Forgive me, God, for I have sinned. I know I should not waste time on posting stuff, but please do forgive me for I’m kinda stuck in the middle of “heavy” translation, so I suppose I’m entitled to a bit of… “entertainment”, aren’t I?

Anyway. A couple of weeks ago my office had some kind of a picnic, inviting all staff and their families. Not all of them could make it, of course, but it was such GREAT fun with those who could.

I’ve planned to post a photo album on it, but perhaps later, when time permits. For the time being, I’m gonna share this fave pic of mine with you. I don’t know why, but it kinda reminds me of the… Hm. ‘60s? ‘70s? ‘80s? *lol* I dunno, maybe the pose (awwww... look at those cheerful grins and smiles!) and the outfit and the colors and the setting make it look like a bunch of undergrad students on their KKN (on-field final project) days *grins*


Ah. And when you give it sepia effect, it looks even more… “ancient”. Like, what, ‘60s? *rotfl*

(just make sure you ignore the digital camera held, though)



Pics courtesy of A.A. Kresna

...

Next day, same time, our phone rang. We answered it immediately, and after some confusion (the phone was dropped), heard a needle bump down a record, and the voice of Gilbert O’Sullivan singing through scratches. You may recall the song, a ballad which charts the misfortunes of a young man’s life (his parents die, his fiancée stands him up at the altar), each verse leaving him more and more alone. It was Mrs. Eugene’s favorite, and we knew it well from hearing her singing along over her simmering pots. The song never meant much to us, but once we heard it playing tinily through the receiver, coming from the Lisbon Girls, the song made an impact. Gilbert O’ Sullivan’s elfin voice sounded high enough to be a girl’s. The lyrics might have been diary entries the girls whispered into our ears. Though it wasn’t their voices we heard, the song conjured their images more vividly than ever. We could feel them, on the other end, blowing dust off the needle, holding the telephone over the spinning black disc, playing the volume low so as not to be overheard. When the song stopped, the needle skated through the inner ring, sending out a repeating click (like the same time lived over and over again). Already Joe Larson had our response ready, and after we played it, the Lisbon girls played theirs, and the evening went on like that. Most of the songs we’ve forgotten, but a portion of that contrapuntal exchange survives, in pencil, on the back of Demo Karafilis’s Tea for Tillerman, where he jotted it. We provide it here:

the Lisbon girls - “Alone Again, Naturally,” Gilbert O’Sullivan
us -- “You’ve Got a Friend,” James Taylor
the Lisbon girls -- “Where Do the Children Play?,” Cat Stevens
us -- “Dear Prudence,” The Beatles
the Lisbon girls -- “Candle in the Wind,” Elton John
us -- “Wild Horses,” The Rolling Stones
the Lisbon girls - “At Seventeen,” Janice Ian
us -- “Time in a Bottle,” Jim Croce
the Lisbon girls -- “So Far Away,” Carole King

Actually, we’re not sure about the order. Demo Karafilis scribbled the titles haphazardly. The above order, however, does chart the basic progression of our musical conversation. Because Lux had burned her hard rock, the girls’ songs were mostly folk music. Stark plaintive voices sought justice and equality. An occasional fiddle evoked the country the country had once been. The singers had bad skin or wore boots. Song after song throbbed with secret pain. We passed the sticky receiver from ear to ear, the drumbeats so regular we might have been pressing our ears to the girls’ chests. Occasionally, we though we heard them singing along, and it was almost like being at a concert with them. Our songs, for the most part, were love songs. Each selection tried to turn the conversation in a more intimate direction. But the Lisbon girls kept to impersonal topics. (We leaned in and commented on their perfume. They said it was probably the magnolias.) After a while, our songs turned sadder and sappier. That was when the girls played “So Far Away.” We noted the shift at once (they had left their hand linger on our wrist) and followed with “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” turning up the volume because the song expressed more than any other how we felt about the girls, how we wanted to help them. When it finished, we waited for their response. After a long pause, their turntable began grinding again, and we heard the song which even now, in the Muzak of malls, makes us stop and stare back into a lost time:

Hey, have you ever tried
Really reaching out for the other side
I may be climbing on rainbows,
But, baby, here goes:

Dreams, they’re for those who sleep
Life, it’s for us to keep
And if you’re wondering what this song is leading to
I want to make it with you.

