5 Things on My Dreamlist (Not Wishlist, Mind You, They’re Too Good To Be True): January 2010 Edition

Sooo, 2010 is coming up. Udah bukan coming up lagi malah, dia udah ngetok-ngetok di depan pintu nunggu dipersilakan buat masuk. Grawr. Sumpah, ga kerasa banget. Kayaknya baru kemaren deh tahun 2008! Baru kemaren banget tau saya jadi mahasiswa baru! Where does the time go??? As for me, it is scary because that means I’m going to get older. Not more mature, older. SYEREMMM.

(I am afraid of adulthood. Surprise, surprise.)

Anyway, di penghujung tahun ini saya memutuskan untuk bikin format postingan yang sebelumnya belum pernah saya coba. A Dreamlist. Yipeee *cue fanfare*.

Dreamlist ya, bukan Wishlist. Soalnya sampe lebaran kadal juga ga mungkin saya bisa beli salah satu diantaranya. Jadi ini cuma daftar buat, em, bikin ngiler-ngiler diri sendiri aja. Ga jelas emang. But whatever :P

This list contains 5 of the most mouthwatering things I came across over the internet this month. But hey, walaupun saya ga mungkin bisa beli, this could be an informative way for those of you who can (*SIRIK*). And here it goes:

1. 1. Wristband USB

This is a USB, saudara-saudara. A freakin’ awesome way to store your USB. Dikalungin mah udah ga jamaaan. Meet Wristband USB, flashdisk yang bisa Anda jadiin gelang buat ngegaya. Dammit. Pengen pisaaan. This awesome thing comes in six different colors: selain merah, kuning, sama biru diatas, ada juga hijau, oranye, dan ungu (GIVE ME THE RED ONE!). Jadi si USB port-nya itu kudu dililitin ke tangan biar bisa masuk ke penutupnya yang diujung satunya lagi itu. Sayang, harganya lumayan mahal, sekitar $14-an. Tapi worth it sih, soalnya ini juga shockproof dan sweatproof (kan tangan kita suka keringetan tuh. Eh, Anda doang deng saya mah nggak).

Click the link below for more information, or if you’re interested to buy (ME) one:

Wristband USB (via Oddee.com)

2.Brain-Loading T-Shirt

A seriously geeky T-Shirt! Perfect for moi! Apalagi tulisannya. You see, saya memang agak lemot dalam memproses informasi baru yang masuk ke otak saya (kecuali kalo itu gossip baru), so I need like, some minutes to understand. Apalagi kalo Anda diajarnya sama dosen saya yang pinternya amit-amit sampe saya pengen muntah. So I just gotta wear this shirt to his class, dan kalo dia nanya “Ngerti gak?”, saya tinggal nunjuk aja ke Brain-Loading T-Shirt ini sambil bilang, “Masih loading, Pak,” (dengan kalemnya).

...Walaupun itu sama sekali ga akan menjamin saya bisa dapet A (dapet C aja udah sukuran sapi guling, bener deh).

Ahem. Still, me want one. Lagian ini makin meng-establish identitas saya sebagai geek sejati (bukan yang SOK-SOKAN geeky ya, mentang-mentang sekarang geeky look lagi beken. Please. I was already a geek before it became cool).

Click the link below for more information, or if you’re interested to buy (ME) one:

Brain-Loading T-Shirt (via Oddee.com)

3. ASICS X STUDIOANTI AND WASHIO Sneakers

I DON’T CARE IF IT’S FOR BOYS ONLY! GIMME! It’s love at the first sight, guys. I just love the print. Lovelovelove.

Sneakers ini di-design StudioAnti joinan sama desainer Washio Tomoyuki. Thus, lahirlah nama ASICS X STUDIOANTI AND WASHIO. Print-nya bukan cuma asal print, lho. Ada cerita dibaliknya ternyata:

The cat story

According to Japanese folklore, the Jade Emperor held a race to determine which animals would represent each sign of the Asian zodiac calendar. Thirteen animals battled against each other to compete for the 12 places available. The cat finished last and didn’t get a place. The legendary zodiac race was the inspiration behind Onitsuka Tiger’s 2009 campaign. To find out more, go to onitsukatiger.com

Gyaaarh. Mau. Sayang harganya means saya harus nabung seumur hidup. Apalagi ini buat cowok. But, whyyyy? Kenapa barang-barang keren cuma di-desain buat cowok? The world is not fair. NOT FAIIIR. Excuse me while I go to that corner and be emo.

