Girls of My Life... So Far

Let’s see… well maybe I do live in save haven. My parents are great, my brother is sweet, my home is warm. We are comfortable middle class, we are never short of basic needs and even can taste a bit of higher class frills without the common complexity of super-rich families. I come from the majority ethnic group, racism is never an issue. I’m minority in religion but so thankfully I live among these tolerant neighbors and friends. My childhood was immaculate, I did great at school, friends and teachers loved me. My teen years were colorful but generally exciting. My college years were great. And I’m undergoing a promising professional life now.

Therefore I would like to thank you, girls of my life. My exes and all of you who ever crossed path with me in the romantic side. Thank you for really put a balance to my life, put the bitterness intertwined with the sweetness. Thank you for teaching me how to cope with betrayal, loss, and ridicule. Thank you for pointing me my room of improvements. There were moments when I hated the challenging lesson of life you had given, but now I really realize how my every drop of tears does nothing but growing me to a better person each time.

If I can choose, I definitely want to pass this pain with the lesson. But learning process is always painful, it’s an investment of time, money, and peace of mind. I guess only through it I can really learn. About perseverance, faith, hope, and finally, love.

Therefore, again, thank you, girls, thank you. No sarcasm here, no irony. I’m humbly thanking you all. My personal growth was with you, all of it were treasuring for me.

Happy new year, wish you all love, wish you all happiness.

Story of a Clam

In a beautiful seabed by a secluded small tropical island, live these two clams. They are pearls clams, the type of clams who can produce pearls. They are talking to each other.

“Uh why don’t I feel good today, the inside of my body itches badly, like some sharp piece tearing me from inside,” says of the clam.
“Oh,” the other clam looks at her friend sympathetically. “It’s a grain of sand, it enters your body and nested in your softest inner part.”
“I don’t like it! It hurts me! How can I get rid of it?” cries the pained clam
“You can’t, it will stay with you for a very long time,” answered her friend.

The clam with the grain of sand inside her cries loudly. The sand really hurts her, it sits indeed in her softest inner part. Anything she does to expel it just makes it grazes deeper into her tissue. After a couple of days trying, she gives up. She learns, painfully, to try to accept the grain of sand inside her. She cries many nights for the pain it causes her. But after a while she surprised that she has grown used to it. It still there, she can feel it, but it hurts less and less. Until one morning she wakes up and realizes the grain of sand has become a part of her. And somehow the pain makes her stronger, she experiences other pains after the sand grain incident, but they don’t bother her too much anymore, she had experienced the toughest with the sand grain.

A couple of years later, the clam is pulled out of water. She’s opened, and they find a very beautiful pearl inside her. It’s big, shiny, and have the purest white. People are mesmerized by its beauty. They bring it to the king, and the king loves it so much, he decides to put it in his most honored regalia. And so the pearl becomes most regarded piece of jewel in the entire kingdom, and it is descended to generations of kings and queens for many many centuries. The clam herself gets as the same honor, she’s placed amongst the kingdom’s most treasured ornaments in the palace, where a lot of people present their honor to the clam which produce the most beautiful pearl.

The clam had pained yet endured and then ultimately rewarded for it. Sometimes when a grain of sand enter our softest part and pains us a lot, let’s try to endure and make the best of it. Sometimes it is necessary to pain, who knows, your grain of sand is on their way to become the most beautiful pearl inside you.

Let’s all think happy thoughts today! :)

Indonesia, Land of Contrast

This morning I was flabbergasted. I was reading on Indonesia’s prime national newspaper, in their stripping continuing story. First, it was a lesbian story. Second, today it articulated an explicit kissing act between women. It means it will be read by no less than three million Indonesians.

If you’re not familiar yet with Indonesian people psychographics, here’s a quick look. Indonesia is by far one of the countries with the most populated religion devotee and practitioners. Indonesian people are so into family, both nuclear and extended. Ethnic group bonding is also strong. People are timid, not expressive, and love to conform. For short, this is where traditional values are implemented at their best.

And then try to explain these events happened in Indonesia:

• Never a homosexual person hazed for his/her homosexuality
• When a homosexual couple walks holding hands, people politely try not to look, then only softly chuckling on them after the couple walks out of hearing distance
• Lesbian girls can go away with their public display affection since girls do over each other here, we Indonesian girls touch other girls a lot, with or without certain intentions
• Transvestites are regarded as good entertainer, their manner of speaking is copied as the cool people manner of speaking, their constant appearance in national TV comedy shows is highly in demand
• A lesbian story with overt women-to-women kissing act goes to three million pair of eyes to read and (so far) no one protest.

All I can say is, although we Indonesians are largely traditionalists, we tolerate oddities, as long as it is enjoyable to watch. Yeah we know how to have fun!

And with all these, as a lesbian, I can’t ask for more :)

99 Coins of Gold

Once upon a time, there was this very rich king. He was so rich he could buy anything under the sun. And he lived his life doing so, spending anything to his liking. Yet, he always felt he was still missing something. He often stared out the window, under his gold-and-diamond-made-of dome, just feeling empty inside. Then one the king saw one of his servant, the servant was doing some cleaning. He whistled and hummed so happily, his face was so elated. The king was intrigued, than asked the servant what made him looked so happily fulfilled. The servant answered,

"I have everything. I'm healthy, I have a very good job, I have enough money to bring home, I have a small but nice house, I have a beautiful wife who loves me, I have two wonderful daughters who love me as much. That's why I'm so happy".