The line went dead. (Without warning, the girls had thrown their arms around us, confessed hotly into our ears, and fled the room.) For some minutes, we stood motionless, listening to the buzz of the telephone line. Then it began to beep angrily, and a recording told us to hang up our phone and hang it up now.

We had never dreamed the girls might love us back. The notion made us dizzy, and we lay down on the Larsons’ carpet, which smelled of pet deodorizer and, deeper down, of pet. For a long time no one spoke. But little by little, as we shifted bits of information in our heads, we saw things in a new light. Hadn’t the girls invited us to their party last year? Hadn’t they known our names and addresses? Rubbing spy holes in grimy windows, hadn’t they been looking out to see us? We forgot ourselves and held hands, smiling with closed eyes. On the stereo Garfunkel began hitting his high notes, and we didn’t think of Cecilia. We thought only of Mary, Bonnie, Lux, and Therese, stranded in life, unable to speak to us until now, in this inexact, shy fashion. We went over their last months in school, coming up with new recollections. Lux had forgotten her math book one day and had to share with Tom Faheem. In the margin, she had written, “I want to get out of here.” How far did that wish extend? Thinking back, we decided the girls had been trying to talk to us all along, to elicit our help, but we’d been too infatuated to listen. Our surveillance had been so focused we missed nothing but a simple returned gaze. Who else did they have to turn to? Not their parents. Not the neighborhood. Inside their house they were prisoners; outside, lepers. And so they hid from the world, waiting for someone—for us—to save them.

The Virgin Suicides, Jeffrey Eugenides

(Click>http://vividcolors.multiply.com/music/item/294%E2%80%9D">Click here</a> for playlist based on the excerpt)

Remember when you were a kid, and your biggest worry was, like,
if you’d get a bike for your birthday, or if you’d get to eat cookies for breakfast?
Being an adult, totally overrated.
I mean, seriously, don’t be fooled by all the hot shoes and the great sex,
and the no parents anywhere telling you what to do.

Adulthood is responsibility.
Responsibility, it really does suck

“I mean, do I really have to be the one to handle this?”

Really, really sucks.

Adults have to be places and do things, and earn a living and pay the rent.
And if you’re training to be a surgeon, holding a human heart in your hands…
HELLO?! Talk about responsibility!
Kind of makes bikes and cookies look really, really good, doesn’t it?

The scariest part about responsibility?
When you screw up and let it slip right through your finger.

“We’re adults. How did that happen? And how do we make it stop?”

Responsibility; it really does suck.

Once you get past the age of braces and training bras, responsibility doesn’t go away.
It can’t be avoided.
Either someone makes us face it, or we suffer the consequences.

And still, adulthood has its perks.
I mean, the shoes, the sex, the no parents anywhere telling you what to do.
That’s pretty damn good.


(Meredith Grey, Grey’s Anatomy, Season 1 Eps. 5, “Shake Your Groove Thing”)

If You've Never Been (In Love With Anything)
Embrace

Throw me a line and I'll bring you the hook that caught me
You reel me in to where I cannot breathe
Throw me back and jump in after me

It's happened before but I'll see you're never betrayed
No wrongs to cure or fears to beat away
And though I'll run I'll never run away

I know you think that we're all the same and you say
That you'll love when love comes you're way but today
We've both got time to spend not waste

If you've never been in love with anything
Why do you stop it now it's happening
And though you know it now you won't admit
You've ever been in love with anything

Never before have I had somebody so close
I'm lying here wondering why you let me go
You drive your life like it's a car you stole

You need to be told that you can only live the one life
Forever starts before the day you die
If it get hard just take it in your stride

If you could see the bad in yourself when you see
All the bad in everyone else and in me
You wouldn't need to run away


With gazillion thanks to Chris. You have no idea how much i miss this song (and album )

Sooooooo…
A brief update. Let’s see… What’s new?

My editor got me Death Cab for Cutie’s Plans CD from Hong Kong. Another friend found me Terry Pratchett’s Mort from S’pore. My first Christmas card arrived today, from Donna in Santa Clarita (and I haven’t even sent mine for her *blushes*). I finally bought the Pura Vida dress I have always wanted since over 2 months ago. I have finished two-third of James Patterson’s Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment. I went to see Eragon movie two days ago (review’s here).

