how to turn yourself into a zombie in 24 hours?

Saturday, August 20

13.20 – Arrived at Sekolah Indonesia Singapura (SIS) at Siglap Road, immediately sat in short informal meeting of Creative Team and Production Manager

13.30 – Lunch break

14.30 – Start rehearsal from beginning

16.00 – Still rehearsal on the first part

17.00 – Touch-up rehearsal of scenes involving numbers of people, without the actual people showed up.

17.30 – End of rehearsal, looking for some missing props.

18.15 – Urgent meeting of Creative Team + Director

19.00 – Start re-working rundown/flowchart of detailed show from Pre-Show to Closing Scene. In another words, from the very beginning to the very end.

20.00 – Pre-Show touch-up, detailing things that happen before the show starts.

21.10 – Entering discussion on the beginning of 1st Half

21.30 – Dinner break

22.30 – Still mulling over with 1st Half, run through everything inside the scenes appearing during the 1st Half.

23.30 – Stuck with stage design for 1st Half

Sunday, August 21

00.30 – Stuck at the same problem

01.30 – Received 6 missed calls from twinnie

02.30 – Done with 1st Half, finally saw the word of ‘Intermission’ on paper

02.45 – Start working on 2nd Half

03.45 – Sailing through first scene nicely

04.45 – Touch-up on performance scene

05.45 – 70% of whole show is done

06.00 – Hailed a cab home

07.00 – Ready to sleep

10.30 - Woke up because of the nightmare about the show

11.30 - (Should be ready to be) Off to rehearsal scheduled at 1 pm again

lil', happy birthday :)

It truly feels like yesterday,
And definitely not 17 years ago.

When I was happily seated next to this driver,
And your sister and your late grandmother was seated behind ...

Oh!

How your grandmother never put down her holy book, uttered every single prayer,
While your brother?
Let's just say that he was too excited of getting a new companion soon :)

It was Saturday, I remember vividly.
Just like lovebirds who always wish for sunshine throughout the day,
I opened the window and I could feel the wind of August heat.

And we stopped at a bakery,
Somehow your sis and I could convince grandma to buy dozens of bread for your mum.
Innocently, we ended up indulging in those cakes since Mum was not allowed to.

Then not even waiting for the car to park,
I rushed down to the lobby

9.30 am

Your dad was on his way to greet us
And I was asking him out loud,
“Pa! Gimana?!”

I was only 9 years old at that time, yet believe me, that day was one of the few moments in your dad's life where I could see sparkle in his eyes, cheerfully said:
“It's a girl”.

Fifteen minutes earlier, you had seen the world for the first time.

We rushed inside, hurried down to see your Mum.
A bright smile on her face, not even a glimpse of pain she had had to endure earlier.

And it's you.
In a small box.
Along with others.
Yet, you responded from afar.

Grueling days of choosing one single name for you,
(remember how your elder sis insisted giving your name 'jasmine'?)
Many tiring nights of taking care of you,
Preventing you from falling down or kept hitting the wall with your small head,

Being labeled as 'that Japanese baby who never smile' , or simply 'that little Ulil',

You remain as cute as you already are,
You remain as stubborn as you always are,
You remain as one little sister I am always proud of.

So, we may have never been living together ever since you were 6 years old.

I may have not witnessed your growing-up stages,
From one tomboy yet adorable kid,
To become a girl in her full blossom.

But I'm sure what you have become,
One who never fails to learn from her mistakes,
And one who loves her beloved ones.