The king was amused with the answer. Then the king went to see his chancellor. He said,

"One of my servants seems to be so very happy. I wonder what can make him loose the feeling."

His chancellor said, "Your majesty, tonight, put a sack filled with 99 pieces of gold coins in front of his house. Then tomorrow morning you will see his happiness fade away."

The king was bewildered, but his chancellor asked him to just do so. So the king followed the advice, and at night he put a sack filled with 99 pieces of gold coins in front of his servant house. Morning came, and the servant's family found the sack, and they were thrilled to found those glittering coins inside. Then they counted them. But soon they were shouting to each other,

"Hey where's one more coin? There must be 100 coins in it, why there are only 99 of them? Wife, where's the one coin?"

"I don't know, it must be you who lost it!"

"No I don't. Well woman, you must be the one who slipped it somewhere!"

"Well I didn't, it must be you, you're getting old and less aware, husband!"

"No I don't! It was you, all women are the same, incapable and useless! Maybe it's your two daughters who lost it!"

"We didn't loose it father! And don't speak to mom like that!"

"Why you two..."

And they were bickering and bickering bitterly all morning while arduously tried to find the one lost coin, to no avail. Then the servant had to go to the palace to work. And out of custom he did his chores with fuming face, no happy whistling and humming. The king noticed this and asked him,

"Why are you looking so unhappy today?"

"Your majesty," the servant sighed, "this morning I found a sack filled with gold coins in front of my house. It should be 100 pieces of them, but my stupid wife and daughter must loose one of them, so there were only 99 left. Uh you just can't trust women, they are sooo unreliable, lazy, and ..." and he went on nitpicking his family. The king listened to him, and suddenly he knew his question had been answered. The king went to see his chancellor. He said to him,

"Yes finally I know what caused this feeling like missing something, this constant emptiness in my heart. It was the attitude of being ungrateful of what I have, and busily searching for the things which are actually never meant for me. It's like my servant who busily searching for the nonexistent coin and abandoning other precious things he has, it is ripping all the joy that already inside him. So from now on I will be all grateful and enjoying everything I have, and stop worrying about things which actually never there, never meant for me."

Remember Me

Feels like a million years ago, don’t you think? The open wounds have closed, the bitter aftertaste long subsided. Now your color, our color, emerge just so slowly, into my eyelids again. Your blue sky, white and red hibiscus. White stripped planes, yellowish airport sign. Blackened night sea with its waves touching the shore. Dark blue, light blue, red mini SUV. Moss green bottle of olive liquid soap. Dark brown, brown, and the lightest brown of your eyes.

Stripping down my clothes of consciousness. This once, only this once, I surrender.

Remember me, Baby. Please remember me.

Dearest Buddy

These days in my office there’s this ubiquitous email in our inbox, subjected Can A Man and A Woman be Friends Only. Been a lively chat, and up to this morning, the court is adjourned to the decision of: no, a man and a woman cannot be just friends, they will reach this point where the will fall romantically to each other, or at least one of them to the other. With a little disclaimer: possible under the sole circumstance as to one of or both the party is/are gay. People in my office solemnly abide by the decree. But two persons. My buddy Andrian and I.

Andrian is one of the finest guys left on Earth. He’s a real gentleman inside and out. He’s happily married. We share the fondness of a lot of things: foods, books, comics, cartoon flicks, movies, witty jokes on people around us and each other. It’s comfortable around him, I can tell about my achievements without him feeling outshined because he shines himself, I can tell him about my mistakes without him being judgmental because he humbly comprehends he makes mistakes too. We can do silly things we don’t normally do when people around and never fail to have good laugh on it. And with all the promiscuity in the air of the maledom realm, he is genuinely cool with it. We enjoy a really simple sexless relationship, being friends in through our souls. And he’s not gay, and I’m a bisexual. Of course, I avoid excessive touching, since I’m bisexual, a very fine gentleman can still make me fall, better prevent than regret later. So in this principle of no pure platonic friendship between a man and a woman, we are, I guess, living legends of an exception.

Yesterday, Andrian and I sat together in a pizza chain near our office, we had our lunch. Some people had trespassed me, and I was bitching up on them, and Aldo, as usual, endure it. Suddenly I stopped, a ray of consciousness slipped into my head.
“Oh I’m so bitter…” I gasped. I hold my head with both hands. “Oh I have become a bitter person, oh my goodness..!” I look at Andrian, perplexed.
“A little bit, you are always,” Andrian smiled mysteriously. I open my mouth involuntarily. “It’s part of who you are, being wittily subtle sarcasm,” he chuckled softly. I’m speechless. He looked at me, he grinned, his little eyes left as lines only.
“Is it so… oh I’m sorry…” I said after gaining my composure. “It must be not too pleasurable for you to be with me all the time…” I said meekly.
“Don’t be sorry,” his eyes soften. “I told you, it is part of who you are.”
“But why are you still here with me?”
“Because I have chosen to be your friend. I’m a friend for the good you, and just as much a friend for the less good you.”
I almost cry. That is simply the sweetest thing. It doesn’t come from a lover by candlelit in a fancy restaurant or after being given a thirty-five carat diamond ring or in a post-orgasm delirium. I looked at him and weakly whispered a thank-you. He smiled.
“We are no angels, Nat. We are flesh and blood, we have feelings. If people do us wrong, it is okay to be angry. The most important is, after a while we can manage it to subside and leave it behind. Forgiving people. Forgiving ourselves,” he looked at me fondly. “And I will be with you through that while. Promise.”
I just can weakly whisper a thank-you again.
“Well,” Andrian grinned. “You will always be my Little Miss Sarcasm…” then he laughed at me frowning and sticking out my tongue to him.

