamese guy, whose name is Lam, “It’s spelled el-ey-em. LAM. Not el-ey-em-be, LAMB. No em, I’m not going to baaa.” I actually called him ‘Engergizer Bunny’ or ‘Mr. Stretchypants’ because of two things: he has tons of energy, always hyper and talks a lot while goofily plays tennis; and he always HAS to stretch for a certain length of time. I mean, the others do the ‘warming up’ but Lam does ‘the stretch’ very seriously.

Growing up in Indonesia, a badminton-lover country, I had a difficult time adjusting to tennis. In badminton, which I played a little bit, we take turns in serving; while in tennis you serve the whole time in one game. Although both badminton and tennis recognize forehand and backhand, I got mixed up in the way we hit the ball. In badminton, you hit the ball mid air; while in tennis, you wait after one bounce. That’s how I got mixed up sometimes. When I saw my opponent return the ball kind of high, instead of stepping back and let it bounce once, I hit it mid air and ended up hitting it too hard, thus out of line.

My favorite routine was ‘volley’; where you get close to the net and try to return the ball just by ‘a touch’. Kind of like ‘netting’ in badminton. My least favorite one? To serve. I know it’s crucial, but I just detest it. It’s not easy to try to hit the ball from behind the service line, diagonally across the net, in the service box.

Now, the hardest part for me is trying to keep up with the scoring system, especially when we played double. The moving of left and right, behind the line or further in, was a bit too much for my brain. Added to it was the concept of love, 15, 30, 40 and deuce. OMG… whoever invented deuce, must’ve smoked weed at that time.

But I did have fun. Regardless how many times I feel like I was going to have a cardiac arrest, suffering from butt cramps, neck strain, or pulled muscles… I’m still glad I did it.

Now where’s my Wii remote… I mean my racquet… off to the court. Love, Deuce, ouch… butt cramp!

Not Everything is Good at Tutto Bene Restaurant in Ames

Tutto bene means ‘everything is good’ in Italian. Apparently, it’s also a well known name for restaurants, according to Google. Unfortunately, not everything is good with the Tutto Bene retaurant in our little town of Ames, Iowa.

Opened almost a month ago, the owner’s brother owns a Mexican restaurant, Cazador, which is pretty popular in Ames. Since Cazador is very close to my office, we go there for lunch quite often and was very surprised when we’re told that they’re opening an Italian restaurant. Although Mexican and Italian cuisine both use tomatoes as main ingredient a lot, they’re not quite the same. Mexican food uses tomatoes for the condiments, mostly. While Italian food uses tomatoes mostly as sauces. I did have some hesitation towards the Mexican-owned new Italian restaurant.

So the four of us went to try it out one day for supper. I’ve not been a big fan of Italian cuisine due to my disliking to tomato-based food (except for pizza). But in spite of our family eagerness to be open to try anything new -food especially- plus my daughter is a big fan of pizza and spaghetti while my son’s loving lasagna.

The location is not new to us. It’s located at the former building of Mexican restaurant O’Malley and McGees. Interior-wise there was not a big change; including the seating arrangement. The lighting was not too bright nor too dark. Rather formal table setting with table cloth, tall big wine glass, and real silverware. We were seated rather quickly by a well mannered Mexican waitress. “Alright, this is going to be good,” we thought.

Time to order the food. Hubby chose the antipasto platters for the appetizer, which he claimed as ’surprised’ to see it on the menu. ‘Surprised’ in a good way; more like ‘impressed’. Antipasto is the right Italian way to start a meal, and it cost $8. I ordered a chicken marsala (it’s ‘pollo marsala’ on the menu) for myself, while hubby ordered some kind of pasta dish. For the kids, we got them spaghetti with meatballs and lasagna.

 

The food was horrible. Started with the antipasto; the cured shrimp tasted old like ‘meat gone bad’ kind of taste while the marinated vegetables tasted weird. My chicken marsala was disappointing because the chicken felt like like rubber; like it was a frozen chicen breast and nuked in the microwave.  They served it with green and red bell peppers, which was the first time for me to see. Hubby’s pasta and Davi’s spaghetti were over cooked, while the meatballs were very chewy and tasted horrible. We were hoping that the lasagna would be better, but it was less than warm and hard to chew. The only thing we could eat was the bread.

Since we couldn’t finish the food and the kids were still hungry, we opted to leave to go elsewhere for dinner. “Would you like a box to take your food home?” the waitress asked. “NO!” hubby and I answered in unison. “No, thank you,” I smiled politely.

On our way home, we turned in to McDonald’s drive thru. Nothing is more reliable than the good ol’ artery clogging Big Mac!

