One Of The Things I Can’t Live Without

…is the Internet. Especially now that I have several projects which include the use of the internet to expand their market and flexibilities, thus I have decided to subscribe to Cable Internet.

For those of you who haven’t heard of it, a while ago this new ISP (Internet Service Provider) called FastNet (a part of First Media cable provider) came up with their new internet cable services which started off from Rp. 99,000 for the speed of 368 kbps.

Since I’m already a subscriber of First Media cable services, I decided – after a long thought-processing and consideration – to take the next obvious step – which is subscribing to their cable internet service. Before this day, I was a desperate user of Telkomnyet Instan. Yes, that yoke who charges Rp. 10,000 per hour for a ridiculous speed of 21,8 kbps.

So on Monday I made an appointment with First Media Customer Service for the installation of FastNet at my house, which she booked for Wednesday the 30th scheduled between 9 am to 12 pm. As I have read from many other users who have subscribed to FastNet 768, it is as proven that the installation take two days after the appointment is made.

Although I’d been waiting since 9 am, the cable guys were nowhere to be seen, even when the clock struck 12 pm. Previously I’d made a couple of confirmation calls to the Customer Service and I also asked the ETA of the cable guys but the CS officer told me that I just had to wait. Hmm. I have heard several complains on forums and blogs about First Media Customer Services who seem to lack communications within each other so I told myself to be patient.

Nevertheless, I got a phone call around 12.30 pm saying that the cable guys were on their way to my house and they wanted to make sure I was home. They turned up at 1 pm and soon got busy with the cables and the modems and what elses.

After thirty minutes of installation, one of the guys who was installing the modem to my computer (his name was Winarto, the other guy struggling with the cables outside was Slamet) taught me to test the connection, and here’s the result:

I admit that opening sites such as Blogger or Yahoo has no longer become a time-consuming experience for me. Even for a site like blogger, I had to reload for at least 5 times (until I gave up) before the page actually came up because usually I just received a blank page with nothing in it whatsoever, which was why blogging into my personal blog had become a struggling activity which involved exercising my fingers (due from over clicking the mouse in such furious state).

After the cable guys bade their farewell, I rechecked the connection a couple of times again and this is the last result that I received:

Well, let’s just see how this one holds up, shall we?

A Perfect Cut

My beau and I got our haircut yesterday – yes, apparently we do everything together. The last time we got our haircut, we did it together as well.

I have been wearing my hair short for the last three years, even though I used to have it long past my shoulder, but since I came back overseas I found that I couldn’t handle the humidity in Jakarta and so after gradually going shorter from past-shoulder length to shoulder length (which only lasted for 6 months, mind you), I ended up with the shortest length in which I called it the Miranda cut.

And just in case you don’t know which Miranda I’m talking about, it’s the cynical corporate lawyer from Sex and the City. The reason why I honored the cut with such description was because no matter what instructions or image referrals I had given to the hairdressers, they always ended up giving me the masculine, lawyer-type hairstyle which definitely looked good on her, but didn’t do justice on me, because she happens to have an oval shaped, high cheek-boned face whereas I have this round, chubby face that make me look like I have permanent baby fat.

But the Miranda cut always grow on me – day by day as I look at myself in the mirror I hear myself thinking, “Aye, not bad, not bad at all,” posing this way and that and tweaking the fringe a bit more with a hair wax and at the end of the day feeling hopeless because instead of the hair looking messy-sexy (as Miranda’s would), it goes flat and limpy  – so not sexy at all!

If that isn’t bad enough, people around me seem a tad bit too eager in telling me how fugly I have become whenever I got my hair cut.

“Why did you get a haircut again? You look even less of a girl now.” Gee, thanks.

“Oh my God, what happened to your head? You know, from your legs up you might look like a girl (I happened to paint my toenails that day) but from the waist up, no one can tell what gender you are (chuckle, chuckle, chuckle)” – this actually came from my manager at work whose face looked like a butchered pig.

“Why don’t you grow your hair longer, at least up to your shoulder, you know? Then you won’t look so … macho.” which make me feel like I’ve grown Arnold biceps.

But I love my hair short – it’s one of the things that define me as the person I am – practical and simple. I know I will never have the time to do my hair everyday, as I’m the get up and go sort of person who rarely touches the hairdryer that even my dog gets blow-dried more often than I do.