Click the link below for more information, or if you’re interested to buy (ME) one:

ASICS X STUDIOANTI AND WASHIO (via sneakerfreaker.com)

4. Recycled Mattress Tag Pillow Art

Tau kan label-label baju di kerah belakang yang suka bikin leher gatel? Atau kalo kita beli bantal baru suka ada labelnya nempel di ujung yang tulisannya nyuruh kita jangan nyopot dia? Designers in PiecesofYou.com turn it all into a very creative project: pillows which surfaces are made entirely out of label tags! Lucu banget deh. I especially fancy the first one shown above. Bakal bagus banget kalo dipajang di kamar. Er, wait,

*mengedarkan pandangan di kamar saya yang kecil, sumpek, dan madesu*

on the second thought, ga deng. Kebagusan ah buat kamar saya. Hehe. But I still want it anyway! Someday, maybe, when I have my own apartment. Ngarep.

Click the link below for more information, or if you’re interested to buy (ME) one:

Recycled Mattress Tag Pillow Art (via Dornob.com)

5. Orkin Design Rolltop

This, dude. This thing is the ULTIMATE geek fantasy.

Laptop yang bisa digulung. Or, the way they call it, a rolltop. DANG! HOW CAN IT GET ANY COOLER THAN THAT?!

If I were A FILTHY RICH KINDA geek, I would MOST DEFINITELY BUY ONE. Flatscreen-nya 17 inci pas lagi ga digulung, tapi bisa kita set jadi 13 inci kalo mau. Fleksibel lah. Selain itu, ini juga bisa touchscreen. GRMBLISME!

Imagine not having to carry your (heavy) laptop anymore everywhere you go. Not that I have a laptop, but still, saya tau gimana berat dan repotnya bawa-bawa laptop. Yang 14 inci punya bokap saya aja, tiap saya pinjem buat ke kampus langsung sukses bikin linu-linu badan. BERAT BANGEDS. Makanya suka males. Dan saya bingung kenapa sekarang saya jadi curhat. Ahem, anyway, pokoknya, you can never be too ‘ribet’ with this baby. Tinggal selempangin, beres. It would be like carrying a tennis bag, I guess. A really expensive, sophisticated, and technohippy tennis bag.

*drooling*

Click the link below for more information, or if you’re interested to buy (ME) one:

Orkin Design Laptop (via Oddee.com)

AAAAND, THE LIST HASN’T ENDED YET:

6. (BONUS!)

This one is for you, girls.

Say hello to Adam Young, the frontman of the musical-project Owl City. Buat yang belum tau, Owl City itu proyek tunggal-nya si mas Adam ini. He said he created this project as the result of insomnia while he was staying in his parents’ basement. HA! How sweet is he?

Mas Adam (not to be confused with Inul Daratista’s husband) udah sukses nelurin dua album independen sebelum akhirnya teken kontrak sama label rekaman resmi. Keluarlah album Ocean Eyes yang beken sepanjang akhir 2009 kemaren (kemaren! Can you believe I’m now using past tense?) Dia ngusung genre musik synthpop. His single, Fireflies jadi #1 di US Billboard Hot 100 and became the most downloaded song in iTunes! Dan emang enak sih musiknya. Suaranya agak mirip-mirip Benjamin Gibbons dari Death Cab For Cutie, but his music is more gentle and soft and... dreamy. Dreaaamy. I love that word, and I love the sensation it creates. Kalo saya boleh sok tau, it’s as if you’re enjoying a nice, smooth cup of hot strawberry milk with bits marshmallow and whipped cream thrown in.

Seriously.

I want that guy. I’d like to imprison him in my basement and force him to make music for me all night long. MWAHAHAHAHA.

(Now you see why I made this dreamlist, don’t you?)

Visit Owl City’s official website for more information (or if you have find a way to make the sentence above come true).

Wedding Invitations to DIE For

Believe it or not, this is a wedding invitations. A SUPERWICKEDLY AWESOME ONE AT THAT. It is original, unique, creative, and weelly sweet :3

I want one.