A sweet greet of Happy 17th birthday indeed for you :)

(my) friends are ...

the one who pops up unnecessary question like "Eh, pa kabar elo?" after we talk to each other for some good, healthy, chatty and insightful 30 min., and not to mention that we haven't seen each other for some good, healthy 2 years.

the one who knows to which direction my eyes often stare to check someone out, yet claims that the person checks my friend out in return, instead of me. and of course, we can only conclude hopelessly that the intended person checks us out. both of us.

the one whom some unknown meat seller in some wet-market thinks that we are twins.

the one whose lovers i never approve of, except the last one.

the one whose opinion towards my lifestyle counts most.

the one who criticizes my writing with a big yelling of, "redundancy!"

the one whose sacrifice in being my 'backup' slowly gives her pain and headache.

the one who inspires me to do what i should do.

the one who keeps bickering about my taste in films, yet we always seek each other's companion.

the one who saves my holiday trip and turns it into a journey worth taking.

the one who respects my decision.

the one who shields me from being thrown away.

the one who punches me hard with the lines like "Kenapa baru sekarang?" when i mentioned that i resign from my job.

the ones I treasure most.

the ones I can't see my life without.

the ones I love.

you know who you are ;)

who's checking?

Day 1 - Monday

INT. MEDIACORP TV THEATRE. NIGHT.

We see Nauval and Ayu seated on the corner. The taping of Anugerah 2005 was on recess. They were just staring at FAILED COMEDIANS on the stage trying to cheer audience up.
Suddenly ...

AN UNKNOWN LAD IN ORANGE walked up to the stairs next to their seats, and while he was walking, he threw a look at them.

Nauval and Ayu exchanged glances.

AYU:
Elo tadi ngeliat 'kan?

NAUVAL:
Yoi!

They laughed.

AYU:
Huhuhuhuh ... Senengnya, dia check me out.

NAUVAL:
Ga banget, gue kali!

AYU:
Gue!

NAUVAL:
Gue!

AYU:
Gue!

NAUVAL:
Gue!

AYU:
Gue!

NAUVAL:
Gue!

Pause for laugh, desperately.

AYU:
Ya udah lah, check us out lho, check US out ...

NAUVAL:
Hihihihihi ... Boleh lah!

Day 2 - Saturday

EXT. LUCKY PLAZA. NIGHT.

We see Ayu, Messa and Nauval were about to enter the building.

MESSA:
Eh gue dah denger tuh cerita kalian. Ckckckck ...

NAUVAL:
Cerita apaan?

AYU:
Huehehehehe, si Messa gue ceritain pas Senen kemaren ituuuu ...

NAUVAL:
Wekekekekekeke ... Yang mana nih? Si baju oranye apa yang nonton acara gratisan, pulang bawa kontestan?

AYU:
Ya semuanya lah!

NAUVAL:
Ahuhuhuhuhuhu ...

MESSA:
Iya, tapi kalo dia udah check out Nauval duluan, berarti elo ga ada peluang dong.

NAUVAL:
Yoi, Mes!

AYU:
Eh ya ngga dong, enak aja.

NAUVAL:
Ya bener dong, babe. Maksudnya Messa ginih. Kalo dia check me out duluan, berarti elo ga ada peluang dong. Tapi kalo pun dia check you out, belum berarti gue ngga ada peluang, itu masih bisa.

MESSA:
Setuju!

AYU:
Kurang ajar! Market elo lebih gede dong kalo gitu? Ga bisaaaaa!

Messa and Nauval laughed.

... (whatever you feel like filling in there)

By any means, this posting will go down in history as (one of) the most personal entries I've ever written in my blog. Like I've never written anything personal before, you might say :), and I shall have no objection on that. But to me, my blog is one perfect medium to release the opinionated side of me when it comes to criticizing and analyzing things I indulge myself in, and by now, you know that my ultimate indulgence is films, followed by books and music. In fact, I've realized that I tend to write more on concerts and plays, rather than films. At least my writings that managed to get published were around plays and concerts, and shamefully I have to admit that none of my film writings ever got published. Not yet, I suppose. But I keep on writing about film though, regularly after I watch any films, or whenever I feel like it.

So you see, I'm not a good writer myself. What was initiated as something else, turn out to be, aptly, anything else. It's really hard to keep ourselves focused with so many distractions around. The buzzing phones, the beeping sounds of messenger windows, the flashy lights of camera, the flickering images on TV, whoever should we to blame for many recent analysis on how modern human beings tend to be more having short-span attention? Or is it short-attention span?