If you have to loose everything and can only keep one thing, ask for your best friend to stay. It would be enough.

Lesbian Dating Chronicle

After I broke up with my girlfriend at the end of 2005, I went to this series of dating to find a potential new partner. I have no idea how this will take me to this roller-coaster-like ride of my life, so very life-enriching, so very eye-opening. Although the characters are all real, flesh and blood real, the names are made ups. Hope you will enjoy it as much as I do :)

Regine – A Moving Picture Says a Million Words

Well actually Regine is the start-flag waver, the one sending me to this crazy, exciting, earth-shattering journey, haha. She is the pioneer, she is the first answered my personal ad. We email each other like seven or eight times before we decide to send each other some text messages and then phone calls. And then we decide to meet. It’s on January 2, still in lethargic new year mood. We meet in Starbucks in Setiabudi Building in Kuningan area. She’s light-skinned as a Manadonese girl should be. A little chubby but cute. She’s a movie director, pretty cool. She directed tv movies that in Bahasa we call it “sinetron”. This sinetrons is very Bollywood-y, with overly dramatic plots and verrry slow-paced scenes. Well, I thought, who knows maybe Regine will tell me all the juicy stuff on this sinetron world, with its, mostly, kinky actor and actresses, ah it would be fun. And so we’re sitting together, enjoying our coffee. Regine is a little quiet. Well ok, I thought, maybe she’s just shy. So we start the conversation with light things and overall enjoy our coffee quietly. Ten minutes later… we’re still enjoying our coffee… quietly. Another ten minutes is passing… we’re still enjoying our coffee… quietly. I never really too comfortable with awkward quiet moments, so I start to tell her stories, mostly on hilarious things, I feel like jokes are the best ice breaker. She laughed at the stories and enjoying her coffee… quietly. After an hour or so being a sitting down-stand up comedian, I’m tired. She’s a good listener, really, and she’s so good at it that it’s all she’s doing. Ow, I thought, where are my celebrity gossips I expect to hear from her? Or anything about her? Finally at one point, she’s looking at me, about to say something. I wait excitedly, oh here it comes my celebrity gossips yahaha! But after a few minutes she lowers her eyes and enjoying her coffee again… quietly. Just when I about to deflate, she lifts her head, eyes gleaming.
“You sit like that, continue talking by moving your hands animatedly like that, the camera pans in a medium shot, in walking pace from outside this glass window, first capture your mimic and then moves in and gets you talking. Medium lighting, airy ambient scene,” Regine beams on me.

I’m enthralled.

Despite being not talking, Regine is cool. Maybe as a movie director she’s used to speak by creating moving pictures, she’s no longer keen on speaking verbally. Well that will do, I smile silently. I make this mental note to immediately watch a sinetron and observe its credit title to find Regine’s name. Only by being a Movie Director, you can be cool without much talking.

Thandie – I am Judgmental, Therefore I am

I never met a real life feminist before, and get the treasured chance when I meet Thandie. I hate people who stereotype feminist as sodding sad old lady with fashion sense of the years of World War II and frizzy hair. But unfortunately, Thandie is slightly in the stereotype.
“Men are the roots of all misfortune of women,” her fiery eyes drill into me. I quiver. “I’m glad to meet another sister, who share this issue with me,” Thandie nods at me grandly. I flinch.
“Errr… I believe there are men who are really evil, but some of them are real fine people too,” I say cautiously. Thandie glares at me. I feel like sitting in front of my high school principal office after getting caught up jumping the school fence for a freedom from a math class.
“Don’t tell me you are bisexual,” she says, sneering. “Bisexuality is gross,” her nose wrinkles to the word. And that’s it for me. I politely excuse myself, I don’t want to spoil another minute of my precious weekend in this negative air around her. I rush to a coffeeshop where my buddies are, feel like hugging those fine people one by one, and thank heaven that they are men and women.

