Seconds [2010]

One day consists of 86,400 seconds. This is one of them.



In relation to my last post, so as to not paint a "Bah, humbug!"-y picture of me. Because I do believe in love. It's just right now.. I'm a bit too tired.

Obsession, part huit - D'Sound

I remember hearing D'Sound's Tattooed On My Mind from their Beauty Is a Blessing album on my brother's computer for the first time. I remember begging him to just give me their CD, because really, he's ripped them on his computer and he doesn't need the physical CD anymore. Because I need it. I remember him finally giving in, and that the first time I played it, it was raining outside, and I had just got  home from school and I was so happy, I didn't bother getting changed from my uniform.

I remember chatting for hours with Sphyra online, interspersed with silly chatter in the #MD-Indo room on IRC, with D'Sound playing softly in the background, because I didn't want to sleep, and staying awake till I was exhausted meant that I didn't have to spend time staring at the cracked white ceiling of my grandparent's home.

I remember shoving D'Sound down Jo's throat around about the time I started sleeping over at her place, because THEY'RE MY FAVE BAND EVER, and convincing people that I have really cool taste in music was a valid way of interacting back then.

I remember driving around aimlessly at night with their many songs from their many albums played on shuffle, because that's partly how I convinced myself that staying in one city long enough to finish my degree is the logical (and responsible) thing to do.

I remember getting over break ups and make ups with their songs. I remember the excitement of finally seeing their CD in a record store, and buying it even though I was on a tight student budget. I remember long drives to Jakarta, shouting along to their songs, much to the chagrin of random friends who happen to accompany me, because I really can't sing.

I remember pulling all nighters with headphones on tight, because the designers always insist on playing loud heavy metal bands or fucking Kelly Clarkson at midnight, and I need something to help me concentrate on the article I've neglected for the past month.

So many memories.

This band got me through a lot of things. And I will never be able to tell them just how much they mean to me.

Except, oh hang on.. I did.

I remember the night I had dinner with Simone, the vocalist for D'Sound. She was the nicest, sweetest and friendliest person ever. She was also worried that I sneaked off to meet her when I was supposed to be studying for my Econ finals (7am the next day). I remember choking on the crushed almonds that were stirred in my hot cocoa. And my friends laughing at me because I was so shy. The next night, I went to their gig in Bandung, stood front row center, and at the end of the night, she saw me and recognized me, and managed to say she was glad we came.

I will always have a special place in my heart for D'Sound.

silly rain

I was always a fortunate kid, and I think I was pretty priviledged. My parents are't exactly rolling in dough, but I definitely had a comfortable childhood. My first home was, as I remembered it, huge. Enough room for me to crawl under tables and imagine elaborate stories where I was Kamen Rider's plucky young sidekick, and the world needed my very vague but very important talents. And lovely blank walls I was allowed to 'decorate' with childish scribbles and valiant attempts at forging my parent's signatures (they never signed off on assignments and permission slips, they eventually gave up asking if I needed anything signed).

We had a sprawling back garden filled with Duku trees and Mango trees, and shapely Salak palm trees in the distance (which I had to be careful about approaching, because SNAKES!), and rows upon rows of Suflir that sit pretty, awaiting my mum's attention. There was enough room for me to practice riding my bike and a gently slopped roof where my brother had his afternoon naps. I tried joining him once, I was rewarded with laughter as I got stuck and spent half an hour trying to get back down.

I was rarely bored at home, even if I spent hours alone. I was a pretty self sufficient kid, easily amused by my own imagination. And if I was ever really desperately lonely, I could always hop down a stone path to my gran's sister's house next door and bug my teenage aunts and uncles, settling down for an afternoon of noodles and music I didn't quite understand. Or if I wanted to play with someone my own age I could ask my Mbak to hail a becak so I can ride to my gran's house and trick my younger (by 6 months!!) cousin into doing something silly. She was always a lot more sensible than I ever was.

Approaching dusk, I'd have to be safely ushered indoors because that would be the time the wild monkeys would come out to play, swinging on washing lines, ripping of any unfortunate item of clothing forgotten there. They'd be wreaking general havoc, as I watched fascinated safe behind a pane of glass. I took the saying "Monkey see, monkey do." to a whole other level, I consider it a stroke of luck that I didn't turn out violent like those bastards.

This sudden onslaught of nostalgia was brought on by the rain. And I think my love of rain started from that house. My Condet house. Because we had a nice patio, with the most uncomfortable rattan lounger where I nevertheless spent hours watching it pour down. This lovely thick curtain of water obscuring the world outside, keeping me safe from monkeys, and mosquitoes. Cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning never really scared me, and I'd stay curled up with a mug of hot chocolate, quietly enjoying the feeling of being some type of magical creature living behind a waterfall.