This is the writing of someone who only manages to scan through the title of headlines in newspaper. It is some kind of privilege to be able obscuring Reuters, New York Times, Kompas, Associated Press as daily staple alongside my usual Ice Mountain Drinking Water. Yet, the number of those papers actually shows how to read thoroughly in each and every article would be an impossible feat to achieve.

Bottom line is, I know that some of you have made efforts to drop by here for the past few days. And yet, none of words actually be delivered to reply your gratitude. Or even to reply your visit.
For the sake of recap, so my twinnie came here for 3 days, and I managed to secure half-day leave from my office on those days. Then I struggled again with my work, made a day off again for another errand, and weekends from last week onwards would be dedicated wholeheartedly for IAF.
Yet the bang itself happened on Sunday morning when my beautifully shaped butt flirted with my blue mug containing hot, strong, creamy coffee which was 'nicely' positioned next to my iBook baby. There you go, splish splash!
The right side of keyboard was filled with golden brown of coffee, and immediately I had to rush my white baby to Apple Centre @ Orchard for quick recovery, although it is very likely that I've got to void its warranty. Remember baby, your daddy here has not finished paying your installment, and now some nice amount of hundreds of bucks I've got to pay for your bail? What a cutesy naughty white-y you! ;)

Well, what can I say? Sunday's nite concert of John Pizzarelli managed to shift my troubled mind, thanks to his eclectic performance, and the uninterrupted flows of DVDs will surely keep my weeknights full. After all, it is nice to be at home of yourself.

The month looks good, indeed.

just in time ...

i'm a hopeful romantic longing to seizuring every chance of possible romantic encounters only found, mostly, in romantic comedies genre.

i'm a hopeful romantic who always looks forward to a little bit of quality time in romancing the loved one.

i'm a hopeful romantic whose existence is defined by executing well-planned surprises for the object of my affection.

i'm in love, actually.

i am.

Just in time you’ve found me just in time
Before you came my time was running low
I was lost the losing dice were tossed
My bridges all were crossed nowhere to go
Now you hear now I know just where I’m going
No more doubt of fear I’ve found my way

(and julie delpy starts doing her grooves)

For love came just in time you’ve found me just in time
And changed my lonely nights that lucky day

Just in time

(so, do you think ethan hawke will stay?)

Before you came my time was running low oh baby
I was lost the losing dice were tossed
My bridges all crossed nowhere to go
Now you hear now I know just where I’m going
No more doubt of fear I’ve found my way
For love came just in time you’ve found me just in time
And changed my lonely nights and changed my lonely nights
And changed my lonely nights and changed my lonely nights
And changed my lonely nights that lucky day

(and nina simone gave her utmost)

Crash

Such a sensitive issue like racial slurs, when brought up to the artistic form of visual dimension whereby the words and acts dealing with the issue can be seen and examined with our perfunctory senses, may tend to be banal if being given an inconsiderable treatment that shies away from presenting reality.

Thankfully, the banality in this film is in fact the strongest point that makes the film compelling to watch. In a rare occasion of successful ensemble of too many good actors pulling out dramatic punches at their best, Paul Haggis manages to unite them in one strong story of a life in everyday LA, seemingly a town full of racism to inhale as a daily staple.

In the recent times of politeness in tackling the issue, any forms of accusations in the manner of cursing and swearing are easily uttered to one another, at some point taken as jokes, yet most of the time, it has emerged to become some kind of state of mind. The hidden anger and the confusion of misunderstandings beguile these people in living their life blanketed under the cover of assumption and preconceived notions, resulting of exclusivity among their own races.

Life may turn laughing at us or with us, but like the life itself, Crash pulls out an eventful day of any city on the earth where we are taken to realize, how we may never be able to understand the difference. Acknowledging the variety may be one small step to begin.

There are over-paranoid white upper class couple, black detective and his Latino partner, a Hispanic low class family, a struggling Arabic enterpreneurs trying to make a living in this chaotic city filled with compromises and consequences of every racial thoughts that translate to their action. The juxtaposition of these characters' actions may leave you shocked on how looks can be deceiving. Appearances can not be taken for their face-values, especially not in the time of gun-culture when anyone at any given time may shield themselves by pointing guns at any other human beings for any reason under the name of protection.