LeAnn – Secret Lover

I work in an advertising agency, says LeAnn. Yippeee! Nothing’s better than an ad person being gay, remembering the vivacious ambience and out-of-the-box thinking credo of that particularly “sexy” industry. So with high hopes I meet LeAnn in a lazy Sunday afternoon. She’s thin, fashionable, chain-smoking, as I expect an ad person should be. She’s Singaporean but doing her business here in Jakarta. We start to talk and it’s pretty smooth. Then suddenly there’s this another girl comes to our table and sits with us. I look at that new girl perplexedly.
“This is Carmine,” says LeAnn.
My face must shout this: and who’s on earth are you Carmine, this Carmine girl quickly add,
“I’m LeAnn’s girlfriend,” she says.
I’m taken aback. LeAnn never tells she has a girlfriend. And she never tells me she will bring her girlfriend along to meet me. I have no problem with that, but there are certain days and occasions when I don’t like surprises. My mood flattens but I try not to show it. Three of us talking, and it doesn’t take long before Carmine looks uncomfortable. She goes somewhere and back, several times. I’m getting disturbed with this. I talk to LeAnn more since Carmine is frowning and not talking much. And after a while, knowingly, I excuse myself. Too bad, since I like talking with LeAnn, but I really can’t bear with her “pop-up”, frowning girlfriend. I actually want to ask Carmine why she lets her girlfriend meeting other people when she knows she will not be comfortable with it. But I don’t bother to do that, I choose to leave that enigmatic couple and go joyriding in smooth Sunday afternoon Jakarta traffic. Better this way.

Fraulein D – Good Things Come in Tall Packages

Sunny bright, that’s how you explain about Fraulein D. Although her skin is very fair like common Caucasian girl, but she radiates, maybe one of it is because she’s so tall. I call her Miss Healthy, she does all the things: eating healthy food, aerobic classes, yoga, pilates, face treatment, manicure, pedicure. I first meet her when I was still mourning after my breakup with my girlfriend number three. Fraulein D bears with me through the period, and I don’t want to disappoint her, so I push myself to leave all the bitterness, at least when she’s around. We have good times, she shares her exciting stories from her travels and people she meets around the world. She talks to me a lot about things, especially on seeing life in the lighter side. She can be serious but she’s really the life of a dance floor too. Whenever she comes back from a travel she will always brings me unique small gifts, and one of them is a cute crystal blowfish. The first time I thought it was a sea urchin but after I consult my marine biologist friend (yes it takes a certified marine biologist to identify that enigmatic crystal sea creature Fraulein D has lovingly given me), it’s positive a blowfish, haha.

There is this period when Fraulein D needs to go abroad for quite some time, and when we see each other again, she looks at me proudly.
“You look so happy! You must be over your ex already,” she says to me with big smile. She’s right.

Fraulein D has left Indonesia for quite some times already, and I miss her every now and then. Often we email, delightful short emails which shows that we keep each other in our mind. We may never attracted to each other romantically, but I really miss a good friend in her. She’s globetrotting now. I hope one day I can have a good laugh with her again in a comfy corner somewhere of this world.

Patricia – Straight Girls Cut the Crap

I found Patricia when I mindlessly surfing the Friendster. She’s a single 30 year old and, guess what, likes the movie Kissing Jessica Stein. Although in her profile it says she wants to date men, I thought back then, well, she must be at least a curious one. And she writes her profile with fluency, I like people who appreciate words. And she looks cute on her pictures, what a bonus, haha. I emailed her, introducing myself. And she replied me warmly. And so on and so forth, and finally we meet each other. It’s nice talking to her, we’re getting close easily. But I still don’t know if she’s gay or not, so I begin to probe on her gayness possibility. Fortunately she works in lifestyle media and really open-minded, so we can carry sensitive things easily.
“How’s your love life, Pat?” I ask.
“Crap, haven’t got a boyfriend since I broke up last year,” she said.
Uh, boyfriend? But I still keep my hope.
“Maybe you should try girls,” I say, smiling mischievously.
“Oh no no, I like d*ck too much, a woman will never satisfies me,” answers chirpy, honest Pat. We laugh, she has funny laugh but I have sour laugh. Pat is straight. And a couple days later, Pat calls me and tells me she finds a nice Caucasian guy. And they are getting close, but then I heard they broke up. Ah, I thought, maybe now I can lure her to this exciting lesbian world. So I call her.
“Hey Pat,” I say.
“Hey you, love to hear from you,” says chirpy Pat. My hope shoots.
“Wanna go grab some coffee?” I asked.
“Hey would love to! Let’s go to Lara Djonggrang tonight, my friend has set me up with this really nice guy, let’s meet him there, he’s going to bring his friend, I will set him up with you!” says chirpy Pat.
My hope shoots down. Pat is straight. Straight girls really cut the crap.

Inez – Déjà Vu, She Says

Inez gazes at my face, eyes narrowing. I smile awkwardly, shifting my legs uncomfortably.
“I’m serious, have we met before? You look familiar, or at least look like someone I know,” says her.
“You are the one thousand seven hundred eighteenth person saying that I look like someone else,” I reply. “I have this very typical face,” I grin rather nervously. Inez doesn’t seem to buy it. Then she cites her high school, asking me whether it’s my high school too. I meekly say yes. Then she name names, her high school friends, asking me whether I know any of them. Unfortunately I know some of them and reluctantly admit it. Inez smiles triumphantly, I know it she says. Apparently we went to the same high school but fortunately for me, never in a same clique. She’s so keen of getting to know me and asking for my real name. I politely tell her that I am so much in the closet and have no plan of coming out anytime soon. So telling her my name while she knows so much about my circle of friends is a bit frightening idea.
“Not that I don’t trust you, but the slip of tongue do occur, for whatever unconscious psychopathologic seeds inside the mind,” I gabble in my feeble attempt to cite Freud. Inez, being a psychologist and a Freudian, beams at my wishy washy. She gets the point, and we spend the rest of the evening talking and laughing, my true identity is safely kept.
Two weeks later…