Me? Awesome? Oh Stop It!

Despite the fact that I would never, ever, declare myself as ‘awesome’, I’m thankful that some people think I am. My kids, especially, and I know that’s not a lie or just to kiss ass. Kids aren’t capable to lie at that young age, they are brutally honest. My 8 year old daughter once told me that my outfit to go to work was ‘not appropriate’ and ‘they do not go together’. I was wearing my colorful Indonesian tunic over a beige capri with sandals. When I asked her, “What is appropriate for me, then?”, she replied, “Long pants, a jacket, and pair of shoes.” After I explained to her that with warmer weather like right now it would be too warm for me, she went, “Well, I suppose…” and rolled her eyes.

Back to being awesome. As much as I value and treasure my kids’ opinion, some reassurance from other adults was more confirming. Santi told me that there’s a present for me waiting in her blog, so I went to check it out. Apparently, she was tagged by another blogger to write a post on why she thinks she’s awesome. Then to pass the award to seven other bloggers who she’d think is also awesome. Oooh… awkward! Not only I don’t know how to brag about myself, but I also don’t know any bloggers (let alone seven!) I’ve met in person to know that they’re awesome or not. But judging from their writings and thoughts, I think they are. But thanks a bunch, San, for rewarding me as ‘the groundbreaker’. I was puzzled at first, not knowing what’s that really mean. So I looked it up, and groundbreaker means something like “One that is original or innovative“. Aww, stop it!

Now the homework. Why am I awesome? Well, among other things:

• My daughter thinks I’m awesome because I came from Indonesia, moved to this country all by myself; far away from my Mother and siblings (and best friends).
• My son thinks I’m awesome because I make killer Indomie goreng (Indonesian instand fried noodle).
• They both think I’m awesome because I like to go on field trips with them, engaged in class activities and whatnot.
• My husband thinks I’m awesome because I restock his toiletteries without him asking, making sure that there’s a 12-pack Coke Zero all the time, and his work clothes are clean and ready to wear.
• My coworkers think I’m awesome because I’m a hard worker, always on top of everything, and easy to work with. They’re also amazed to the fact that I was able to answer their question son how to spell some English words (uh, hello… not my native language… you’re the one who’s born and raised and speak the language?) correctly; mostly second graders words.
• The doctors think I’m awesome because this is my first job ever in the US and I’m going strong on my fifth year. Not only English is not my native language, but I don’t have any experience working in a health industry or clinic settings. The five doctors (used to be six) seemed impressed with my hard work, dedication, and how fast I learned things and being very good at it.
• I, myself, think I’m awesome because the kids had grown up to be kind hearted, open minded, culturally educated, and quite smart children. My daughter doesn’t dress like a skank, she values friendship and best friended an adorable girl who has cerebral palsy. My daughter is inquisitive and a divergent thinker, even though she’s only eight. My son hasn’t shown lots of good potential yet, but he sure has keen sense of humor, and so so sweet.

Now, who should I pass this on to? Is it limited to bloggers only? What if the person is already tagged and rewarded? Well I guess that would mean he or she is double awesome!

After further consideration, I’d pass the ‘Trophy of Awesomeness’ to: my old friend and former coworker Ukirsari, for her talent in writing and photography (and an avid backpacker) for sure. Then my brother Putra, the former scholar whose very passionate about fashion; who claimed he felt his life had changed when he entered college. I must admit that’s true, he’s been more awesome after college (love ya’ bro!). Melly, the Hablay Corner owner; for her style of writing in Bahasa Indonesia. So easy to understand (not njelimet at all) and beautiful. She’d turn such an easy object or nggak penting into something really worth reading for. My fellow blogger and mother of two, Juinita, who is -in my opinion- awesomely able to manage her life as a successful career woman and a wonderful mother. The awesome Santi herself, who tagged me. Anybody who could speak other language(s) other than their native language, is awesome to me. Last but not least, Ibu Profesor aka Merlyna in AZ. She’s probably already been tagged by someone else. Who cares… I think she’s awesome. A smart Indonesian woman who teaches college kids in the US? Totally cool. Not a stuck up and draws plus sings beautifully? Most cool!

International Food Fair with a Culture Clash

The four of us went to VEISHEA’s Cultural Festival and International Food Fair last week. It’s a good way to taste the globe in one day, without actually traveling. The admission was $3 per person or $8 per family plus 50 cents per food ticket. Most of the entree cost 4-5 tickets, while an appetizer  or dessert is about 3, and the drink is 2. Hosted at the South Ballroom of  Memorial Union, visitors need to pay the admission fee at the door. The food tickets were sold both outside and inside, and we purchased $20 worth of tickets. 