Someday, when I am married. I will need nothing sort of those cliched, boring, corny pre-wedding photoshoot if I have this.

...

And I should start by quickly finding a boyfriend first.
GAWD!


Click here for more information about it.

A creep wishing aloud.

I wish everybody were born with detachable heart with spares. So when it hurts, you just simply unplug it, and you won't feel a thing. And when it's broken, you just have to replace it with a new one.


I wish everybody had convertible faces. You just need to open your store cupboard and select which suits your mood the best for today. Or maybe the one that doesn't, but you still wear it anyway to fool those around you. You can even dispose it all you want. Simple and practical.


I wish everybody came to life with warning labels attached on their forehead. Like, CAUTION: AN INSUFFERABLE BITCH. DO NOT DISTURB. Or, KEEP AWAY. HE'S NOT GONNA ATTRACTED TO YOU ANYWAY, SO GET OVER IT, SWEETHEART. If so, people like me will be walking around with a sign saying FRAGILE. HANDLE WITH CARE.


I wish life were a computer application. You can pause, stop, or fast forward any moment to your will. When you make a mistake, Ctrl+Z will undo it all as if it never happened. You can edit or delete some things you no longer like to see. And you can always replay that time when you're being extremely happy...




(taken from my most recent Facebook note)

SPILLAGE SPILLAGE SPILLAGE SPILLAGE SPILLAGE

I am an empty shell. The ghost of my former self. I'm too tired to think, and too scared to feel.

I can't figure out what to say.

Touch me, and you'll know I'm hollow. Sometimes I wish I were a robot. Emotionless. Machine. I don't want to be me, but I don't know what I want to be anymore. What am I looking for in this life? What is my main purpose of living? I am so pseudo. I cannot find peace, comfort, serenity, I'm not even sure if I even have ever felt those things. How does it feel? Is it good? Is it better?

What am I? What am I to me? To anyone? Who am I? What is my place in this universe? What was I born to be?

I cannot understand myself. The world confuses me. I confuse myself even more.

Why do I exist? Because I don't feel like I do. I am not existing. If I were, I must mean something for someone, which I don't think I am. Am I? Do I mean anything to you, anything at all? I am not done being self-piteous, I don't know how to stop. I need a guidance, I need hands to hold me and carry me through, I need a heart to love and beloved, a person to define who I am.

I am being heartbroken everyday, even for the most little of things.

I can't handle the truth. I can't handle reality.

Crying doesn't help. It's not easy for me to cry. I am not a crier, I am a painer, I keep things, I am a masochist, or whatever you want to call me. I am a sick bastard, yes, maybe I am.

So what?

What's next?

Life is no fairytale.

Insecure is my middle name.
Along with desperate. Self-hatred. Envy. Jealousy. Other negative adjectives you can think of.

Please do not read this if all you want is to judge me or sneer at me or scold me or call me pathetic drama-queen or make rude remarks about it. That is not helping. Not helping at all.

Shut up.

Just, SHUT UP.

Midnight Call

I can't think of anything. - The Narrator, Fight Club

Haha.

Nggak sih, saya cuman ngerasa kasian aja sama blog ini. Jarang amat di-update-nya.

Males abis.

Maybe basically because I don't know what to share to the world. I am not share-y (is that even a word?). Saya terlihat kayak orang yang teramat extrovert, cenderung eksibisonis malah, tapi sebenarnya sih nggak. You may haven't noticed that I only share certain information strictly for certain people. I may be outspoken sometimes, but I only tell little insignificant details about unimportant things, NOT how I feel towards something. Ya kan? Raise your hand and say, Amen.

You might wonder where I am now.

Pertama, saya lagi ga ada di rumah. Kedua, ada orang lagi pacaran lewat telepon di deket saya. Ketiga, saya SIRIK setengah mati.

I will not elaborate the third statement because I don't want to bore you to death. Simply check my past posts if you're curious.


Hm.

I might post something more, er, well, postworthy, later. I dunno, random drabble poetry-thingy I guess.

Untuk sekarang, biarkan aja saya nunggu temen saya ini selesai pacaran (sambil nelen paitnya sirik yang menggunung. Nyeh nyoh.)