Bao Yu – What Comes Around Goes Around

I meet Bao Yu in Sushi Tei. It really amuses me, so many lesbians get-together occur in sushi bars. I’m tempted to declare “Sushi, the Food of Lesbian Nation”, haha. One of my friends once wondering why, mischievously I say maybe us lesbians are used to the taste. I could be right :)
And so I had a hefty lunch with Bao Yu, a fond moment, sushi at all times unfailingly alleviates my mood, and Bao Yu makes a good company. And we are waiting for her friend, she wants to introduce me to her friend, she says I would like her, she’s such a nice person.
“Ah there she is!” exclaims Bao Yu. “Nat, meet my friend, Ine…”
“Inez! What a nice surprise!” I greet and give Inez a big hug. We laugh on Bao Yu’s baffled face, and then explain to her everything.

It’s a nice evening, with my two of favorite things, good friends and fresh sushi. But on the downside, it’s telling me too that this is a small small world. Not so joyful fact if you try to find a new potential partner. At least the food is always good here, I smile to myself while munching lovingly on my shitake kushiyaki. Yum.

Nicole – I am Availably Unavailable

Beware, I’m a very fluent flirt. That’s one of the Nicole’s earliest sms to me. Pretty intriguing. Actually, many things about her is intriguing. Maybe that’s one of the factors that makes her attractive, and one other factor is: sexiness. She’s not traditionally pretty but she really understand how to present herself sexily. She’s a woman of all trade. She has been here and there, she has done this and that. I’m a lot younger than her, I don’t see the world as much as she has yet, therefore I just can look in awe at her juggling on many things in her life. In the first days I know her I’m attracted to her and about to begin my move.
“Are you available?” I ask.
“I will be,” she answers.
“Are you in a commitment right now?” I ask this since I’m very aware with limits, I never want to cross on the lines I don’t suppose to cross.
“I will make myself available,” she answers.
I’m confused, but I still try. But then all about her seems to be diluted from my life. I still try to recall what has going on, but all must be so trivial I can no longer remember. But one thing that she might not knowing, that I might know about her a little more than she may realize.

Well Nicole, you have been here and there, you have done this and that. Amazing how in this small small world you can easily gain celebrity status.

Saras – Can I do Your Hair, Miss?

I stare on Saras, mesmerized. Is that the newest trend in hairstyling? People with maroon hair, burgundy hair, electric blue hair, shocking pink hair, glittery avocado green hair, I can relate. But erratic silvery-black hair? Oh it’s not a highlight, my mistake. It is gray hair. How old is she again? I try to recollect. She said she’s thirty-ish. Ow. Having a majority gray hair in your thirties is a bit premature I suppose. Maybe she personally likes having gray hair, people say you will look wiser with gray hair. Well it’s personal style, I thought. And maybe she likes it messy. Or at will, should I say. Because I’ve been suppressing this urge to get a comb and tidy it. I never see hair that disarray since I saw one of my super curly-haired friend get off a bus and blown by a hard Melbourne wind until he was about to fly off. Took him three hours to get his hair ordered. And Saras’s hair is about as messy. And why she doesn’t iron her shirt and pants? Or maybe it’s the latest organza fabric that suppose to look disheveled. I doubt it though.

I can be Shallow Nat sometimes. Or maybe more often than I want to be, I’m not proud of it. But some people can really have very “personal” style, so “personal” it fails me. So Saras, I really want to say to her, can I do your hair and get your clothes done? And why I can be so keen on her fashion faux pas, it’s because she has been on the phone for fifteen minutes or so, since we first shake hands. Be it she stops her phone call and talking to me appropriately, I may not that bitchy on her looks. But she gives me all the ammo by letting me stare at her. After waiting for couple more minutes listening to her chatting to her cell fervently, I excuse myself. She looks at me blankly but I just point at my watch and mumbling something about a sudden meeting I need to attend. At 08.00 p.m. Go figure. As I walk away, I see a very cute, wooden comb in a cosmetic stand. I smiled and silently wish Saras would see that comb too and buy it and decide to do a good use of it.

Anindhita – The Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking

“I’m a butch trapped in a femme’s body”, says Anindhita, puffing her clove cigarettes, slight smile in her thin lips. Okay, I brace myself, remember Nat, this is a wacky wacky world. I gaze at Anindhita’s golden eyeshadow, pink blush, nude fuchsia lipstick, white frills blouse, low skinny jeans, and cute peep-toe pumps.
“What makes you come into that decision?” I ask her.
“Well,” another enigmatic smile from her. “If I’m with a woman, I feel like I’m the dominating one, protectionist one, benefactor one. Isn’t that the real description of a butch, in a sense of her seeing her role toward her partner, namely the femme, as her counterpart? It’s not always the flannel shirt, the baggy pants, the cropped hair. It’s the psyche that makes the person, and all my entire consciousness tells me I’m a butch, despite my pumps that you keep staring at over five minutes or so,” Anindhita’s face blurred behind her cigarette smoke. I throw my head back. Trying to digest her statement, I have exactly the same feeling when some times ago I mindlessly tried to read The Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. She looks at my puzzled face and laughs.