It's raining today, and I'm safe inside my tiny little picture perfect brick house. But right now, I'm remembering Condet, and all the happy moments I spent there as a child.

easily amused~

I feel ya Russell.. You know.. Sans pubes comment.

Traveling with friends = BEYOND AWESOME, but I can't deny that traveling alone is one of my favorite things to do. The plane ride, filled with melancholic staring of the fluffy white clouds outside (and then your eyes hurting because fuck it it's too damn bright), and the awkward look the taxi driver gives you when you're obviously on holiday alone.. I'm weird but it just fills me with glee, okay. Honestly, I like holidays on my own because I get to space out in a strange new place and it's a lot more romantic to smile at strangers having fun, rather than when you're out with your friends and they're bugging you to just fucking get ready, the trannies are about to start their awesome pole dancing at the gay bar across town. (Which were honestly hands down, some of the best dancing I've ever seen.)

White Wine In The Sun by Tim Minchin

I want to see him live. :)

hello lover~~

I should stop having love affairs with websites, but alas.. The internet is such a wonderful place.

I can't believe I've neglected to mention Book Depository on my (sporadically updated, and altogether rather pathetic excuse of a) blog. I'm not sure how I stumbled on it in the first place.. It might have been on a hunt for a book, or it might have been fate. I don't know. I'm feeling romantic, so let's just call it fate.

Why do I love it so?

No paypal account needed.
I can pay straight from my credit card. I do have a paypal, and I do occasioanlly use it to purchase things fom ebay of etsy, but the credit card associated with that account is now dead. And I can't be bothered to register another card. I could. But I'm lazy. So this may not be a plus point for everyone, but having the choice matters to me.

Free shipping.. EVERYWHERE.
Seriously. Everywhere. It's not some random promotion or a seasonal thing. It's free shipping. Everywhere. All the time. I'm in heaven. Frankly speaking, shipping is a bitch. Most times the shipping costs is more than the cost of the actual item when you order things from Indonesia, and whilst I don't mind forking out the shipping money - free shipping is a godsend.

The way the books are shipped.
Tax is also a bitch. If I'm not mistaken, if you purchase items worth more than $50 online.. You have to pay additional tax when it gets here. Whilst it is mostly over looked in Jakarta (where people tend to spend lots on online shopping from international websites), I know my friends have had troubles in smaller cities. Even in Bandung. Book Depository sends their books individually, so the cost of each package never goes to $50 - no matter how many books you've purchased. I once purchased around 7 books (not all mine!) and they were all shipped on the same day, individually packaged. Best thing? They arrived on the same day too!

Great customer service!
My last purchase went missing. My stomach was in knots. I waited up to a month before I started panicking. Then Deskynowsky (one my victims from recommending Book Depository. Avid shopper :p) told me it happened to one of her shipments once and she reported it. They immediately sent her replacement copies. I tried to contact them, the response was immediate, polite and helpful. They gave me a choice of my money back, or replacement books. I chose the books! Waiting on their arrival now!

Honest to God, they're not paying me for this post! Haha, I'm just so very, very in love right now.


Seriously, reading is bad for me. I'm such a book whore. Reading is so time consuming, highly distracting (I always get sidetracked by shiny books!) and so frigging expensive. I spent my time reading online stories when I got desperate - It's that bad.

My wages mostly go to books and bras. Expensive hobbies. So Book Depository was a godsend. Aksara is way overpriced with a poor selection of titles, Kinokuniya is also a little on the expensive side for me. Periplus and Times is awesome, but they are ever so tiny, and they don't always have the books I want. Gramedia is cheap, but again - poor selection of books. Second hand book stores don't have the new titles.. etc etc.

Now if I could only find an online bra store that stocks the good stuff with free shipping.....

Crossposted at ficklebookwhore.

Happy 40th anniversary W!

I don't usually share my love of magazine photos on my blog, I save that for my pinterest board, but this one is just way too hot. Look at Scarlett Johansson being all grungy and shit.. I never crushed on her the way some of my friends did, but I seriously love this photo. Granted, the nose ring is a bit big, but her lips in that shade of red, with the eye make-up and the rings.. The eye make up! Ugh! Absolutely brilliant.

This cover is one of four that Steven Klein did for W, the other three being Rooney Mara representing the 70s, Mia Wasikowska for the 80s, and Kiera Knightley doing the 2000s. I'm not being biased, but ScarJo was supposed to be the 90s - my favourite decade.

Don't you think she would have made a (visually) perfect Rogue from X-Men?? Maybe the make up and hair was Rogue-inspired? ;)

Maybe it's because I've always had a soft spot for comic book-verse rogue and/or the fact that the 90s was my favourite decade, but I'm just completely in love with the photo.

In other news, I'm back toiling away as an editor in my old magazine. Got a promotion though. MWAHA!