Yeahhhh!!!!!!!!

16 December 2011
Got my degree
Thank you all :*

Picture taken by Martin Blok
Dress: Riya Faryawati

Life doesn’t want to wait for me. It needs to keep on going! And maybe, because I am still part of it, I feel like I also have to keep running. Am I engined by fear? Or guilt? Ambition?

Maybe I need to provide my own free moments a.k.a leisure time. Maybe I should perceive daily activities or “survival activities” as some kind of pleasure, so I don’t need to have a separate leisure time. Maybe I should find small things that delighted me during those daily “duties” and note those tiny moments as pixels that compose my leisure time.  Maybe “free moments” are just a sort of illusion, for I am not really sure what I am talking about. Or maybe I need to “catch” some heartfelt rare moments, be still, absorb everything and put them inside a transparent jar of memory.

Or maybe leisure time is like the light at the end of a tunnel. It is like a myth, whether the light is really there or not, nobody can tell. It is easy to ask “where is the end?”, “is it worthwhile?” and “should I quit?”. Everything is still dark. Now, what I have in mind is I should continue running because staying in the dark is not an option. Maybe I just need to have some faith and enjoy the journey. Embrace self-denial and say “this is good for me” (add: for the long term/future).

For now i have to get organized. Otherwise it would be so difficult to get some sleep. Like now. I was so sleepy the whole day (when I’m supposed to get things done) and I cannot sleep at night (when I’m supposed to rest and be recharged for the next day). In short, without being organized my life has (again) started to become a mixture of 1. guilt: because not doing what I (feel like) should have done 2. panic: because I’m not sure whether or not I could finish the tasks 3. escapism: because to avoid stress I postpone what I am supposed to do. And the cycle goes on. As a result I got entertained by too many strange dreams in each sleep.

Please tell me this is holiday season.

Be careful what you wish for, it might come true!

Buying clothes for teenager is tricky. Especially, if you’re trying to buy the perfect outfit in the Netherlands for a 12-years-old-Asian-boy back home, whom you haven’t met for more than a year.

I noticed and concluded when I was in junior high school that boys started to grow in an accelerated pace on their thirteenth year of age. According to my memory, that time, on average, before thirteen girls were usually taller than boys, and boys were usually a lot shorter than their mother. When these boys reached thirteen, suddenly they were one head taller than their mother and the girls. Hence, I noted that thirteen years old is a critical time for a teenage boy. If I could improperly say, thirteen years old is “the tipping point”.

Nowadays, probably because nutritional factor (or else, I honestly don’t know…) I noticed that youngsters back in my country are matured quicker (physically) and, maybe, earlier. When I visited my junior high school, the students, on average, were bigger and taller than me-an undergraduate student at that time. As a living evidence, my middle brother is also way taller than me. I couldn’t really comprehend what’s going on, how could they become so-gigantic-so-early? What happened?

These mixed memories brings me to a constant self-doubt when I tried to buy a winter jacket for my youngest brother, the 12-years-old-Asian-boy back home whom I haven’t met for more than a year. Whatever decision I make will be problematic. I cannot depend on anything else than my undependable estimation. How big is he now? What exactly is his body size? Has he reached “the tipping point”? What if I bought based on size-misjugdement and it doesn’t fit him?

When I saw him by skype, he seemed small “as usual”, but my father said that now he is as big as me, he uses my T-shirts, he grows so fast, and so on, and so on. Does it mean he already reached “the tipping point”? Does it mean he is bigger than my mother? But, he doesn’t seem to be! Even when he sit side by side with my mother, he’s still a lot smaller!

… or is it the the visual effect of video-cam?

Not only that. Being “size-blind” in the Netherlands is also not helping at all. My youngest brother is 12 years old, t-w-e-l-v-e years old! Yet, based on my “stubborn” estimation, he should wear a jacket for 7-8 years old! I cannot recklessly buy the “11-12 years old” size, because I believe Dutch children are way bigger than Asian children. Or is it just because I refuse to believe that my little brother is not little anymore?

My first attempt to buy a winter jacket for my brother was not convincing to me. Today, I brought back a jacket that I bought two days ago in HEMA. In Netherlands, as a rule, you can return items (such as clothes) that are purchased maximum three days before (or a week, I’m not sure. It depends on the shop, I guess). I’m not really aware about the details, but as far as I know, I always try not to remove the price tag and save the receipt carefully for three days, just in case I would like to return it. Some shops will only allow customers to exchange the item with other item in that shop. Sometimes customer have to add extra money if the item they want is more expensive than the item they want to return. For my surprise, today I just found out that in HEMA, customer could literally return the item. They even have a special cashier for it. I got the whole money back and run to another shop across HEMA, which provides more product variety for teenagers’ winter jacket.

I have a bad habit of buying present for others based on my feelings and unreliable imagination. I mean, it’s hard for me to surrender my guts and believe the quantitative measurement. This time, I could not avoid to at least try to use my logic in determining which size I should buy for my brother. What to do, what to do, what to do? It comes down to me and the jacket. What I did, a little hopelessly:

1. I tried to use my palm to get a slight of self-assured measurement. And … ”nope, totally failed, this method doesn’t work,” said my inner measurer.
2. I put it on, considering what my father said about my brother being the same size as myself (assuming that my size stays constant for more than a year). And … nope, it just doesn’t feel right. “How come he can be this big right now?” speak me to the mirror.
3. and finally … ”Gosh, these numbers are useless! Could I just ask my father to measure the size with a ruler and tell me the exact result …?” Without clear reason I rejected this idea. I just … didn’t like it very much.

