Sunday, May 27, 2007

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.