Countries representated were Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, India, Japan, Brazil-Portuguese, Nepal, Chinese, Puerto Rico, Latin American, Egypt, Other African, Sri Lanka, Russia, and Argentina-Uruguay-Chile. Each country had a ‘booth’ and at least two items to sell. It’s a buffet style, so we got the food fairly quickly. The eating area’s big and nice, with a huge screen to display various video clips from each countries.

Even though the claim was to “Experienced food from around the world excellently prepared by International Student Council”, I knew better not to put our hopes high. Even though our little town has a lot of international restaurants with good food, doesn’t mean the international students could cook as good.

And I was right, unfortunately, starting off with Indonesia. Being an Indonesian myself, I was disappointed to find out that their only two dishes are not ‘presentable’. Their chiken rendang very soupy, almost like a lontong sayur, I thought it supposed to be like this. While their macaroni schotel was very dry and too salty. On the hand out flyers, the macaroni schotel cost  4 tickets, but one of the Indonesian girls told us it cost 8 tickets! Hubby told her, “I’m sorry but the flyer said it only cost 4 tickets.” The girl said while laughing weakly, “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Hubby looked at me with eyebrows raised and I gave him the same ‘lool’. As we were walking away, he asked me, “What’s up with that? The Indonesian girl tried to rip me off?” I said, “She better not. Maybe she got the wrong info or something.”

Our favorites was the Koshary, an Egyptian dish which is a mix of pasta, rice, lentil, chick peas, onion, garlic, and some chili sauce. This may sound horrible, but it was delicious. My son Dante was eating it like crazy, he went for second, even. Indian’s tandoori chicken was always good, a bit too spicy but not bad. Like the Argentinian empanadas, unhappy with the Chinese hot pot. Satisfied with the Egyptian hibiscus tea and Puerto Rican fruit punch, astounded by Indian’s Rooh afza or rose syrup. Delighted by Russian torta de bolacha, intrigued by Brazilian pastel de forno.

As we were getting full, I saw somebody had a plate of something which looked very familiar to me. “Hey… it’s klepon!” I shrieked. My daughter looked at me, “It’s a what pound?” I grabbed her hand and said, “No, no. Not what pound. Klepon. It’s an Indonesian dessert. Funny, I didn’t see that at the Indonesian booth.”

So we walked around to find where this is sold. Amazingly, it was at the Malaysian Student Association’s booth. Except, they called it Onde Onde, although it looks as green as Indonesian klepon, also with dried coconut shred on it. How bizarre. Davi was in line and a guy asked her, “What would you like to get?” Davi pointed at the klepon (or Onde Onde, I should say, because it’s their version). The other guy then said, “Oh, the Onde Onde! Good for you. It’s truly Malaysian.”

[Click on the picture to get a better view]

’scuse me? Truly Malaysian? Not entirely true. Because that is also our (Indonesian)  klepon. And I will be adamant about my klepon. Don’t be ignorant. Just like they’re claiming that Rasa Sayange folk song, the island of Bintan, wayang, and angklung is theirs. OK, maybe this klepon vs onde onde thing is not as harsh as the previous clash. And maybe they’re just ignorant students who don’t have a clue that their neighboring country has something similar. I sure hope this is the case. Because I’m getting tired of Malaysia’s claiming everything that is not necessarily our, but we have it too, as their only.

Geez!

May She Rots In Hell

We don’t know why a mother would kill another mother’s child. -Sgt. Tony Sheneman, Tracy Police Department (West California), on Melissa Huckaby’s killing an 8 year old girl.

Not only she killed the 8 year old Sandra Cantu after kidnapping her, but also rape the girl with a foreign object and lewd or lascivious act with her. After done killing the little girl, she put Sandra in a suitcase and dumped it in a pond. Melissa Huckaby (28) is a Sunday school teacher at her grandfather’s church where he’s a priest at. According to KTLA News, authorities believe Sandra was killed in the church next to the trailer park where both the Huckaby and the girl’s family live.

I’m flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. Stupefied. Thunderstrucked.

How could you do that to a little girl? To take someone’s life is mind boggling, but to take it out of a small child who’s only eight year old and couldn’t fight back? What a coward, psycho, low life individual. Sandra probably just learned how to spell ‘t-e-c-h-n-o-l-o-g-y’. Or she just learned how to do a two-digit addition. How could you do such horrible things to a young human being who probably did not know how to hate yet?

