- vipertongue -

The next time someone tells me to “Ambil hikmahnya saja, yan..”,…. I have a pretty clear idea where I plan to shove it after I have taken it.


Based on an an informal survey, I have come to the conclusion that women who listen to Il Divo do not necessarily listen to Pavarotti or Bocelli.  Now I must say, this phenomena completely eludes me…


As you may have guessed, yes I am javanese.  Now let me give you a piece of advice:   before hobbling out into a crowded reception area with a blangkon on your head, be absolutely sure to know which end of it faces forward.  Trust me on this one.


Live in Jakarta once in your life.  Leave before you find it perfectly acceptable to gesek almost a month’s salary for the latest Blackberry just so you can check your milis-cosmo messages and who poked you on Facebook.


(Or if you happen to work for MRA, make that 3 months salary.) *kevlar vest on and siap kabur*


If you are at a karaoke with your date and she starts singing “I Will Survive” with her eyes closed and penuh penghayatan, slowly stand up, step away, and run for your life.


But then again, if you would actually take your date to a karaoke, well..  let’s just leave it at that, shall we?


Just because someone considers me to be trustworthy and honest, I have absolutely no illusions that he actually respects or likes me as a person.


Actual Indonesian Subtitles I Have Encountered in Movie Theaters, #14:  “My father called the crusades a foolish quest, he said it was vanity to force other men to our religion” - Robin of Locksley, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.  Translation: (not translated).


Actual Indonesian Subtitles I Have Encountered in Movie Theaters, #54:  “There is no fate but what you make.” - John Connor, Terminator 2: Judgment Day.  Translation: (not translated).


Actual Indonesian Subtitles I Have Encountered in Movie Theaters, #12:  “Begone, vampire concubine!” - Abraham von Helsing, Bram Stoker’s Dracula.  Translation: “Enyah kau, nyai-nyai iblis!”.   I did not make that up, I swear!


How to get on my mom’s good side?  If you are ever invited over for a dinner, finish *everything* on your plate.  And be sure to ask for a second and third helping. Or else.


You know a movie is gonna suck big-time if it has a contrived dysfunctional family in it, is reviewed as “whimsical and delightful”, and stars a precocious actress that every Lomo-snapping Aksara Hag aspires to be.


Ian McShane as Wolverine, Tom Selleck as Bruce Wayne, and Steve Martin as me.


Cool name for a chinese restaurant: “Cumgorped (d/h Cumi Goreng Pedas)”


When most of the spam in your inbox is about debt consolidation and not penis enlargement, you know we’re definitely in a recession.


When in doubt, sneer.  Sneer like your life depends on it.


The other day, a friend messaged me: “Heran ga sih, orang-orang pada percaya buku The Secret?  Buku paling idiot.”   My reply was: “Yeah well… I happen know a few other books that are just as idiotic, and with more believers pula…”


You know you have have been visiting Bandung too often if you consider “zuppa zuppa” to be the highest form of culinary achievement.  And you seriously don’t wanna get me started on those frickin’ brownies….


And if you do come to Bandung, please do not ask me where to go clubbing.  Why?  Because I am sick and tired of getting that proverbial SMS at 3AM saying “aduh driii…. crowd / musik / tempatnya koq ga happening / ok / hip gene seeeeeh…. i miss dragonfly… huhuhuhuhu…”


And while we are on the subject:  You know you have been living in Jakarta too long when you instinctively know that simple question of “lu suka clubbing dimana?” is a loaded with socio-economic connotations.


I find myself strangely aroused by movies that have establishing shots where the words “Langley, Virginia” are briefly superimposed on the lower left corner of the screen.  And if accompanied by that pseudo-electronic blipping sound as it types out… oooh yeah baby….


But then again, a few years back I actually made the mistake of going to see local movie called “Jakarta Project”, and it had the exact same “Langley, Virginia” blipping on screen.  But then the scene cut to a generic bule sitting at an ancient PC in a kamar kost with an airconditioner with its cable-remote dangling.  I tried so hard not to laugh out loud I think I fractured a rib.


Why is it that every fitness center always has that one woman with a killer bod who keeps mentioning how fat she is every 2.67 minutes?


I was having drinks at the Hard Rock Cafe at EX the other night and had to go to the men’s room.  But instead of the usual male / female signage, one door had a picture of Marilyn Monroe on it, and the other door had George Michael. Frankly, I couldn’t figure out which one was the men’s room.


Besides, do you seriously want to do your personal business in a public restroom that is associated with George Michael in the first place?


A common theme in my Vancouver friends Facebook albums: On the porch with the kids and dog, hiking on trails, picnic at Stanley Park, kayaking on the lake, cutting down a christmas tree in the snow, skiing at Whistler, marching for a cause. A common theme in my Jakarta friends Facebook albums: Champagne flute and ciggie in hand at Dragonfly or Blowfish (in Biyan batwing blouse with skinny jeans), blitzed and drunk at X2 or Tabac, shopping at Zara sale, posing at Bvlgari or Kudeta, Javajakjazzjiffestsoulnationsundaze-what-have-you, wedding reception at Mulia, premiere of Sex and the City with the “sistas”.


“Lu dulu tinggal di Vancouver di bagian yang miskin gitu kali ya, yan?”


Back when I was still in my teens, I mentioned to my sister that I wanted to become the “Ernest Hemingway of fashion” (hey, gimme a break.. I was young back then).  Her response was: “So you’re gonna blow your head off with a shotgun when you’re 61?”


You know you work in advertising if you have ever used “itu ‘kan maunya klien” as an excuse.  Fine, now sit back and watch me perform Vivaldi on my air Stradivarius.


Move to Jakarta once in your life.  Leave before you find it acceptable to go to music concerts of artists you don’t even normally listen to, just so you can post pictures of  you and your friends on Facebook the following day.


The next person most likely to stab you in the back?  Easy. The one who calls you “sister’”. And no, not in the familial sense of the word.


Wanna know what I hated about living all on my own?  Was it waking up to a lonely silence every morning?  Or was it being greeted by a dark and empty house when you come home in the evening?  Actually, no.  The worst part was opening your fridge every day and knowing exactly what was going to be in there. No surprises, ever.


Oh, except for that one time when I had a years-old jar of mayonnaise in the back of the fridge.   I think it waved at me.


If she says “he’s actually a nice guy if you get to know him better”, you can safely assume he is wealthy. And if he says “she’s actually quite smart but she just doesn’t show it”, you can safely assume she is hot.


Sure, it might be idiotic, but at least  I haven’t heard of buildings bombed or heads hacked off in the name of The Secret.  Have you?


When I go out on dates, I prefer low lit restaurants.  Why? It helps with my bald spot.


If I can teach The Little One how to find her own path to contentment as she grows up to be a young woman, and a version of peace of mind and happiness which is purely her own and not mine or as society defines it, then I would call it a day, pat myself on the back, and consider it a job well done.


And if you dare say “amiiiiiiin”, I swear I’m gonna….


Did you know that “Janet Hsieh” rhymes with “Tina Fey”?  Oh be-have.. Down, boy!


Oh, wanna know my current nickname for The Little One? Kupritus ‘Ndutski.  And no, she is not Polish.


Move to Bandung once in your life.  Leave before you find it cool to give your business an over-inflated name like “Mansion”, “Majesty”, “Opulence” or “Caesar’s Palace”.  And while you are at it, why not slap on an “euy” on the end of it?


Real men don’t drink lychee martinis.  Side effects may include loss of chest hair, low sperm count, or a career in fashion.


Do I take pride in the fact that you found it necessary to use Google at least once in the course of reading this blog entry?  You bet your ass I do.