Found: Long Lost Friend

Never underestimate the power of the Internet.

Remember my post about my long lost best friend, Mila? It was posted 04/14/09 -although I did write in 2007 about reminiscing her and Jakarta, thanks to Gwen Stefani’s 4 in the Morning- then about three months later, she dropped a comment in my  ’Saya’ page of this blog! I was with my family one cold Saturday, enjoying brunch in a small local cafe after the kids were done competing at the Iowa Games track and field event. My iPhone dinged to informed that I just got an email. We were still waiting for our food to come, so I checked my Gmail and read that WordPress, my blog host, was asking my approval in relates to someone’s comment to my post. My jaw dropped… it was my long lost best friendher! I was so freaked out! Of course I approved it and replied right away:

emka on July 18, 2009 Edit This

Hi sist, gw lg di puncak, biasa, msh dg kesibukan shtng..
Ada temen ksh tau suruh buka ur blog.. Baca crita kita..
Didinginnya tengah mlm puncak, can u imagine how I feel ?
Tears falling down instantly.. Gosshhh.. Miss u so much !
Miss our friendship, miss everything about us..
Thanks for trying to find me..

Reply

dinysays on July 21, 2009 Edit This

Milaaaaaaa… OMG! Akhirnya nyampe juga suara hatiku -ceile- menyebrangi lautan. Selanjutnya gue email elo aja yah. Miss you, sis!

Reply

After all this time… for about 8 years I did [almost] everything a stalker would do to find her. She must have changed her cell phone number and email. I wasn’t able to reach her there. So I Googled, Youtubed, even Facebooked her name; the result was not satisfying. All results mostly lead me to old news and foto archives from various Indonesian online media.

Then after watching the movie “I Love You, Man” with Paul Rudd which made me think about our friendship,  I decided to write it on my blog. I thought, “What the heck… give it a try.” Months went by without positive news, although some commentators were nice enough to encouraged me not to give up hope and said they’ll try to ask around. Evidently, somewhere in Indonesia, a guy (Mila’s friend whom I also knew) was either bored or doing some PR-ing, did a search on the Net on her name. He, according to Mila, then informed her about my pathetic post; then the rest is history.

***Thanks, Anto… I still feel bad about puking on your lap in the car after a night of clubbing. Very sorry, man.

After a series of hit and miss, we finally were able to chat (I really thank the Internet for bringing Indonesia closer to me virtually). She was having trouble installing the chat programme into her Blackberry for a while.

These messages were sent while you were offline.

5:35 AM mkarmelia: Sorry BB lg ngehang mulu sist.. Baru di upgrade niy..

Sorry lg trouble logging ke google talk niy
Powered by Telkomsel BlackBerry®

So I waited patiently to see that little green bullet ‘available’ icon appear next to her name whenever I open my Gmail. Patience is a virtue, they said. How true. I was at work last Wednesday morning, and was checking my Gmail. all of the sudden, a pop up window showed up on the lower right screen of my computer.

8:58 AM mkarmelia: Hi sis, pa kbr ?
 me: WAAAA!!! ADA MILAAA!!
8:59 AM mkarmelia: Heheheeeee… Maaaaaap !!!
9:00 AM me: ga papa lageee… lagi di mana sis?
 mkarmelia: Drmh lg skt, beteeee.. Dirimu ?
9:01 AM me: kantor. sakit ape? kangen gue sampe sakit begitu, kaciaan :p
9:02 AM mkarmelia: Kejar setoran biasaaaa.. Mplu..
  Kntr apa sis ?

… and so on and so forth

Thank you Leonard Kleinrock for pioneering this, I had found my long lost friend now. 

I’m so glad I found you again, sis. Hope you wouldn’t mind me posting your cute pic with the twins 

“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.

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.

Man’s Underwear for Woman

I guess I have been living under a rock lately, I just found out there’s boxer-type underwear for women being sold out there. Not those sexy ones made of satin/silky material with ruffles on the edges from Somebody’s Secret. I’m talking about the cotton, manly ones like Michael Jordan the guys wear. Hanes called it ‘boy shorts’.

What’s this? Do we women not satisfied with ‘briefs’, ‘bikinis’, ‘hi-cut panties’, ‘hipsters’, and ‘thongs’ anymore? But wait a minute… aren’t there lots of guys (gay men, mostly) now wearing thongs? Even in a public beach and swimming pools (yes, what a scary thought). Who’s the pervert who woke up in the morning one day and thought, “Hm, I like seeing a woman in a man’s underwear. Maybe I should pitch that idea to an undergarment business owner.”

So yeah, I bought a pack of Hanes’ ‘boy shorts’ to try. I thought, “Hm… with winter coming, maybe this will help me to be warmer.” The reason I was thinking that way was because both my husband and my son do have boxer-type of underwear. They are a few inches longer than the brief ones. And they did say they’re a bit warmer. But guess what, after I try them on, it only covers my butt cheeks and probably just below them. “This is not going to help me warm at all. Longjohns (long underwear) would be the only answer,” I thought. Plus, they’re not very comfortable. The seam that goes in the middle on the front and goes down almost to the private area is really not a 100% crotch-friendly. If you know what I’m saying. It kind of gives you ‘camel toe’ impression. Yikes!