And the fact that the killer is a Sunday school teacher, daughter of a priest and a mother herself? How could she do such an evil thing while she’s brought up full of religious values? How would she be able of caring and loving her own child but terminate her child’s playmate?

My daughter is the same age as Sandra. She’s also a second grader. She also has brown hair. It’s probably why I got emotional reading this news. But on her public memorial service, a lot of people cried. Even big, beefy guys in biker’s outfit. Somebody said, “We were praying everyday, and everyone thought that Sandra would come home OK.”

Maybe God was too busy to save Sandra’s life. Maybe God’s not there. Maybe there’s no God.

I know I don’t have the patience of an angel, I yelled at my daughter when I got impatient. I spanked here when she was smaller. But to torture and then kill? I will never understand the reason why this demonic woman slayed Sandra.

If she’s proven guilty, I hope she’d get tortured in prison. I hope she’d rot in a place she’d call HELL.

“I Love You, Man” to You, Sis!

Sis,

Have you seen the movie ‘I Love You, Man’? It’s starred by the funny Paul Rudd, who’s also in ‘The 40 Year Old Virgin’ and ‘Knocked Up’. The movie is about Peter Klaven (played by Rudd) who’s getting married soon, but realized that he doesn’t have a good enough friend to be hailed as the best man. This character went on a series of ‘man date’ to meet friends, hoping to find a best friend. Soon he realized that a dinner in a fancy restaurant, a game of backgammon, nor going to a ball game; are not enough to find a best friend. Peter was best friendless.

And so am I. Since we bid goodbye when I left Indonesia in May of 2000, I am still best friendless. I do have friends here (mostly from work) that I hang out with every now and then. But I can’t really categorize them as ‘best friends’. I also have some acquaintances from kids’ school and our neighbors. But I can’t categorize them as ‘friends’. It’s not that I’m antisocial, but after the initial interaction and I don’t feel comfortable around the person, I wouldn’t care to pursue the ‘friendship’.

While Peter in the movie was actively searching for a best friend, which he hope in turn would be his best man at the wedding, I’m more passive. I don’t have a deadline, so what’s the hurry? I don’t want to come across that I don’t need a best friend, but I just think it will come to me eventually. If I meant to have a best friend, I’d like it to be like you at the least, Sis.

None of us was looking for each other. I was a journalist, and you were this hot new TV star/model and I was assigned to interview you. Who would’ve known that we could ‘connect’ and talked like we’ve been friends forever. We exchanged phone numbers and the rest was history. After the article was published, you called me on my cell to tell me that you liked my writing and loved the picture (well, you should… because it was a collection of Adji Notonegoro’s haute couture) and to invite me for a lunch. Then we had dinner, then we went clubbing -among the phone calls-, then stayed over, then movies, and much more.

Few days ago, when I was folding laundry on my boring best friendless life, I was listening to Pandora with my iPhone. Your favorite song came through, I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor:

At first I was afraid, I was petrified…
“WAAAA!!! SIS, IT’S MY SONG!!” You always went berserk whenever this song is played -in a mall, radio in your car, a club, or even on TV.

Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side…
“I KNOW!!!” I replied, as euphoric as you were.

But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong…
“OMIGOSH, OMIGOSH, OMIGOSH!!” Your two feet started to do that running-in-place thing and your hands were fanning your face.

And I grew strong and I learned how to get along…
By this time, we both were shamelessly singing our heart to the song.

The rest of the song was listened to with teary eyes (though I was still able to fold the laundry).

I can’t help but reminiscing us. Even though you’re an ’actress’, you’ve always been a down-to-earth kind of girl. Kind, always give and rarely ask, and always helpful. You don’t think yourself as an ‘actress’. “Ah, I’m not that big,” you gushed. Well, if my face is on all over of magazine covers on inside, or being a host of a TV show, had TV series, and people recognize me and calling out my name, I’d consider myself a big thing. But you don’t mind coming down to our dinky little office just to wait for me writing up an article before we go out. You’d bring in some snacks for everybody in my office (and not to forget the cigarettes).

You’re not spoiled although you’ve stayed at 5-star hotels, you slept fine in my crampy, no air-con and no windows, rented room. You’re not a brat even though you’re not a stranger to super fine restaurants, you said your favorite food was the street food and yes, I’ve seen you pigging out at Roti Bakar Edi, young lady!

Some critics said that ‘I Love You, Man’ has a lot of awkward moments (such as when Sydney Fife’s character was doing the toast on Peter and Zooey’s engagement party). We have our share on awkwardness too. Remember that night when we and two other girl friends were club hopping and we’re doing ‘Truth or Dare’ thing in your car? The four of us were intoxicated and some of the ‘Dare’ answers were really shocking. There was a silent moment after somebody said something, then after five seconds, we all blurted out laughing.