Saya mau juga dong ditelepon kayak gitu.
Minimal diSMS deh..


Hyuks.

PROXimity

I'd like to ask my brain why is it dysfunctioning itself whenever you're around the atmosphere, flapping you wings to block the sun or clouding the air with your ragged breathing.


Because the space between our souls is much needed in order for me to maintain my sanity and to prevent myself from hopping around happily singing your name at the top of my lungs.


Oh geez.


I was this close from doing it.


This proximity is dementing.


Your scent I can't get enough of. Your voice is the pulsing of my veins. Your presence is the life requirement and I need more, more, more,




MORE.





(taken from my most recent Facebook note)

ditutup.

me and you, pretending like nothing happens, you brushing it off like there is nothing going on between us, while in reality, I know you know better than that.
and I apologize for refusing to stop ranting about this because you have been part of my life and my brain for the last couple of years and it's a shame that you choose to ignore it and cover it up so the world can't see. maybe it's for the best, true, but maybe my desperate calls are just don't matter enough for you, I know that, and you can't deny it, no matter how hard you try to.

I wish you to read this.
but then again, don't.

crackhead for cracked.com

I have this linguistic paper homework, due tomorrow. I'm supposed to work on it since a week ago but ah what - the - hell. And now instead if doing my part I choose to browse this really awesome site. Endlessly.

I can't help it. It's so goddamn addictive. I can't believe I haven't found this site until recently. Where the heck have I been?
If only I had, I don't think I'd be such a piteous bastard when it comes to *coughlovecough* breakdowns. BECAUSE IT'S FREAKING FUNNY. Like, seriously, I feel it's a perfect web therapy for those people who loves exaggerating their life problems (like me) but still maintain a good sense of humor. And by good, I mean healthy. And by healthy, I mean don't mind to laugh at themselves even when the joke's at them - as it is indeed funny. You know, just by becoming a regular visitor to this site had awakened me to STOP TAKING LIFE TOO SERIOUSLY.

And by life, I mean - ah, nevermind.

One thing's for sure, this site has surely placed itself on top of my list.
Kudos for those guys who write for it.

(Which is the other way for me to say, "YOU GUYS ROCK!!!")



Dammit, I forget my homework.

Ah, how I wish it would sprang to life and start doing itself.

the pie that started everything

It was all started with a pie...

(Yes, it is yet another post about, uh, that guy. If you find it extremely boring kindly please leave before you puke all over your keyboard).

Yes, a pie. A chicken pie, to be exact.
No, not those that look like this,





which looks mouth-wateringly delicious, by the way, especially in this hour. But rather, the cheap, wannabe chicken pie that costs only IDR 2,500 that you can find in campus or school cafeterias.

Er, wait. Wrong picture.
But well, you get my point.

In a warm, sunny day (okay, this starting to be a little corny), he was sitting, eating that pie. He wasn't alone, far from it, really. We were in the middle of the crowd. And then I suddenly have this weird urge to hop near him (yes, I hopped, literally) and ask him, "Itu apaan sih?"

"Chicken pie."

"Beli di mana?"

"*beep*" (sorry, I have to censor that)

"Minta dong."

"Nih. Buat lu aja."

And he handed me the whole thing, had only taken one bite. Seriously. And I happily accepted. And it was nice. I said thank you, and that's it. I didn't have any feelings to him or whatever at that moment - we barely even talk to each other. But since he was THE MOST KIND-HEARTED BEING ALIVE he just had to give me, who wasn't even hungry. Only, you know, curious.

I knew it was nothing. It was merely an act of a friend - a too nice of a friend, I must say.

But I can't deny it; it sparked my curiosity.

And it took a series of more events until I finally fell for him.

But one thing's for sure; each day, every day ever since that day, I always went to buy the chicken pie for my breaktime snack.

And I came to be infatuated with it;

just like I do with the person who first gave it to me.

:)






(And yes, now we're calling each other with nicknames. Oh shut up)

emo-almost-gonnabe

People call me confident, but honestly, I don't think I am. I’m the most insecure person you could ever meet. Maybe I could even be one of those gothic-emo kids who like to slit their wrists in the dark corners if I wasn’t under these circumstances:

1. I’m terribly squeamish and cannot bear to see blood (and cannot see the point of cutting myself as well- I mean come on people, that's so OUCH)
2. I cannot afford any gothic-emo outfit or whatever you call it along with a decent eyeliner
3. I still believe in God.