My fingers moved to the jacket for 9-10 years old. My feeling said it’s still too big. So I bravely bought the jacket for 7-8 years old and not thinking any further. I didn’t try it on, I didn’t even measure it. I sealed my inner-dialogue with a final sentence, “Winter jacket is better tight than loose, so as to prevent the mindless wind from coming inside the jacket.”

The cashier asked me whom is it for. When I answer, “my brother”, she wrapped it with a beautiful paper like a Christmas present. I like this gesture and went outside to the dark 6 pm evening with a smile.

I turned on the red bike lamp and attached it to the back side of my jacket’s belt (to avoid losing it … I put my previous red bike lamp on the back of my bike and it was stollen ). I turned on the white lamp on the front of my bike. Okay, ready to go!

Just as I rode my bike across, the wind started to blow mercilessly! I started to hear the sound of rain hitting the ground! “Perfectly Great, very out of a sudden!” I spontaneously cursed #*!%*! non-stop while I have to go aside and tried to open the neck zipper of my jacket (if you open the neck zipper, a hat will pop out). It was so difficult to open it and a Dutch middle aged lady helped me.

I put the hat and added my ear muff when I realized that … the rain was a bit solid and WHITE! It was small, crisp, white dots all over the ground which suddenly turned transparent and gone, melt into water … and vanished. Still, I witness the first snow this year, around 6 pm near HEMA! It only lasts for 5 seconds but still … snoooowwww!!!

What a feeling … snow, snow, SNOW! It’s coming! Today!

***

… which reminds me of a conversation I had yesterday with Indonesian students in an Indonesian food bazaar. The old batch remembered that around this time last year, the snow had already fallen, but this year the snow hasn’t come yet, maybe it’s late. I wonder how accurate is their memory. I don’t really like the snow. It’s too cold for me and I don’t have any sentimental feelings about the snow.

Unknowingly, I secretly want the snow to come, like, “now”/directly at that time. I responded to the conversation carelessly and weirdly, something like “challenging the sky”.

“Really? Is it supposed to be snowing already? But where is the snow? WHERE?”

I asked heartily to the sky, my hand busy pointing up. One of my friend replied, “Careful there. You cockily said Where? Where? and the snow will suddenly appear in front of your nose, you see???”

***

But, nope, no snow yesterday.

The snow waited a day to show up in the dark before me … and I can brag to myself that the sky is answering my challenge. So I run back to my room and write this note, as a self reminder for the first snow I see in The Hague in 2011, in the midst of buying the perfect winter jacket for my youngest brother.

I hope he could witness the snow too. Soon.

*Note to self: The deadline was 16 November 2011, 12.00. It was a historical/hysterical day of my life*

Can’t wait to start blogging again. 1 … 2 … 3 … let’s go!

There are a few things people forget to tell you.

Each year of your twenties is worth three in regular time. The decade moves like dog years except that in the end you suddenly turn 30 as if you didn’t just age a single lifetime. Something happens between the ages of 20 and 25. This is your first go-round as an adult. Your brain shifts and closes and hardens like the soft spot on an infant’s skull. You try harder. You begin to stand up on those baby deer legs and learn how to carry yourself in challenging situations. You eventually grow into a human who is brave enough to wake up before brunch is over, and offices start answering phones with “good afternoon” instead of “good morning.” You’ll never quit being an animal, however.

Around 25 or 26 you will decide to really feel the rain on your skin. It may hurt. By this time, you have already made the big move from your parents’ nest. You’ll look around, survey your life and decide what to carry with you. Who to carry with you. This is the first time you let go of living life by reaction.

Make a list every morning of the smallest expectations. Note each item with a box, not a bullet. Draw an“X” inside each box after completing its corresponding task. This will give you a sense of accomplishment greater than simply striking through. Today you will email the last flagged address in your inbox. Today you will buy handsoap. You will end the night with a single window’s width of tabs open in your browser. You will sleep. It’s OK to add completed items in retrospect, if only to record your performed adulthood.

We are not so mysterious. If you want to get to know someone infinitely better, meet their parents for five minutes. We are attracted to people who were loved in the ways we were loved as children. We are attracted to people who are lacking in ways we understand.

We are all terrified to take our clothing off and equally eager to show our genitals to each other. Do not be so afraid. We tell people we love them when we are unprepared. When we don’t mean it. When we’re drunk. When we’re sober but filled with so many delicious chemicals in our infant skulls standing on our baby deer legs naked in the dark that we may as well be drunk.

Mostly, your relationships will end. You will hold people close to you with the knowledge that everyone is on a timeline. That everyone’s heart will eventually stop beating. Most of the time, though, things will not be this grim. If they were, no one would get laid.

The right people will be your memory bank. The right people will bring out the best in you.

Some people are the wrong people. Do not confuse them with the rare people who are inherently evil or bad. These people are just not for you.

There are the friends you meet for the occasional happy hour, and there are friends with whom you have longstanding Taco Tuesdays. Taco Tuesday means a bottle of wine for each person and peeling back the business-casual mask of the weekday while relaying mortifying tales of performed adulthood to one another. You hit reply all. You cried at your desk. You said “I love you” when you were unprepared or drunk or sober. Any day can be Taco Tuesday. These are the people who fill in your blanks. These are the right people.

We are social but we are not social media. We are social but we cannot survive on content alone. Sometimes being passive consumers of content works against us. If you don’t do it today you’ll put if off and then it will be awkward when you decide you really, really want to email this person. So do it today. Or don’t do it. Or maybe do it tomorrow, but if you don’t do it today you definitely won’t do it tomorrow. Again, make a list. Wash your face.

There is no IRL. This is everything.

Drew Zandonella-Stannard has been writing about the Internet on the Internet since 2002. She lives in Seattle and thinks you’re swell.

P.S.: I’m trying “Press This” feature from WordPress ….