Anindhita lives in her own world. She’s the girl who keeps silent and smiles to herself and drowned to her own thoughts in a mass of chatty friends get-together. I feel myself as a complicated person, but she’s even more complicated. I don’t suggest anyone try to understand her thinking, you will get lost. And indeed a very attractive girl, physically. Lean and toned from her being a gym die hard. Dangerous eyes, she can turn you on only by looking, left you throw your gaze from her embarrassedly. And deep sultry voice. After our first meeting I spend another evening with her, we talked for hours until dawn. We shared our hopes and dreams. I caress her head, we hugs, we kiss each other on the cheek. One perfect night. And I don’t want to spoil the memory by having another. Because more than one perfect night you spend with enigmatic, incredibly sexy, implausible Anindhita, will be too much for you. Trust me.

Diandari – Which One is the Girl for Me?

Diandari says she has a girlfriend, so she wants to introduce me to her single and looking friend, Kiki. And in a humid evening I meet Diandari, her girlfriend Leah, and Kiki. Please try a little bit more focus here, because it will be rather confusing. As premeditated, I put my attention more to Kiki, because I make it clear that I’m single and looking and so is Kiki, according to Diandari. But what do you know, all night long Kiki clings fondly to Leah, they are practically over each other. And it’s Diandari who keeps me company and talking to me keenly. The evening goes and it’s time for us to go home. Kiki shakes my hand. Leah shakes my hand. Diandari shakes my hand, and pull me for a peck on my cheek and it lingers a second longer than it should be. And an hour later Diandari text messages me telling me she has a good time and would like to have another with me sometime soon. I read the message amused and laugh.

Until now I don’t know exactly what happened, who is with who, or whether Diandari is the real Diandari or maybe she’s Kiki or maybe Kiki is Leah or Leah is Diandari. But whatever it is and whoever they are, it was a good show and I surreptitiously enjoying it, haha.

Elle – We Talk About Flowers

Elle lives in Shanghai. I met her when I was having a conference there. You will love Elle the first time you see her. Her skin is a little bit darker than common Chinese girls but it gives her a healthy look. She’s lean and lanky and has the flattest abs. But it’s her eyes. She has a pair of big almond shaped eyes. Eyes that millions of girls will willingly spend much and suffer a lot in a plastic surgery table to get. She will lower her head a bit and look up at you shyly, ah she’s irresistible when she does that. She graduates from a fashion school, justifies her good taste in clothes. I love how her pants or miniskirt hanging on her hips, and how she walks featherweightly. She’s treating me well. She brings me to her house, she introduces me to her friends and sister, she takes me to parties, we have good food, we go places, she gives me the best five nights of a dull Shanghai conference could turn out to be. But then this is something she says that get all my senses: we’re in bed, just recovering from an intimate moment when she rolls over and look me at the eyes.
“Flowers,” she says.
“Flowers?” I say.
“Yes, flowers,” she says. “Flowers are pretty, I think just a little things on earth are more beautiful than flowers,” she says. “But they died so soon, they bloom beautifully today and the next day they’re dying, and the next day they are gone,” she says quietly. Then she closes her eyes and snuggles on me. A big bell suddenly clangs in my head.
“What are you talking about, Elle,” I ask. “Are you saying we are doing this in the ‘flowers’ way?” I ask. Though not wanting to know the answer. Elle snuggles on me, holding me tight.
“I’m yours,” Elle says.
“Yes you are,” I say to myself. For tonight.

Elle is a very nice girl that you will love to be your girlfriend. But we live in totally different world. And we don’t do long distance. After I’m back home we have tried but it doesn’t work. But I keep her in my heart.

Joe – Boy(ish Girls) don’t Cry

The first time I don’t know why Joe is so often placing her palm over her nose, her palm flat, left and right hands fingers meet. It was pretty dark, the place we meet, I can’t really see her face. A couple of minutes later there’s this answer to my curiosity.
“I really miss her… I’m all void… I can’t bear this anymore…” Joe squeaks meekly. Joe is toned and sturdy. Wears manly shirt and a pair of nice Birkenstock. Hair is cropped and neatly waxed and combed. Strong jawline. And now she’s closing her face with her hands, shoulders up and down. Golly, I say to myself, she’s crying. Nothing’s wrong with crying, as a matter of fact crying is a very healthy release for the broken-hearted. But seeing manly Joe crying is really astounding. And not mentioning it’s on public.
“Why she must leave me… why… I’ve done so much for her..!” Joe whined louder in between teary sniffs. People start to look us, puzzled. They’re looking at me accusingly, they must be thinking what this girl has done to her unfortunate boyfriend. I suppress a sinful desire to laugh. But I don’t, instead I lean and hold her hand. Joe continues sobbing.

I once read that the grief from separating from your partner is even greater than the pain of having one of your closest relative died. So I completely understand why sturdy Joe is having a breakdown. But I personally also think that if you are grieving, do it gracefully. Show the world that you are okay, save your tears and the much-needed, self-pity whimpers in a closed room. Your ex girlfriend might crush your heart into pieces, but don’t let her makes you loose your poise too. She doesn’t worth it. Repeat after me: She doesn’t worth it. Good.