I really miss you, Sis. I was able to talk to you a couple of times using your old cell phone number. But after you got married, you were gone. Couldn’t track you anymore. I bet you changed your cell phone number, and my emails were never replied. I Googled your name, it came back with your wedding news. I guess I’m not very good at spying or tracking somebody, I couldn’t find you; not even in Facebook!

So, wherever you are Mila Karmelia, please remember that I still have you listed as my only best friend and that will not to be expired any time at all. Even though my soul was removed to make room for sarcasm, you’ll always have your little spot. And please, anybody who would know her whereabout or her husband, Krisna Murti Wibowo, do let me know.

Age Denial?

This hottie tagged me on Facebook to share stories about ‘age’. She hilariously wrote (in Bahasa Indonesia) how she always feels like a 21 year old, and always tell people that she is twenty-one. If a close friend was nearby and gave her the dirty look about claiming twenty-one, she would correct it to 24. Still not her real age, I don’t think. Nobody knows how old she really is, but it doesn’t matter. I know her only from her blog, but I truly think she’s awesome. Not only she has the good look, but also very talented. That’s why I think she can get away with this.

While jokingly she admitted that she’s living in denial, she did ask if there’s any ‘mature’ person who’d feel the same. If by that, she meant to ask: is there any 30++ year old people who feel young at heart and act like one, my answer would be ‘a lot’. But I don’t know how many of those ‘a lot’ who would ‘lie’ (jokingly or not) about their age. 

Mine is totally the opposite. I’ve always told people my real age, never once hesitated. I enjoyed seeing their eyes gotten bigger exclaimed, “BUT YOU DON’T LOOK 35!” Liking the next comment even more, “Are you sure you’re not 25?” I am not exactly sure what makes people say that. But since appearance is the first thing you’d see, I’m guessing it’s my look? I don’t wear heavy make ups or ’pimp’ my hair. No lipsticks, just lip balm during the winter season. No eye shadows, only eyeliner. My hair is long sand straight, I don’t make it ‘poofy’; only occasionally when I feel like doing something ‘different’, I’d curl the tip of my hair a little bit.

One of my coworkers said one day that the reason why I look young(er) was because I’m Asian. I asked her if she was serious, and cluelessly she said that she was, but not anymore after that question. “I just think if you start wearing [heavy] make ups since middle school, whether you’re white, black or Asian, you’d look older than your actual age.”

My other guess why people would not believe me when I tell them that I’m in my mid 30s, probably because I’m a goofball. ‘Dork’ is my nickname -lovingly given by hubby and now the nurses and doctors at work are also calling me that, great- and I don’t hesitate being silly around my kids’ and their friends.

I do feel young at heart. I really think that people who are able to laugh a lot, who takes life not too seriously and not afraid to look silly; are the coolest people on Earth. Not necessarily going around telling people that your age is ten years younger than the actual one. But since nobody gets hurt, I don’t think it’s a crime. 

“It’s not denial. I’m just very selective about the reality I accept.” -Calvin (6), from Calvin and Hobbes.

Pic’s from here.

Congrats on Your Achievement. Now Let Us Embarass You.

When somebody is being recognized for her or his achievement, wouldn’t you think this person is going to be quite proud of it? Especially when an event was held in honor of this person so everybody could witness or share their proud moment; wouldn’t you think they would appreciate it if everybody’s in the ‘game’ and be nice about it?

To my surprise (or lack of cultural awareness?), people here like to ’smash’ the proud moment by ‘grilling’ the person. At first I thought it was a coincidence, because the people in our department are like that. A nurse -let’s call her Jill- was awarded with a special recognizition (a pin with a gemstone) for her 30 years of dedication working for the clinic. During the department’s meeting, my supervisor gave a nice long speech about her. After the pin was given (along with a formal letter), somebody said, “Alright, it’s now time to grill her.”

Three different person took turns in telling embarassing stories that happenned to Jill or she did unknowingly. Jill is a sweet person who, sometimes, say something that’s written out loud without thinking or censoring it. And she’s always on a fast mode. So one day, after zooming in and out rooming patients, she called out a patient by the reason why the patient was seen, instead of their names. Good thing it was for a sore throat. Couldn’t imagine what’d happen if it was for  STD check.