And even if I tend to ignore what others say about me, they kind of get to me too, especially on bad hair days when my hair doesn’t want to behave.

So it’s amazing to find out that the only person who loves my hair short is my beau. When every other person in the world tells me how terrible my haircut makes me look, he instead tells me that I look so much cuter and age five years younger, and that makes me realize, time and time again, that he’s the only person who sees me the way I want to see myself.

So haul along the Miranda cut, I’m up for it!

The Ladies Luncheon On A Sunny Saturday

Have you ever met a person for the first time and totally feel comfortable being around them? As for me, it doesn’t happen very often. But when I met Ivy and Cn last Saturday (26/01/08), I was surprised to find how easy it was to be with them, it almost felt like we had been friends for ages.

I’ve been a regular reader of Cn’s and Ivy’s blogs for quite a few months now and we often chat and crack up jokes and basically talk about everything in our own little chatterboxes. I am also a regular of Syl’s blog, a girl I’ve known way back since college days. Needless to say, the first things that I load up the minute I go online are the blogs which belong to those friends of mine – and after I’m all done getting the initial updates on what’s happening with their lives, I continue checking my e-mails and browsing other things. It’s almost like a dose of virtual-reality to my socially dry life.

When we decided to meet, I admit I was a bit nervous, but I was also hyped up with excitement of finally meeting the people who were responsible for the strangeness of my behavior in front of my laptop; which included stifled chuckles or contained drooling (Yes, Ivy I am talking about your blog.) So when I finally met them for a ladies luncheon at Sushi Tei in Plaza Indonesia, I was surprised to know that:

Cn was a feisty little lady, I figured that much through her writings on her blog, but in real life she was so friendly and chatty, and not at all like the “Hey you! Move outta my way!” kind of girl that I originally thought. Plus, she was hilarious. Every little thing that she said made want to laugh; they were so undeniably true and incredibly witty that I just couldn’t agree more.

As for Ivy – I have to agree with Cn; what a hot mama. Even though she’s had two kids, she didn’t look like those mothers with so-and-so kids who just let go with their bodies and overcompensate it with clothes and make up. She had a lovely figure and a calm, elegant disposition which all of a sudden disappeared and replaced by warm laughters and twinkling eyes when she got to tell us the funny stories of her life.

And last but not least came Syl – which I hadn’t seen for a long time and missed so much it bloody hurt. She updated us all with the juicy details of the highs and lows of working as a pre-school teacher, in which the subject moved on nicely to the modern kids who seemed to have gotten smarter and trickier to handle.

All in all, I had a super time with them, and as much as it surprised me how comfortable I felt hanging out with them, as I was on my way to meet them and pacing myself up to Sushi Tei, I had a feeling already that this lunch would be a fantastic start of a great friendship. Thank you girls, for the nice lunch, and many thanks to Ivy for treating us all. I cannot wait to see all of you again – and next time let’s pick up a place where we can lay low for hours without the waiters giving us Medusa looks hehe.

*The photograph was taken in front of Sushi Tei after the lunch, courtesy of Ivy’s blog. L-R: Me, Ivy, Syl and Cn.

A Letter To The Anti-Feminist

This is one particular thought that has been bothering my mind for quite a long time, and because it has recently become more visible, I have decided to bring it up once and for all.

I am sick of being discriminated just because I have a vagina. But the feeling becomes even more revolting when I see women who are attacking their own gender. For me, that is definitely something I cannot forgive.

We all know how difficult being a woman is – even in a modern city like Jakarta, where we can find growing numbers of career women who, day by day, are defying the traditional social deconstruction of what a woman should be. When ten years ago I still witnessed twenty five years olds on the verge of going through nervous breakdowns because they were yet to be married off, nowadays it’s more like: “I’m thirty four, I am single and successful, and I am enjoying my life. So sod off.”

Even though such attitude might be perceived as being arrogant, I simply see it as a way of building self-confidence.

God knows, women in this country needs it badly – after years and years of being stomped over by men who were brainwashed by their predecessors to disclose us as the less intelligent, second-class citizens who were only good for minding the house and raising the children, now that we are achieving our own independence and proving to the world that we are just as capable – if not more – as men, women are gradually becoming more aware of their talents and purposes in life.