Revana – Two Types of Silence: Silence which is Golden and Silence which is of the Lambs

I don’t usually romantically into girls who are not heavy in the feminine side. Butches and androgynes are my buddies, buddies don’t kiss. It takes a very fine androgyne to make me fall. Revana bears that fineness. She’s compassionate, attentive, with the right attitude. You can rely on her, she will take care of you. You can talk to her for hours and she will listen to you. For the first time in my life I really look into someone’s eyes and enjoying her beauty there, instead of devour on over her looks first.

We’re first of all being good friends to each other. We talk, we laugh, no hidden agenda from both sides. She’s really a friend in need, one example is on the mega-flood of Jakarta earlier this year when I was the helpless casualty, she’s there on her cell soothing me. Really appreciate her being there. After a couple of months, we slip into romance, soft and subtle. Before you go “aaahhh”, I tell you, despite all the sweet preamble, we are being girlfriends only for… 3 days. On our much expected first intimate moment together, she suddenly goes silent. Deafening silence, since through it she is telling me she is still so much in love with her ex. So I thoughtfully retreat myself.

After that we are still friends, a very good friend she is, I was once hospitalized and she’s sweetly being there for me. Then I get well and ready to run to my buddy Revana, but then she’s walking away. In silence.

I don’t miss that brief moment of when we’re girlfriends. But what I really missed is the big chunk of our togetherness when we’re good friends. Now I feel her thousands miles away. Maybe it is more to her to be inside that comfortable silence. I respect that each and every bit.

After Revana, I squirm to every word ‘relationship’ spoken.

Revana is one fine woman. I sincerely wish one of these days she will find what she’s looking for.

What is Easy and What is Not

It's easy to fall in love or to make someone fall for you. The million dollar question is, would you stay? When her imperfectness seems less cute, when the bed turns rather cold, when the initial thrilling sparks subside? Would you materialize the sweet words into real acts? When moans of ecstasy simplify to day-to-day aspects of a relationship, would you give your best to live it or choose to feel suffocated by it? When she turns to be real person with both real lacks and real fineness, would you stay or would you pack your bag and leave for another adventure?

What's the Basic Keeps You Living?

Have your head perfectly intact. Have your heart beating steadily. Can breathe normally. Can sleep peacefully. Have a roof over your head. Have functional family. Have friends to call and to spend quality times with. Have a decent job with enough to bring home. Have the chance to see the world and meet new people. Have a decent ride to bring you here and there. Have hobbies. Can listen to good music. Can watch comedy show on tv. Can meet the sunshine. Can look up and see the stars. Can make peace with your past. Can put up with bygones which are bygones. Can forgive people. Can forgive yourself. Can laugh in sorrow. Can cry in joy. Can love.

Yes I think I will definitely live… :)

A Real Conversation Between Ms. D and I

Nat: Hey look look look... what a beautiful girl... what a hair, what a body, what a flawless skin... and ah the beautiful face...
Ms. D: You like her?
Nat: Yea, ah I will be so happy if I can have a girl like that!
Ms. D: You had a girl like that. Your last ex is exactly like that. Great hair, beautiful face. And how did she treat you?
Nat: Crappy.
Ms. D: See? Okay Nathalie, girl, one day soon you will reach this point where look doesn't matter anymore.

D, yes you're right. I just reached this point where look doesn't matter anymore.

Dear Dearest Buddy

If you have to loose everything and can only keep one thing, ask for your best friend to stay. It would be enough.

My best friend will never read this blog, but he will feel this love for him, wherever he is.
Thank you buddy, I will never do it without you :)

A Post Breakup Note? A Holiday Brochure Content?

You know what my problem is? It’s this extremely clear memory of mine. Not on the things grandeur, but on small things. I remembered riding in an airport taxi on Friday nights, passing Harris Hotel Tuban, into the Kubuanyar lane. It was always quiet, and I always got this elated feeling of “Hey I’m in Bali!” while people should cope to stay in the less lovely Jakarta in such a beautiful night. I remembered zigzagging to avoid holes in your lane. I remembered actually it was a bit scary one, the edges were so steep. I remembered I was always a bit confused to find your gate, other house’s gates seemed so similar at night. I remembered opening your gate, sometimes I, so silly of me, mistakenly tried to slide aside the shorter one on the right, and after some moments of pushing with all my might, it didn’t move an inch, then I smiled shyly noticing that it was the unmovable one. I remembered the pebbles in your gateway, I always a bit scared one day I would trip on one and landed on my butt, well I was lucky enough to avoid it happened. I was always giddy walking in the small passageway to your door, it was always dark and I still should manage to shun the hibiscus thin branches that eagerly wanted to slap my face. I remembered one day I found a cat slept in one of your chairs in your terrace, aha what a treat for me. I remembered saying something funny about the cat, then it meowed at me angrily, and we laughed on it.

I remembered you teased me with those creepy crawly stuff in your shower. At first I felt a bit funny having a bath in open air, but then I enjoyed it much. My skin looked all aglow and you could see the water splash on it, sparkling from the sunshine, it looked so pretty. I didn’t really fond of olive oil before, but since I bathed with your olive soap, I couldn’t get enough of it. Yes your bathroom was a pleasure. If I had to loose all my memory about you, and I could only keep one, I would choose this one: ten o’clock in the morning, we were naked, about to have a bath. Sun shone on your shiny long hair. I hold you close and whispering asking you to marry me. And you smiled, your prettiest smile, looked into my eyes and said yes. I couldn’t be happier. Yes, if I could only keep one memory, I only wanted to keep that smile and the sunshine.