Still about Jill, the other nurse told a story where Jill had to return a phone call from a nursing home. I remembered that I was the one who talked to them originally, the nurse from the nursing home was so nasty and demanding. So on my note, I wrote ‘Pissy RN’ as the caller. Not knowing that Jill would be the one who’s going to call them back. Certainly not knowing that Jill would say, “Hi, my name is Jill with Dr Smith’s office returning Pissy RN’s call.” I was told that the rest of nurses at the back hall station were wowed by that and Jill had to frantically come up with an excuse when the ‘Pissy RN’ replied, “Excuse me?”

By the third story, I could see that Jill’s face was as red as a chilli pepper. She was covering her face while saying, “Oh my god…” so many times while the rest of us were laughing so hard. I felt guilty laughing at her, so I stopped; but no body else in the room felt like I did. It’s almost like a euphoria.

A month later, in a different occassion. Hubby’s department was throwing a semi-retirement party for one of his employees who’s been working for hubby longer than I’ve been married to him. Semi-retirement was emphasized because this neat lady, let’s say Eileen, retired from a full time job working under hubby’s department and got a part time job at a different department. Eileen loves to travel and was almost like a mother to hubby. She was a very loyal employee.

In this semi-official party that was set up in a nice restaurant setting, again the word ‘grilling’ was mentioned. Some employees at first asked hubby, as the head of the department, to give toast and speech. Hubby hated the idea because he hates being in the spotlight. But he told them he’d be willing to partake in the ‘grilling’. Hubby delegated the toast and speech part to somebody else later on. The ‘grilling’ part was never heard of for the rest of the night.

So what’s the purpose of the ‘grilling’ tradition? Is it just to make the event more fun and less official? Or could it be to ‘remind’ the celebrated person not to get too snotty with their achievement and to stay humble by reminding them about some embarassing moments in the past? What would you do if you’re the celebrated person? Would you keep your cool and not overreacted or get too embarassed? I probably would, but again, it depends on how much alcohol I’d consumed by the time they’re starting to grill me.

Drama of the Year 2008 (Vacation Gone Wild) – Part 4 b (Final)

There’s a force from underneath the dam that’s pulling me. I felt like jumping.

That’s what the Hoover Dam did to me. Was it acrophobia, the fear of height? Not quite. According to a physician I work for, I was dealing with angst; a German word for fear or anxiety, used in English to describe an intense feeling of strive. Angst normally means a nondirectional emotion. While acrophobia is an extreme or irrational fear of heights.

Done with Hoover Dam, we continued driving on the US Route 93. After about an hour, my ‘bottomless-stomach’ 6 years old son started to complain of being hungry. We saw a jerky store on the side of the road, it’s called freshjerky[dot]com. I thought, if they dare selling online, they must be pretty good, right? We went in and sampled some of their dried meat and fruit. Some of them sounded pretty nasty -ever heard of tuna jerky?- but after we tried it, it was actually edible and quite tasty. My favorite was the teriyaki beef and the dried mango.

Then the road trip continued to reach Williams, AZ. This town was picked as our base camp because it will only take us about half an hour to drive to the entrance of the Grand Canyon. We were debating whether or not to just drive to the South Rim area of the Canyon, which has accommodations too, so we don’t have to drive too far. But they were too pricey for our budget which was already depleted after losing thousand something dollars after the failed SE Asia trip plan (read the previous parts of this post). This small town lies on Route 66, and I haven’t been to any before. I watched the movie ‘Cars’ with the kids and since then always wanted to visit small towns on Route 66.

We booked a room at The Downtowner Motel. Everytime I heard the word ‘motel’, I can’t help but thinking of squeaky beds, smelly carpet, and loud heater/air-con. To my surprise, this one is completely presentable. We got the two bedrooms, one of each with very comfortable queen beds and flat screen TV on the wall. I thought it was going to have either a ‘mountain cabin’ decoration or tacky Route 66 memorabilia. It was not. Instead, the tastefully decorated cabin reminded me of a hip, urban-taste apartment of a big city. Normal motel would have one big undivided area of bedroom, living room, and a small kitchen/eating area altogether; this one was, again, has a big city apartment feeling to it; without a kitchen.

Done checking in, we went out to explore the town on foot in a 40-something degrees temperature. I was freezing my ass off. Hubby and the kids were fine, because they’re Iowans. Decided to go in a bar to warm up, met a very nice fellow who taught my 7 year old daughter, Davi, how to smooth her shuffleboard skill. This guy is everything you’d picture of a prospector. Very very nice. Drunk as heck, but nice. While Davi and I were in a shuffleboard match, Dante took Daddy up for a very intense game of cards: Go Fish.

