saturday afternoon balloon bomb

I was sitting with my girlfriend in Starbucks Plaza Semanggi, browsing the free world of the internet with our new Macbooks, when suddenly we heard this loud bang.

Five meters from where we were sitting, four women giggled and pointed their at something on the floor.

Something green and limp. A balloon.

For a second there something in me screamed 'bomb!'. Why not? With Amrozi and his asshole gang members about to be executed any time, we've been getting SMS about how the Bali Bombers friends are planning an attack in Jakarta.

What a fucked up country.

And now we have to live with this moronic Pornography Law recently passed by the equally idiotic House of Representatives.

reinventing yourself 101: be brutally honest

Honesty is never an easy thing, especially when you have to apply it to yourself brutally. But what I've learned lately is that once you're able to do that, you'll see things in a totally different perspective and that things will have a way of working itself out.

The reason I moved out from IndoPacific Edelman to Maverick was to see whether I could refresh my interest in the industry. For the past few months I have come to realize that public relations consultancy is really not my thing. I could not picture myself doing this kind of job for the next one or two years.

Don't get me wrong. I loved 'meeting new people' (now an overused phrase like a 100-year old slut thanks to hordes of models, actresses and pageant queens reciting "I want to work as a PR person coz I luuuuuuuuvveeed meeting new people. Fuck them you would I guess), traveling to faraway places, and writing. I get this from working as a PR consultant. But I can also get this somewhere else for sure.

I would like to spend more time and concentrate on irisPUSTAKA that me and some of my friends have established since last year. This could not be done as a side job. It needs my full attention.

Which leads to the decision of resigning from the Associate position in Maverick, effective May 1, 2008.

I was actually planning to take a month or two before hunting for fresh grounds, but hey, Ong offered me a job as an Editor. A great package and suitable working hours (Mon-Fri, 6.30 - 10.30 AM), is all that I need to say yes. I will begin my editing days on June 1, 2008. That means a whole month of freedom.

I may have sucked at client servicing and consultancy, but I'm fucking good when it comes to writing and editing.

I'm broke, but I'm happy.

Another step forward to my vagabonding days.

About coffee

I am back again. Apparently the brainstorming hasn't started yet. Instead my two friends, the couple, are talking about coffee, Nescafe and such.

The boyfriend is having a side effect from some 'mineral' drink he had recently. The girlfriend is trying to find something.

I'm here typing sipping coffee. The one that she said was made from leftovers in factories.

Fantastically Full

I am now sitting in my friend's house, up in the attic (actually it's a small office on the second floor but I just like to call it an attic to make it sound more colorful), with a full stomach and a slowly-rewinding brain.

We were here to discuss about a job. To brainstorm some more after our initial one last Saturday.

But our sleepy eyes and bulging stomachs are enough proof that it's going take more than a lake of coffee to keep ourselves awake through the night.

I should be going now. I might come back and write here some more.

Oh, one more thing. Menadonesse Tinorangsak and sayur kangkung for dinner before a brainstorm is not really a fantastic idea.

 

Sunday, April 13, 2008. 8.37 PM. Anya's attic.

A Picture of Jesus

I was never a religious person.

I do believe in the whole Trinity concept, Father-Son-and-the-Holy-Spirit. But that's just about it. Ever since I was a child, I have questions about the concept of Heaven, which even now can make me unable to sleep.

I'm not afraid of the fires of hell. I'm only scared of being sent to oblivion. To have your soul no longer exist, in any form, in this universe, earth, heaven or hell.

I barely went to church last year, and have gone there only once this year, and that was on the Good Friday. I didn't even go to church in Easter. And forgot to sms my family happy Easter.

And this morning. Out of the blue. My brother gave me a small picture of Jesus. It now sat on my keyboard, half-resting on the monitor.

A picture of Jesus.

this morning

a very hot morning

cold water at 5 a.m.

a very hot morning

checking my bags

a very very hot morning

the sun is shining

a very hot morning

breakfast at my brother's house

it was very hot

this morning

sausages, rice, and crackers

suddenly thirty and slightly happy

a really, honestly, hot hot hot morning

a picture of jesus from my brother

what a hot morning

a word from my mom

simply a great morning

The West Wing's Neverland

How do you make sense out of your live? Or, of your job?

You see, we toiled for hours doing stuff that (admit it, people) most of us hate or would gladly avoid if we could afford it. How do we make ourselves keep on waking up in the morning and jump into that river of bodies in the streets of whatevers?

Money? Self-satisfactions? Self-improvements? Loneliness?

This question came up to me lately as more and more workloads arrived on my lap, depriving me from doing what I loved most. What am I doing here in this office? What kind of satisfaction, aside from financial or, perhaps, intellectual ones, I'm getting from spending 8 to 10 hours each day behind the monitor?

I remembered that I dealt with this problem differently from time to time.

My first job was at the Trijaya Radio as an intern. Back then in 1998, I know that I need to get past the job in order to graduate. Boredom and whatnots are just part of graduating.

Then followed the 9 months in Gran Mahakam Hotel as a Telephone Operator. The pay sucked, but I somehow believed that by starting my career as a grunt (telephone operators are one of the lowest in a hotel front office's career ladder). I was right. I got to know lots of people, great people. real people. I learn to appreciate all kinds of work. I matured. A bit.

After that I went to work in Indo Pacific as a Media Monitoring staff. The pay still suck, but at least I got to learn stuff about the PR industry, and got a free access to a great collection of local magazines.

Then I started to move up the ladder. Despite several setbacks (I had to prioritize my study in UI) and procrastinations, I finally become a full time staff (an Account Executive) and worked on real cases for 'real' clients.

The hours are long and the assignments challenging. During this time I barely have time to try to make sense of anything. Things were moving so fast. One moment I'm this ignorant brat who knows zero about the world, the next day I was 'advising' clients on this and that.

And then came the 'consultant' title. This was after months of island-hopping in East Nusa Tenggara and later in South/Southeast Sulawesi and Papua. Again, I got too busy absorbing stuff. No time to try to make sense out of my job. Let alone my life.

But after a while, things got 'routine'. The travels got too long, the people I met on the road got too annoying.

Strangely enough, during this time I discovered that one of the things that can make me refocus on work is to watch the West Wing series.

Why, you may asked. First, because the script was fucking awesome. Aaron Sorkin is simply a great scriptwriter. Second, because the story involved the White House Communications Director, Deputy Communications Director, and Press Secretary.

Note the 'communications' part.

The characters in the series are idealized images of what a professional political / communication operator could become. They brought to life what I can only gather in pieces from textbooks and blogs. What it means to be a real communicator. A true manipulator.

Thus, in those days I often crawled back to bed after a long day of dealing with clients and stakeholders (this word could really make me crawl out of my skin), in an ancient hotel room somewhere in Papua or Rote Island, fired up my laptop and tried to catch up with the next episode of Mr. Sorkin's creations.

Back then I used the series as a charging tool for my routinely decreasing spirit.

I just finished (again) the 1st session last night.

You see, lately, every time chances permit, I found myself glued to the screen again, following every move of President Jed Bartlett's senior staffs in saving the day for the U.S. of A.

Why now? Trying to make sense out of my work? Maybe. I resigned from my previous office because I got tired of public relations. I got into the one I'm in now because although it is still public relations, it provides more challenges and opportunities. And of course it gives a fucking awesome package.

I am happy. I got to learn new stuff. Meet new people. Brave new challenges.

But why oh why the shores of Neverland kept calling me? Again, and again. And again.

Am I really happy?