So functionality was not the legitimate reason why boxer-type panties were introduced. Practicality? Well, an underwear is an underwear. It goes under your clothes anyway. I could see why hipster panties are practical. For those girls who like to wear hipsters (pants that sit on your hip rather than your waist), of course. So panties won’t peek out. Thongs, I could also see the practicality. If you’re wearing a skirt or pants and don’t want the lining of the panties showing from outside.

Another theory.  If the ‘founder’ was not the pervert guy, it was probably a feminist bitch. After all, we women have been wearing pants for centuries, and a group of these feminists had come up with another way of wearing something that men usually are. And they were the ones who pitched the idea to the fashion/undergarment industry.

Which theory would you go with? Or do you have your own theory?

The Circle of Bribery

Just heard about the Indonesian businesswoman who was sentenced for five years in jail after bribing a senior prosecutor to drop a major emblezzlement case. What the hell was she thinking? A prosecutor? Kudos for the current Indonesian president, SBY, who is keeping his word as promised in 2004 to fight corruption. More details here.

Speaking of bribery, have you ever done one? As long as I could remember, I have not intentionally bribed  an ‘official’ before. I did not have the stomach for it, nor know how to do so. Not a police officer, not a government employee, nor the like. Even when I was actually asked by the ‘official’ himself [to bribe], I was not quite following the down low and just gave him a dumb look, “Huh?”

An example. Long time ago, when I was visiting a police station to get some kind of paper work to apply for a job. In Bahasa Indonesia, it’s called Surat Tanda Kelakuan Baik (STKB), which basically stating that I don’t have any criminal records and I’m a good girl. The officer literally said that if I could come back with a pack of cigarette for him, he’d have it done in 2 hours instead of making me come back the next day or two. Since I was in desperate need for that paper work, I did go find his stinkin’ kretek (clove) cigarette. Sure enough, when I came back 90 minutes later after eating road side ketoprak for lunch, it was ready.

Another example was when I applied for my first ID card or Kartu Tanda Penduduk (KTP) at a local sub-division administrative office (kelurahan). The person behind the counter who happened to look like an official (with his brown government uniform and all those emblems) told me that with some extra money, I could have it done on the same day. When I asked ‘how come?’ , the guy got somewhat offended (which I don’t quite understand). So I thanked him for the offer and said I was fine with the waiting time. He got really upset, “Ya udah. Kalo Ibu nggak mau dibantu, dan mau nunggu lama, terserah aja.” Which would be roughly translated, “Well then, if you don’t want to be helped, and prefer to wait a long time, go ahead.”

Indonesian police officer on the road is mostly notorious, especially in Jakarta. There are certain busy intersections that have too many policemen standing by, waiting for us to make a wrong turn, then whistled us. The scary one is Bunderan HI or the roundabout in front of Hotel Indonesia. I was riding with a friend, and her car was the very front in line at the stoplight. She nervously asked me, “Is this lane OK to make a U-turn? Should I not be on this one? Shit, it’s green! What should I do? Should I go ahead or keep going straight? Aww *bleep* they whistled me. Oh *bleep* here he comes!”
My friend is a very confident woman. Unlike in the US, the driver in Jakarta was OK to get out of a car to talk to the officer. And that’s what she did, after grabbing some money from her purse. I was actually the one who’s sweating and got my heart racing pretty fast. I saw my girl friend was trying to smooth talking the stern-looking officer. Later, I saw her reached something out of her pocket and put something on the officer’s hand so smoothly, it looked like they were shaking hands. The officer looked around to see if anybody’s looking, before he took the ‘thing’ from my friend.

I don’t know how this mentality became a habit for us Indonesians. Is it because we like to do it to get out of a sticky situation? Thus created a suply-demand circle with the authorities? Because if we don’t initiate uang pelicin or money offer to get the proposal get done quickly, officials won’t expect or hope for bribery. Just do it properly, follow the rules, you’ll get there. Eventually.

Vegetarian vs Yogurt

As I was eating my key lime pie-flavored Yoplait yogurt,  for some weird reason my eyes were fixed on ’live and active cultures’ on the container. In other words, living organisms.  Meaning the Lactobacillus bulgaricus and Streptococcus thermaopilus, which convert pasteurized milk to yogurt during fermentation.

Would a vegetarian eat yogurt, then? I pondered. It has a living ‘thing’ in it.

Vegetarianism is, cheating from Wikipedia, the practice of a diet that excludes all animal flesh, including poultry, game, fish, shellfish or crustacea, and the slaughter-by products. Since I skipped a lot of my Microbiology classes back in high school *ahem* especially the microorganism subject, I don’t quite remember the detail about bacterias. Would a few micrometres in length (in the shape of spheres, rods, or spirals) be considered ‘fleshy’ for Lactobacillus or its cousin, Streptococcus?  Does eating something alive or fleshy even though it’s a tiny thing, bother a vegetarian?

Something to keep in mind though, unlike cells of animals, bacteria cells do not contain a nucleus and rarely harbour membrane-bound organelles. In plain English, bacteria does not have chromosomes thus we won’t know if it’s a girl bacteria or a boy bacteria. Not only bacteria lacks of gender identity, it also lacks of proteins and lipids.

So what? We don’t need to call it Miss Lactobacillus or Mr. Streptococcus anyway. I pondered again. No protein or lipids? Even better for the vegetarians. I began to feel confident.

If a tiny living thing doesn’t bother a vegetarian, would the fact that Yoplait contains gelatin -which is made from boiled pig skin, animal bones and hooves- bothered them?