While most people are probably more familiar with Roald Dahl's children books, I know him more as an excellent adult (not as in erotic) short story writer. Don't blame me, there was no Dahl's children books available when I was a kid:) (not that I wasn't an avid book reader, mind you).

The first time I read Dahl's works was on the first years of college, around 1995. I took this English course at campus, and one of the final tests was based on Dahl's compilation of eight short stories. They were so great and gripping they still stick into my mind until now. Most of them are about misfits, like this man who plays conductor every night in an empty room as an escapism of his frustrating life.

The way Dahl wrote it, some may say it's macabre, but it also has a dose of humor amid dark, with surprise endings. It reminds me of the style of another short story author I love, Kurt Vonnegut.
Anyway, during the test at the English course, the Belgian teacher asked me what was the book was all about. And I, being young and stupid, with limited English, replied confidently "It's basically about losers.. people who are not very successful in life."
I remember the teacher nodded quietly for several seconds, eyes looking at a distance, before asking the next question:)

Afterward, I began to seek for other Dahl's books, including those for children, like Matilda.
Last weekend, I was reminded again of the whole thing about me being an insensitive 19 year-old who knew nothing about life (still knows nothing now). But also, after not reading Dahl's books for a long time, I got to remember again how great and inspiring Roald Dahl is, or was. All of them came after watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I love the way Tim Burton interprets the book -- he never fails me, anyway.. except for that bloody Pee Wee Herman film. Johnny Depp was great, and so are the kids, and of course the oompa loompas, who have a thing for 80s music :D But everything wouldn't have worked out without a great story -- the beautiful, funny, witty, with loads of moral stories, and never out of date.

It has been so long since I felt really happy after watching a film. Not just happy happy. I mean reaaally truuully happy, with smile that lasts for hours, the joy that lingers, and unbeliavably high optimism for the future. Not since Amelie.

All because of a great man named Roald Dahl. Here's to you.

Posted by hera at 6:20 PM | Permalinks | Comments   

As hubby wasn't available, I went to a wedding reception with a few buddies on weekend. It was of our good friend, the now-former serial monogamist, with commitment issue. So, everyone was, like, patting him on the back and said "finally!". But we were a bit worried cause the groom seemed to still have cold feet during the wedding. And rumor has it that he proposed to the bride because: A. His family, tired of being introduced to a series of so-called prospective wife-to-be, urged (read: threatened) him to get married, and B. He forgot the then girlfriend's birthday.

Notes on point B: The then-girlfriend was fuming and confronted him "You haven't bought any present, have you??". Panicked, my friend said "I do! I do have a birthday present for you!" and he popped up the question. That bastard:)

When we confronted the groom, he begged us not to spread the rumor. We said OK (yeah, right :P), but told him to treat his wife good and not cheat on her. He laughed and said, "Well, that depends on God's intention..". That was when the girls, including me, kicked his leg, before handing the bride the contact number of the national commission for violence against women (kidding :P).

However, as I used to be afraid of anything to do with marriage myself, I must say that despite everything, he must really love the girlfriend so much to finally have the guts to get married. So, here's for love and happiness 'til death do you part!

Posted by hera at 4:30 PM | Permalinks | Comments   

So, today is the Independence Day (not Anniversary Day or Independence Anniversary according to the check editor in the office :P). Of all the things that comes to mind every Aug. 17 is my family's former maid....oh my god, I completely forgot her name:(

Anyway, she comes from my father's hometown, a village in Ciamis, the east part of West Java, where Independence Day celebration is such a big deal.
The hierarchy of the day is the same as Iedul Fitri that the maid always asked for days off. The celebration, she told me, is actually same old same old; soccer matches (which ALWAYS ends up in brutal fight even among adults), climbing pinang tree, cooking competition for men, and so on. But still, the maid (that's it, I'm calling my mom) kept returning to her village that day. At Iedul Fitri, she often waited for the third day of Iedul Fitri to go back home, but not for 17-an, which still amazes me to this day.