But if I were in a different circumstances, different life, and different universe, basically, you would most likely find me smoking crack inside my dimly lit, gruesomely decorated bedroom, surrounded by my own pool of blood, lamenting about how unfair life is and how nobody ever loves me and how I just love to f*ck off and die.
Really. No joke.

You see, since I was in elementary school, I was already bullied by my whole class. Again, no joke. They thought I was a piece of shit (no, I'm not exaggerating, I actually heard them saying that). They threw my newly-bought comic into a puddle. They put my bag in garbage bin. They put trash in my bag. They tripped me when I walked to the front of the class. They called me terrible names (huh. familiar). They did almost everything you saw in typical American teenage-bullying movies, except we were only 11 at that moment.

And the same thing happened again, and again, and again when I went to Junior High. Three years of hellish torture.

I started to question what the hell is wrong with me.

Am I not deserve to live?

Actually, I have to thank God because things like gothic-emo-hatingyourselftodeath cult was still unfamiliar during my days in junior high, otherwise I was so gonna be their obedient follower.

So I got over that.
But maybe not fully.

Okay, I admit I sometimes still kinda emo-ey, but maybe not as pitifully angst-y as a real emo. I do still hate myself, sometimes, but not as much as they do either. And yes, I CAN'T stop complaining and comparing my life with others', but I still remember to feel grateful to everything I've been given - especially things I can feel proud of. And then again, whoever said they never do said things is a big fat hypocrite.

Looking back at my past life, and the one I'm living now, I can't say that I have wholly matured, nevertheless I realized I have evolved - I have changed, no matter how slightly, to be a better person. And for that I deserve myself a pat in the back.

Thus, I am not an emo.

Though I can't deny that I love the way they dress. I think they got style.

Do I want an emo boyfriend?
Ahahaha, no thanks. I think I already have enough insecurities for both of us.
;)

killing moon

See? I told you I'll be back.



"Those imaginary city lights seem to be mocking me as they're so sparkly and interesting while I'm so obtuse and boring.

The sky is pitch black, but the moon is plump, though still doesn't want to giveaway too much of its shine. The stars are nowhere to be seen. The air is chilly even indoor, and I need to wear a coat. Nevertheless, being freshly-bathed after two days helps more or less; and I write this with clots of anti-acne cream spreading all over my face.

The moon is round - have I mentioned that?
But it doesn't want to shine.


And I wonder how it feels like to fall to the endless blackness of this night sky.









Alone.

-

*soundtrack: Echo and the Bunnymen - Killing Moon
sunday 080209
@ 11:23pm
( I think I need more coffee )"



Taken directly from my most recent Facebook note. This is when my self-proclaimed artsy subconscious attacks.

why I DON'T like Twilight.

You like Twilight?
Hope not. 'Cause I don't.

Please, it's practically one of those crappy-ass , shallow teenlit (bleargh), only in English.

Now I have nothing against those who loves it, I just don't.

And if you're with me, check this really hilarious article about why we're still sane enough NOT to be soppily mesmerized by the vampire who's face is even prettier than most of us, duh.

again, another pointless post.

I can't believe it's the second of August already.

Days have passed since my last post without anything too significant. But then again, since when does my life become significant?
Ha-ha.

(I know, I heard you; I really NEED to stop being so emo-ey).

As you may have noticed, I rarely write about one exact topic; I'm a great babbler who could never hold on to a point without straying too much anywhere - and I end up talking about things that don't have any relations with it at all. This following sentences are perfect examples.

And I know you've been tremendously sick with 'the him' topic, but since it's my blog, I have every right to ask you to simply go screw yourself if you protested. Do not blame me for being the type 4 at Enneagram (if you have no idea what this is, click here).

Yeah, lately I don't really like to talk about how my days typically ended or my schoolmates or the hottest global topic there is - and I only will once I feel like it. And now I don't.

So I'm going to talk about him anyway.

Tee-hee.