I love your room. I liked how your closet was embedded in the wall. Your book rack was ingenious. Your CD collection was immaculate for me. I could spend quite some time sitting on the floor in front of your TV flipping through them, until my butt all cold from the cold floor tile. I always like to move my legs side by side in bed under the duvet, and your bed and duvet catered that crave nicely. And the one-seater couch, it was like it had “comfortable” written all over it. I had to juggle considerably when we sat together in it, but you know I wouldn’t mind doing it for a million times.

I always fascinated how your rustic garden looked different through your horizontal bamboo blinds. I have almost the same garden view through the window in my room, but it doesn’t feel the same. I enjoyed sitting in your terrace in the morning, by myself, you were still sleeping. I was always holding an open book, but I can hardly read, it was always more fun just watching your garden and the majestic clear blue sky in the background. Yes even the sky was prettier than anywhere. I had the eclectic breakfast, stuff I had from emptying half of your small fridge, some kacang koro Bali, one Mini Babybel, a tetra-packed cold coffee with milk, or sometimes it was a can of Pokka Green Tea. I just loved every bite and gulp. And then I breathed in your sleepy face, and you said I smelled just like a puppy.

I drove a lot Taruna there, I was thinking of having one here in Jakarta . I was never too fond of the car, but after some joyride to Ubud and back, I thought hey this car was actually pretty neat. It was not too fancy I would get constant worry driving it, and not too tacky either I still have the dignity to hand over its key to the Maya Ubud Resort valet person. It was easier to drive than a sedan as well, a nice one remembering those busy, extremely narrow lanes of Kuta and Seminyak. I remembered I could drive from Kuta to Denpasar and back by myself, I was so proud of it, it was a big thing for someone with poor sense of direction like me. Of course with a little help from you when I was mindlessly circling Puputan Avenue several times.

I was always enjoying your choices of eatery. Harsi was the best. I couldn’t get enough of the beef satay and spicy shredded chicken. And the price was a particular delight, I still can’t figure out how I could eat so much there and only had to pay Rp. 20,000 for both of us, including my medium Coke and your Teh Botol, and some of my occasional kerupuk. Then also the Pecel Madiun place in Denpasar, their food was real good, since I can have sweet soy sauced quail eggs there. But I still couldn’t forget you once stuck a fish thorn in your tongue and then pulled it out without getting any wound, wow how could you that? And also you once eating some peanut rempeyek while you were still recovering from typhoid fever, and I absentmindedly allowed you, then you laughed when I, finally, grumblingly realizing it. Semak was another delight. So rustic yet oddly comfortable. The fish abon was the champion. I always ended up emptying it from your plate. But the urap was a bit traumatic, I was busy removing some squid feet in it, since they looked funny. And to the up class way: Maya Ubud Fine Dining. We went there twice, but I’d rather remember the first. It was stunning. It even had stars in the sky, so many of them, spread evenly in the night sky. I was tempted to think could the people in Maya Ubud even manage to set the stars that way. And the Bali Deli. A real good place, although you advertised it to me in a bit peculiar way, “Let’s go there, they have cows as their scene”. Beaches, gardens, oceans, I can understand. But cows? But you were right, the place was comfortable and the food was good. I was so lucky I saw a very pretty sight once we were there, you dancing to the music. Maybe you should dance more often, you looked so lovable dancing.

Although I didn’t particularly enjoy the walk from Hard Rock Hotel parking lot to Starbucks Kuta, it was quite a walk for me with those uphill walking and stairs, but I loved chilling out in its open space seats. I loved sitting mindlessly, unthinking, it always felt so good when you could just chilled in a public place without worrying some people you know might show up and strike conversation when you didn’t feel like it. I could completely enjoying myself. And peering lazily to passersby and having fun watching their antics. Legian Starbucks trailed in the second. It was nice also, with the cute wood panels as accents, but it was less open spaced. Though I had the chance to do something delightful there, massaging your well-groomed feet. And we never missed a laugh when we passed a café nearby, it said it served fork steak.

I remembered Sunday nights were always a drag. I didn’t feel like flying back to Jakarta . And sometimes it was so stressing, we always found things to bicker about. Or was it my insecurity, at that moment I was thinking that in some undetermined time in the future, I would fly back to Jakarta and didn’t have the reason to return. But you always bid beautiful farewells, I couldn’t thank you enough for your willingness to sleepily went with me to the airport in still dark dawns. At our last parting in the airport parking lot, you said you might cried, until you would drown in the car from the tears. I couldn’t keep myself from giggling when I remembered it. And you always challenged me to just went back to your house, skipped the flight, skipped the Monday at the office. But I never dared to do so, and it’s one of the things I’m regretting now.

Wow it feels good pouring my thoughts in a writing. See, I will be ok. I always find peace in words. You stay well ya. Please stop feeling guilty and worrying about me. Yes I let you go.

Nat