Here in Rusun, the festivity has began last week, with flyers, banners, red and white flags sprawled all over the place; ping pong table set in every block, and there's this bazaar with stalls selling food, clothes etc.; it's really festive.

Well, I'm leaving rusun soon, which I'm excited about. But I'm really gonna miss this place, especially the people. The crybaby, well, baby across our place named Rama, with creepy father who, everytime he called his son, he sounded more of like a paedophile calling for his prey. The Arab man with his Indonesian mistress who cried out 'Mahmood.. please, Mahmood' and begged in broken English everytime they have a row. That ibu kantin whose teenage daughter is such a drama queen that there has never been once that the girl's not crying dramatically everytime we dropped by their place. There are also Phiay the rusun broker, Pak Tua who always helped us with everything, Audi the banci kaleng, and of course Mbak Devi.

Newsflash from Mbak Devi: She aimed for Japan! My husband dropped by her place a while ago, to give her the magazine with rusun story in it, and Mbak Devi asked to be photograph again.
"Please, I need to be photographed in very sexy poses," she said, which of course freaked my husband out :D
Mbak Devi said the agent for transexual workers in Japan has extended the age limit for the workers to 30 to 35. "Akika sih 35, tapi masih bisa lah ya, bo. Gilingaan," she lashed out a manly laugh :D

I'm moving to the new house the end of this month. But not after a farewell party with Mbak Devi of course!

Posted by hera at 3:14 PM | Permalinks | Comments   

Wanted : A (male) anger management instructor (good looking is a must)
Lessons expected : Quick Wit 101, Shortfused-no-more 101, Just-grin-and-bear-it 101
Objectives :
1. To channel anger healthily, in any way that will not resulted in getting fired, expelled from social communities or causing both physical and mental disturbance to self or other.
2. To be able to give respond beyond jawdrop, headshake, loud exhale or incoherent babbles when certain people (particularly insensitive rich kid#1 or editor bully) get into nerves.
3. To recognize fully that one cannot prevent people from the urge to make others' lives shitty, therefore just grin and bear it.
4. To keep in mind that overwhelming emotion will earn one asthma attack, and thus another trip to hospital's ER, as well as unattractive lines on one's face.
5. To remember that if nothing works, one can always blame one's parents for all the shittiness in life :P

Posted by hera at 2:36 PM | Permalinks | Comments   

The job quest faced another blow this morning. I had an interview with a travel magazine, whose sister publication is that glossy society magazine I turned down earlier.
Anyway, based on the ad, the job is supposed to be a staffwriter. Turned out, they need a writer for (tadaa) advertorial pages. Rasanya aku mau pengsan.

I was stunned, but I thought, well maybe if the salary was good.. But the editor said that he didn't know anything about the salary range, and I had to ask the human resources. I'm sensing that they pay small money as well since it was only the advertorial page.
I still gave it another shot and offered to do it on freelance basis, they said no, so that's it.

That's it, man.

I should seriously make that proposal and find investor to establish my own magazine. Anyone?

Posted by hera at 1:46 PM | Permalinks | Comments   

Last night, I saw the crappiest film I've ever seen in my entire life: An Indonesian film called 'Cinta Silver' (Silver Love). Oh my god, it was a total shit it shouldn't have been released at all. It's even crappier than the Blackeye Peas CD I bought (i'ts apple and orange, I know, but I couldn't resist) after reading a glowing review in the Rolling Stone (damn you Rolling Stone).

But, I refuse to let that bother me. I refuse to let shitty day at work, or any other things bother me. Because me and my husband just bought a HOUSE. Yes, a house, yay!!
After a month of going back and forth to places, dealing with banks, pushy housing agent (oh that bitch), finding loans after loans, and signing a gazillion of documents, the house is finally ours yesterday.It's pretty small though, but nice, and the neighborhood is lovely.

Wow, I have a house, I have bank loans.. I'm an adult! :) Have to think hard on how to pay the installments, though, but let's worry latter.

So guys, just wait for the housewarming invitation. But don't be surprise if it was a potluck housewarming :P.

Posted by hera at 11:57 AM | Permalinks | Comments