It may be a fictional place to see, yet the facial expressions of these people tell anguishes some of us have to bear everyday. Others may put it as "c'est la vie", but to me, Crash shows that in a place where angels flock in, the paradise is far ahead to reach.

one season.

there we were,
bidding goodbyes,
waving hands,
and be a faithful doer

of living differently
of loving each other completely
of liking some objects contrastly
under one unity

that when it begins to wear thin
no, it never fades away
instead it remains like it has always been
and gratefully does not even date by a single day

gone maybe those tacky lines
the past bears irreconcilable stupefying minds

and yet there's always something to look forward to
within a month or two

or more than what regulars might think in their contrived thoughts

there we will be,
another bids,
another waves,
another miss-you glee,

another time.
again.

just some blabbering :)

Beberapa hari yang lalu, gue denger dialog ini:

Nyokap si cowok : “Lha iya, enaknya mo gimana ini, udah tinggal besok disini.”
Bokap si cowok : “Yo wis tho, hari ini dipuas-puasin jalan-jalannya”
Cewek : “Iya nih tante, liat aja deh, besok si X bakal diem-diem nangis ditinggal mamanya. Dah gede gini masih gembeng oom, tapi ga mau keliatan nangis. Kangen ama mamanya ntar” (ke cowok) “Jangan nangis ya, sayang …”

Dan walaupun gue ngga menyaksikan langsung ekspresi mereka, tapi yang gue pengen tau adalah gimana perasaan orang tua si cowok, terutama sang nyokap, yang harus ketinggalan berbagai perubahan dalam hidup anaknya, dan tinggal menyaksikan hasil jadi dari perubahan itu. Berubah, karena mungkin sang nyokap ngeliat betapa perhatiannya si pacar terhadap putranya itu, kaya udah ada yang ngurusin hidupnya sekarang, dan itu bukan tugas si nyokap lagi. Berubah ‘kan?

Bingung? Kenapa musti bingung?

Sebenernya emang bukan hal yang aneh waktu begitu kita lepas dari SMA/SMU, sebagian dari kita udah mulai kuliah di luar kota atau luar negeri, yang berarti belajar idup sendiri dengan cara ngekos ato ngontrak tempat tinggal. Nah, disaat pisah dari orang tua inilah benernya kita mulai ngebangun diri kita sendiri mulai dari awal lagi. Apa-apa aja yang dulu pernah kita kerjain sebelum tinggal sendiri, memang ga bakal pernah ilang, lha wong kesimpen di memori otak. Some say our childhood memories will serve as a platform for our adulthood upbringing. As much as this statement is open to argument, I’d still take it as something in grey are requiring more scientific evidence strong enough to validate this. Lha wong pas jaman SMA aja udah banyak yang ngecap gue bi-goss, sekarang … errrr … koq gue menjebak diri gue sendiri sih! :D

Anyway, yang gue pengen tau disini adalah seberapa siap sih orangtua ngelepas anaknya ke ‘kehidupan lain’, ato mungkin ke kehidupan masa depan anak itu sendiri?

Terus terang aja gue belum bisa jawab pertanyaan ini karena belum ada satupun saudara kandung gue yang menikah, jadi gue belum bisa ngeliat gimana reaksi ekspresi orang tua gue ketika harus ngelepas salah satu dari kita untuk menjadi pasangan hidup orang lain. Sialnya lagi, sudah sekitar 6 tahun terakhir ini, gue ngga pernah dateng acara kawinan satu pun! Percaya ga percaya, gue belum pernah dateng satu pun kawinan temen SMA gue, huhuhuhuh … Kalo kalian baca ini, maafkanlah, dan … Salam Mitreka! :D
Begitu juga dengan kawinan sodara-sodara sendiri, ga pernah ada yang gue datengin selama lebih dari separo dekade ini, jadi memori tentang reaksi para oom dan tante gue sebatas apa yang gue inget sampe jaman SMA dulu.