Suddenly, life does not have to round up into just one goal: To find a good, preferably rich husband, get married off, have children and grow old. Of course there is nothing wrong with this ideal, because after all it has been imprinted on our minds since we were born that it is our destiny as the female being to start a family (even more of an obligation for us rather than the male, I think); but don’t we have the rights even to our own wombs? Don’t we have the rights to choose not to get married? Don’t we have the rights to remain single and pursue our dreams?

And now that we finally have the freedom to voice out our objections, there is a new form of war that independent women must fight – which is the fight against their own kind.

The kind who prefer to obey and go back to the patriarchal ways because they are too afraid to step out of their comfort zones. The kind who choose to take sides to chivalry because independent women are still out-numbered.
The kind who condemns women for being able to drive their own car, making their own money, succeeding in their own career and taking care of themselves without having to conform to the norm of the society.
The kind who instead of supporting, are feeling rather threatened by the new female revolution.
Simply put, these women are the kind who cannot make their own minds up because they have been used to be told what to do for so long, or even allow themselves to let men lead their lives around. Because if they are not, there is no reason why they must attack their own kind, isn’t it?

Recently I was surprised upon reading an article from a blog which was contributed by a woman who was saying that women in Jakarta were often sexually harassed because they were not dressed politely enough. She also wrote that female drivers were the worst out of all drivers. On top of that, she added that these same women were most likely shopaholics who frequent beauty spas to make themselves look more beautiful, and in the end concluding her last point that these women were using their physiques as a medium for marketing tools in promotional events at exhibitions.

Now I don’t know about you, but I personally have to disagree with those points.

First of all, even if we were dressed in burqas from head to toe, it still did not guarantee us from not being sexually harassed by men – those of you who have experienced this personally (and I’m sure you have, because what woman hasn’t? In the exception if she was butt ugly that even a dog would recoil just by looking at her) would definitely agree that covering up is not the prevention of sexual harassment, but it’s the weakness of the minds of men for not being able to contain their desire, which makes them act upon it.

Why is it that women in countries such as Singapore or Thailand are secure enough to get out of the house in tank tops and mini-skirts and not fearing that they will get raped? Because the minds of the men in those countries are well-educated enough to respect women in terms of what they want to wear and that to sexually harass women by judging the clothes they wear is an unquestionable sign of a weak character.

Now, for female being the worst driver – if it’s coming from the mouth of a man, isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black? According to car insurance company such as insurance.com, they quote that many auto insurance industries are in fact requiring male drivers to pay more insurance because they have more tendencies to drive aggressively, which includes speeding and ignoring the risk of not using the safety belt, and the reason why there are increasing numbers of aggressive female drivers is because they have taken example of such bad habit displayed by men. As for being worst drivers, I take it that this term actually comes from a man who cannot tolerate the habit of a female driver who, instead of being less, is actually more cautious than men. As for me, I personally know for a fact that there are very excellent female drivers out there, such as my girlfriends, for example. We even struck up a discussion about the behavior of other (presumably, if not most probably, male) drivers who are unthinkably dangerous and reckless. Do women drive worse than men? Think again.

Not lets move on to the shopaholic label, shall we? If, say, you are a woman who makes your own money or even supplied by plentiful sources of money, wouldn’t it be a luxury to be able to spend it however you like it? If I were one of those women, I wouldn’t give a flying F if other people label me as a shopaholic. If you had the money, wouldn’t you love the freedom of being able to purchase what you want? Call me materialistic, call me consumtive, as long as this hobby is not disadvantaging, why should other people make such a fuss? Besides, even though we spend more, we are the ones who are well known for being the expert on bargaining (even the person who wrote the article admitted this, though oddly enough she made it sound as a negative trait of a woman) and getting the best price of everything.

Even though this is purely based on my assumption, I do not doubt that the person who wrote this article, provided if she actually was a woman herself, will not refuse to be in the position of those women which she labeled as being shopaholic. I don’t also doubt for a second that for a woman to conform to the male domination, they are also relying much heavily on the existence of the male being, this including money and the freedom to purchase whatever she desires. I hope that in the future there will be more financially independent women as opposed to less male-depending women, because apart from it being unhealthy, it puts your life in other person’s control. If he limits your spending, then you feel declined to ask for more, because you are living off a person who is financing you.

As for beauty spas, this goes without saying – what woman doesn’t like to pamper herself? Is it such a crime for her to want to look beautiful? If you are fugly, wouldn’t you want to make yourself appear better? Ever heard of the saying ‘when you look good, you feel good?’ before? Complain as you like, but we live in a judgmental world – first impression does count, however much you object to it.