Where to go for dinner, we wondered. The common American dine-in or hello… is that a Thai restaurant I see? We thought, in the spirit of Thailand, we should try the Thai restaurant, Dara Thai’s Cafe. When we entered the place, we found out that we’re the only customers. An alarm went off at the back of my brain, saying, “Bad choice. Don’t go here.” Of course, I ignored it. Made a small talk to the owner about how surprised I was to find a Thai restaurant in a place like this -small town, on Route 66, out of nowhere. Then she said that they were new, just a couple of months, and that they’re a chainThai restaurant. That alarm on my brain buzzed off again. All chain restaurants are mostly so-so, if not bad. Some people are fond of chain -international- restaurants, like Carlos O’ Kelly’s or Panda Express, or PF Chang. We are not. Our family prefers to go to a smaller but more authentic ones, even though it’s considered as a ‘dive restaurants’ to most Westerners. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) I was right. The food was not very good, it was blah. After paying, we went for more walk, stopped at a gift/souvenir store with a scary robotic Santa by the front door.

The next morning, we woke up early and had a hearty American breakfast at the diner. Packed all the necessities to stay warm (hats, mittens, etc), filled up the gas tank, fully charged batteries for camera and video camera were ready to go, full tummy… we’re off to see one of World Heritage Sites! Being the ‘Gateway to the Grand Canyon’, Williams is conveniently located, it only took us 30 min to reach the Grand Canyon entrance.

We visited Grand Canyon’s South Rim instead of North, because it’s ‘friendlier’ to us. The North Rim, which I’m pretty sure has more stunning views, is more remote and only open in mid-May through mid-October. For a first timer like us, experiencing the Grand Canyon from the South Rim (also known as Grand Canyon Village) is not bad at all. It ismore touristy, because they have more lodgings (El Tovar Hotel is amazing!), shops, and easier accessibilities. Planning a visit? Do some research here first. Interested in doing the mule ride? Better be in shape since the shortest one takes about 7 hours!

There’s no words to describe how amazing this place is. The way nature just ‘carved’ this georgous place. How the force of water cut deeply through the rock, forming numerous steep-walled canyons. And to think how difficult that time was for the pioneers to explore this wilderness, and survived. I was glad to be able to see this place, and for my kids to experience it too.

With this spirit, we drove back to Vegas feeling better that this family vacation was not a big disappointment after all. So what if we couldn’t go to Chiang Mai, Thailand, and visit the Elephant Nature Park. To be able to go to Los Angeles, roaming the Hollywood Boulevard, watching shows in Las Vegas, and to see one of the world’s wonders Grand Canyon, was not a bad experience at all. So what if we couldn’t be in a 80 degrees weather while sunning at the beach wearing shorts and sandals. To be in a 30 degrees weather, bundled from head to toe with chattering teeth, I guess it’s okay too. All I wanted to do was to be home again.

So there we were, in Vegas again. Last minute reservation to the Desert Rose Resort (I highly recommend this place. Very very nice and close to the Strip) was made via cell phone on our way from Williams, AZ. They had one 2-bedroom suite available, thankfully. I went to bed hoping that tomorrow we’d be able to fly back home with no problems.

Unfortunately, the goddess of drama was not going to let go of us easily. Started with the ‘fine’ of $150 from the rental car place because we didn’t fill the tank up (it was 3/4 full). Then when we checked in at the airline’s desk at McCarran International airport, they told us that hubby was not listed to fly with us! What?! Evidenty, due to shuffling things around, the online booking rep did not book hubby with us. She booked him on a different flight! I couldn’t emphasize more clearly how frustrating that situation was for us. I was about to loose it, because the departure time for the three of us was approaching, but we dind’t have an answer for hubby yet. After a while, somebody with a higher rank stepped in and took care of us. Not only he was able to get hubby in the same flight with us with the same price, we were also able to seat close together. Phew!

This whole ‘drama’ does affect our decission-making capability when it comes to travel internationally. Because it seemed that no matter how we try to make alternative options, they ended up being a bite on the butt. I understand that the military coup in Bangkok was out of our hands, as well as hubby’s sickness. I just can’t help but feeling that we probably should stay put in the US for a while. But we all did have fun, because it’s not the destination or where you are, but who you’re with; and I’m still glad that I share this adventure with hubby and the kids.

Chain Questionnaire

This is a post about an old tag that I just realized I have not done it after a long time. Shame on me, I know. I’m sorry, Ecky. I don’t know who to tag anymore since everybody ’s already been tagged! But like a debt, you must pay it. Better be late than nothing.