He changed his appearance to match that of the girl he loves (let's call her 'Bombshell' from now on, as to avoid confusion and further troublesome typing), much to my, well, displeasure, for lack of better term. But hey, what can I do? I'm nothing to him and technically, he is nothing to me either.

It's just, remember when I said we'd make a hell of a couple?

It's such a shameeeee that he doesn't want that.
Graaaaaarrrgh.

Ye know, sometimes I REALLY want to scream:

because I KNOW HE DOES, he just thinks that I'M TOO GOOD FOR HIM, therefore HE DOESN'T DESERVE ME.

Gee, dude, WHO ARE YOU KIDDING?
So you're saying that the Bombshell who's obviously the perfect image of every boy's fantasy DOES DESERVE YOU?










Ugh.

But well, we can't interfere with feelings of the heart, no matter how those corny sinetrons tell you.










I'm having a headache - as a result of staring at the screen for almost ten hours nonstop, PLUS I haven't take a bath since yesterday. Believe me, you can squeeze the grease from my face to make a fried egg out of it.
Need coffee soon.





I'll be back,
when I have something else less dull to talk about.

culinary trip!

I know this might sound common to you, but last Tuesday night I had a really satisfying culinary trip with my guy best friend (not the one I had a fight with, mind you, but FYI we've made up now anyway :D). Bandung is packed with many deliciously enchanting cafes and restaurants, and I dined at FOUR of them in one night. Starting from 7 PM in Baso Kumis at Metro Trade Center, straight to Sagoo Kitchen at Jalan Riau, then to Bebek Garang at Jalan Hasanuddin, and lastly, the good ol' Roemah Nenek. I WAS BLOATED. And of course, my already over-bulging stomach expanded even more - I hardly fit in my jeans.

One thing I figured out from the trip is that

Deep Fried Calamari

+

Hot Raspberry Tea

Made an EXCELLENT late-night dinner. YUM!
I'm looking forward to another one like this, but still it depends entirely to the contents of my wallet. And, would I be willing to gain (another) ten pounds for this?

Well, if it's worth it, then why not? ;)

curhat dini hari

I finally have something to talk about!

And even that isn't as important as it sounds. For me it's an achievement anyway, considering I depend solely on mood whenever I write. That's why I might be one of the most unproductive writer in this planet you'd ever know - if I ever get one of my story published, that is. *crossing fingers for luck

As usual, it's always personal, and it's always about him. My, my, my, when do I ever get sick of it?
NEVER.
Well, not yet, at least. You can think of it as one of my ways to avoid getting chucked in jail for writing my complaints about public facilities - yes, people do that in Indonesia, strangely enough.

So, what (else) is up about him? Plenty, actually.
To be frank, he's one of the factor why I don't feel like writing yesterday - among other. His habit of NOT replying my text got on my nerves (like, always) and I ended up smashing my cellphone to the wall (and it's not for the first time, mind you. Poor Ronald, I know, but don't worry, he's used to it xP). But today he FINALLY did text me, and using my oh-so-subtle manipulation, I managed to make him apologize and feel guilty about it (HA!). Our conversations lasted for five or six more texts until he finally gave me his speciality of grand finale: saying simple yet touching things. And GOD, do I hate him for it. Especially because it marked the end of the conversation, and I know he would refuse replying any more of my messages.



HE IS SO HARD TO READ.




It burns my heart wherever I think of the impossibilities of us being together. It's just can't be. And whenever I see the girl he loves (she happens to be in my Facebook friend list, with her ohsostunninglyPERFECT profile picture) , it feels like spreading salt on top of an open wound. HURTS LIKE THE BOTTOM LEVEL OF HELL.



Yet I just can't stop hoping for him.



It's just, wouldn't it be nice if we could be together? 'Cause I have imagined it once, or twice - alright, maybe a hundred times before and trust me, I believe we would make one a hell of a couple,



if only.







. . .






On his last text for tonight, he said,

"You always deserve the best of things, Zee."

And I know what he meant.
He once said to me that I'm too good for him.
That I deserve better than just a useless being like him.


Which made me sad, because that's so not true. Maybe he only meant that just so it wouldn't hurt as much. Or maybe he was honest. Either way, the pain's the same.


Hurts like hell.
Hurts like hell.
Hurts like hell.
Hurts like...