Sebagian besar dari para oom dan tante yang notabene adalah para orangtua dari sodara sepupu gue itu bersikap biasa aja, pasrah, dan menerima anak mereka ngejalanin hidup dengan pacar mereka yang naik status sebagai suami/istri itu sebagai bagian dari perjalanan hidup. Seperti layaknya juga dengan apa yang terjadi setelah pernikahan, be it giving birth to their children, perceraian, kawin lagi, kematian, and many other catastrophes.
Mungkin ada sedikit perasaan berat yang ga pernah keungkap. Mungkin ada sedikit konflik, lahir ato batin, yang terjadi sebelum proses serah terima itu (emang lagi jual rumah bo?!). Dan mungkin karena udah begitu pasrahnya, jadi nrimo aja dengan segala hal yang udah berubah dalam hidup.

Life is a rollercoaster ride, it ain’t fun if it ain’t change from up to down, forming a full circle.

Dan seperti biasa, tulisan tak berujung tak berpangkal ini cuman sedikit ngomongin ketakjuban gue ama the changing of us. Itu aja koq ;)

in-between

if home is a place where we can’t be honest to ourselves,

if a comfort zone is a place where we can’t escape the scrutiny of being pressurized,

if home is a place where to be bold means sacrificing our comfort,

if a comfort zone is a place where to be free has to miss our home,

if home is merely a state of mind,

if a comfort zone is merely man-made creation,

where do we stand then?

War of the Worlds

Love him. Hate him. Adore him. Dismiss him. Indifferent? Neutral?

The two latter words have never arisen to surface when we start talking about this dream-maker who goes by the name of Steven Spielberg. At least, not until we watch his latest work, War of the Worlds.



The reason for those first words is quite clear: those who praise him tend to faithfully worship him regardless of his misfires on Amistad or The Lost World for example, whereas for those who bash him out will suppress their feelings on marvel works a la The Color Purple or Raiders of the Lost Ark. Hardly we think “it’s good, but …” or “it should’ve been this or that, then it’ll be good or bad” since Spielberg presents his work as representation of his own dream, his own fantasy world he longs to exist in reality. Not quite an auteur though, but there is a certain visual element on each of his work, often superbly crafted that will leave us feeling mesmerized. The bleak look of World War II is captured convincingly through the lens of Janusz Kaminski in Schindler’s List, the swinging 60’s has never looked any brighter in Catch Me If You Can, and the marriage of high-technology concept and futuristic look reaches its highest point in Minority Report. Regardless my disliking towards the latter film, the look itself is enough to keep me glued to the seat and getting overblown by his magic. This is something lacking on his second collaboration with perfectly miscast Tom Cruise here.

Or at least inconsistencies keep occurring throughout the film. I jumped off my seat while reeling the glowing looks surrounding Miranda Otto and David Alan Basche, suggesting the dreamy-like surrounding in the scene. A good five-to-ten seconds there, only to be ruined with the monotonous grayish coloring throughout early scenes, with certain gap of stillness in-between the scenes. Call me being unknowledgeable on examining Spielberg’s films but I can’t help scratching my head over things you least expect from a Spielberg film. Not to mention other kind of inconsistencies in logicality of the story that will leave smiles on the faces of trivia and goofs spotter out there, and failure to bring out the best in Tim Robbins and surprisingly annoying Dakota Fanning.



Does he want a breakthrough? Artificial Intelligence does better than that. It may be a tribute to Stanley Kubrick, but Spielberg does inject his personal touch that makes the film adorable despite its semi-controversial subject. Spielberg’s films stand for his own testament on how to amuse audience in genres crossing over one another, that we often think no other directors can make or re-create Spielberg’s films. Sadly, when I set my eyes to the big screen in Lido Theatre watching Tom Cruise trying too hard to act appropriately to his character, I can’t help wondering that this film should have been directed by someone else, to make it better.

The moment of revelation? Morgan Freeman’s majestic voice over.