001. Real name: Dinyfitha
002. Like it: Yes
003. Nickname(s): Diny, Dinsky, Dintje, D, or Dork
004. Status: Married
005. Zodiac sign: Gemini
006. Male or female: Female
007. Elementary school: SDN 08 Jati Pulo, Jakarta
008. Middle school: SMPN 88 Slipi, Jakarta
009. High school: SMAN 1 Budi Utomo, Jakarta
010. Hair color: Black
011. Long or short: Long
012. Eye color: Dark brown
013. Weight: 124 lbs
014. Height: 5′ 5″
015. Righty or Lefty: Righty
016. Sweats or Jeans: [Old] Jeans
017. Phone or camera: Daily basis? Phone. Traveling? Camera.
018. Health freak: No *as I’m snacking on Cheetos*
019. Piercings: Ears
020. Do you have a crush on someone: No
021. Eat or drink: Eat
022. Purse or Backpack: Purse (daily), backpack (travel)
023. Tattoes: No (too whimpy)
024. Do you like yourself? Yes
025. Current worry: Daughter’s slumber party tonight

THIS OR THAT
026. Orange or apple juice: OJ
027. Night or day: Both
028. Sun or moon: Both
029. TV or Internet: Both
030. Playstation or Xbox: Neither. I’d prefer Wii.
031. Kiss or hugs: Hugs
032.  Iguana or turtle: Turtle
033. Spider or bee: Spider
034. Fall or Spring? Both
035. Limewire or iTunes: iTunes
036. Soccer or baseball: Neither

FIRSTS
037. First surgery: Tonsilectomy, a loooong time ago (late 70s)
038. First piercing: When I was an infant, ear piercing *thanks Mom*
039. First best friend: Gank of 5 fifth graders back home in Jakarta
040. First sport: Swimming
041. First award: high school choir (1988)
042. First crush: eighth grade
043. First pet: strayed cat, named her ‘Nala’
044. First big vacation: Jakarta, Bali, Ubud, Yogyakarta (Indonesia) and Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia) in 2001.
045. First big birthday: Never had a ‘big’ birthday.

CURRENTLY
046. Eating: A bag of Cheetos
047. Drinking: V8 juice on ice
048. I’m about to: Go home from work
049. Listening to: phones ringing, patients’ complain and request
050. Singing: Amy Winehouse’s Rehab
051. Typing: Patient’s information, appointment details, etc
052. Waiting for: Lunch time

YOUR FUTURE
053. Want kids: Yes
054. When: Already have 2 beautiful kids, a girl (2001) and a boy (2002)*what more could I ask for?*
055. Want to get married: Why of course.
056. When: 06/10/00
057. Where do you want to live: Ideally? Somewhere with 70 degrees weather all year long
058. Careers in mind: Never set in stone, will go with the flow
059. What did you want to be when you were little: a rich person
060. Mellow future or wild: OMG, no drama, please…
061. Something you would never try: Bungee jumping, sky diving, everything related to jumping off a very high place

WHICH IS BETTER FOR A MAN
062. Lips or eyes: eyes
063. Shorter or taller: both
064. Romantic or spontaneous: if a guy does something spontaneous for a woman, I think it’s kind of romantic
065. Nice stomach or nice arms: both
066. Sensitive or loud: sensitive
067. Hook up or relationship: relationship
068. Trouble maker or hesitant: well this question sucks… should ask for a ‘confident’ one instead
069. Hugging or kissing: both
070. Tan skinned or light: both
071. Dark or light hair: both
072. Muscular or normal: normal

HAVE YOU EVER
073. Lost glasses/contacts: Yes
074. Ran away from home: Yes
075. Held a gun/knife for self defense: No
076. Killed somebody: No. Felt strongly about doing it? Sometimes.
077. Broken someone’s heart: Yes
078. Been arrested: No
079. Cried when someone died: Yes. Even if it’s not a friend or family. I cried when patients whom I knew passed away.
080. Kissed a stranger: Yes
081. Climbed up a tree: Yes
082. Liked a friend more than a friend: No

DO YOU BELIEVE IN
083. Yourself: Yes
084. Miracles: No
085. Love at first sight: No
086. Heaven: No
087. Santa Claus: No
088. Kiss on the first date: Sure

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY
089. Is there one person you want to be with right now: Already is
090. Do you like someone: I like nice people
091. Are you seriously happy with what you are in life: Yes

LASTS
092. Received/sent text message: Hallie, a coworker
093. Received call: Patients (at work today), hubby (cell phone last night)
094. Call made: To hubby’s cell phone last night
095. Person(s) you hang out with: My 8 year old daughter, Davi, and a friend of hers last Saturday at Kil’n Time Studio