And so we have come to the last ‘so-called’ depiction of a typical Jakartan female; women as a marketing/promotional tools. True, I have seen more women doubling as a crowd attraction/sales promotion in events such as car and computer exhibitions. These women are probably in their early twenties, still in college or on their way to graduating, so I assume they have less or no working experience whatsoever. The representation of a female, be it a painting of Monalisa or the curvaceous body of Marylin Monroe, is still, somehow a lot more attractive figure in the public, and if they are proven effective to attract the crowds, who are we to argue whether or not this is wrong or right?

Again, why are women always being the one judged for whatever it is they want to do? It takes a lot of guts wearing mini-skirts and tank tops in front of the male visitors who are staring at them lustily. But it takes even more guts for a woman to take the first steps on being independent and earning your first cash. Everyone has their moments, be it good or bad. What we should applaud is their courage to take the chance.

I admit I feel a wave of dissatisfaction after reading that article. For all the fight and struggle women have to endure, is that not enough that we are also getting the disapproving look from our own kind? I cannot help but asking to those women, do you know how it feels like for a girl? In this world (Yes, it’s a song by Madonna)? Is it really that much easier for them to give up and continue being discriminated, to give away the freedom women have been fighting for so long as a right that has been long overdue, and never finding out what it feels like to be given equal rights?

You may say I am taking things too seriously , but I refuse to give, not even a smallest bit of chance,for men to once again rule over me nor any woman, and for men to try telling me about what I should or should not do with my life.

To end this article, I would like to quote Susan Faludi’s words on Backlash;

“Because women’s hours on the stage is long, long overdue. Because, whatever new obstacles are mounted against the future march toward equality, whatever new myths invented, penalties levied, opportunities rescinded, or degradations imposed, no one can take from the [American] woman the justness of her cause.”

Slowly But Sure – Too Fast Too Furious

Have you ever noticed that Indonesians have the habit of being slow when it comes to the importance of others?

Take the girls at the supermarket check-out counters, for example. They beep every single item of my purchase in such a slow pace, it almost drives me nuts. If I had to do it myself, it would have taken me half the time that it takes them to do it. I can’t help but wondering why they are so slow – perhaps they are dieting and skipping lunch so they lack the energy to move faster or perhaps they just have a row with their husbands and they feel a bit down. What do you think?

I also notice the same thing when it comes to those who do administrative jobs in banks or government offices. Everything is being processed in such painstakingly slow ways, totally oblivious with the build up of queues of people waiting and the impatience most people have to endure, not to mention also the time that is already wasted for waiting in line just to process something that should have taken a mere five minutes to get done.

But do you also notice that when it comes to the importance of themselves, all of a sudden Indonesian people develop a fast-paced, even impatient attitude of getting things done?

Take the freeway, for example, and count how many people are driving over the speed limits just because they want to get to their destination faster, or those who can’t be bothered to get in line behind the queue of the exit gate that they actually cut other people’s path who are already queueing way before they do, thus creating a traffic jam because instead of a one organised line there are two or three lines queueing to get out of a road that is only meant for one vehicle. I’m sure any of you have been in such situation before, or perhaps you are one of those people who like to cut other people’s paths?

The same thing also happens on a busy road where there is only a couple of zebra crosses to use. Most pedestrians can’t be bothered to wait for the traffic light to turn red so they decide to jaywalk and risk their lives by crossing the road anywhere they like. And of course because there are so many of them crossing the road, those who are on vehicles are forced to slow down and stop, which again, causes traffic jam to the vehicles behind them who are wondering what the hell is going on, because the light has turned green but the traffic is not moving.

The irony of it all is that Indonesia is supposed to be a religious country, and yet there is no other place where I have witnessed selfishness that is so potent and obvious such as what I see in this country, that to meet a truly selfless person compels the raise of an eyebrow and a wave of suspicion.

The second irony, which is far worse than the first is the fact that my fellow workmates used to tease for being such a fast walker. “You walk so fast, it makes you look like a man” they said. When all the while I kept thinking, “I’m not the one who is walking too fast but you are the one who is walking too slow.”

And the biggest irony of it all is that most Indonesians are failing to recognize the right time to be patient and taking things slowly, or when it’s time to be quick and acting promptly.

I love my country, but the people in it are making it harder for me to do so.