And my friend sent these cute pics of cuddly kitten a few days ago. After seeing baby Saphira in Eragon movie, I sort of see these pics in a new light *lol*





How’s your days?
^_____^

It's almost 10 PM and I'm still at the office.

The production and graphic designer people, the copy editor, plus the managing editor are still working on the final editing for next week's issue. The distribution and circulation manager is still here, too. Finishing up some reports, probably.

I completed all my workload yesterday afternoon. So actually I don't have to stay much later at work today. But somehow, being at the office with only very few people is kind of fun. Even though there music blaring from one of those Mac PCs, the managing editor making and taking phone calls, the graphic people coordinating some edited articles with the copy editor, I find it somewhat peaceful and quiet. Something almost impossible I feel during normal working hours. Well, to be honest, when you work in a media, it's kinda hard to define "normal working hours."

I have always noticed I have this huge sense of belonging to this magazine. It may not be the best magz ever, but the fact that I am part of it makes it harder to leave. Yes, despite everything. I've been here for more than 4 years. It'd be 5 years in April 2007. And I still don't know if I want to leave.

Maybe I love my workmates too much *grins*

Hm. Or maybe I'm feeling much too comfortable and secured I no longer want changes? Is this what people call "settled"? Wow. I know a friend who'd freak out to hear the very word...

One of those days when I really, really, and I mean really miss my former workmate, Sam. If I were Frodo, then he may be my Samwise Gamgee.

I could always talk to him about everything. And I mean everything. Joy, resentment, dreams, despair... And this is just one of those days when I feel like running to him and let it all out. And he would just listen. And probably responds a bit. No guarantee for solutions offered, but simply being able to let it all out is enough.

For now.

Pengakuan.
Baru pertama kali nonton film Bond. Rada bingung. Habis "beda" sih...



Payahnya, giliran bener-bener nonton dari awal sampai akhir kok ya langsung Casino Royale, yang kabarnya berkonsep setia pada buku, belum ada Q dan lusinan gadget canggih ciptaannya yang sekilas-sekilas sering aku lihat kalau kakak lagi nonton film-film sang agen rahasia kawakan asal Inggris itu -— yang di mataku kadang terkesan bak pejantan penebar (maaf) sperma.

Katanya yang ditunggu-tunggu orang dari film-film Bond adalah: gadget-nya, mobilnya, dan cewek-ceweknya. Ah. Dan opening-nya, ketika Mr. Bond berbalik dan menembak, kemudian lingkaran khas itu menghiasi layar. Gak salah dong aku menunggu-nunggu poin 1, 2, dan 4 itu –- I don't care about the girls, obviously *grins*

Tapi gak bisa juga dibilang menyimak dari awal sampai akhir kali ya? Soalnya di tengah-tengah film sempat pilih ngerumpi ama temen sambil buka-buka graphic art CD The Black Parade-nya MCR dan lebih berkonsentrasi pada nachos ataupun tidur-tiduran menunggu adegan serunya muncul lagi...



Sejujurnya, seru juga sih laganya. Scene lompat-lompatan Foucan-Craig di kontruksi gedung pada menit-menit awal film itu sangat gripping (serasa nonton Fear Factor, tapi jauh lebih ekstrem. Hehehe...). Sayangnya, semakin ke belakang-belakang, aku kok malah jadi bosan. Dan mungkin karena secara subyektif aku udah lebih terkonsep "Pierce Brosnan is Bond" dan "Bond is Pierce Brosnan" (atau, well, Sean Connery -– tapi aku juga belum pernah liat gimana Connery kalo jadi Bond sih. Hihihi...), rada-rada aneh juga liat Craig being addressed as Mr. Bond. Ditambah lagi karena 3 hari aku marathon DVD Remington Steele season 1. Gak heran kalo maunya liat si suave Brosnan jadi Bond di layar perak.

Ah, well, I'm never into Bond movies anyway. Nampaknya not my kinda movie. No wonder aftertaste-nya rada-rada bitter. Mungkin perlu dicerna lebih lanjut dengan lebih banyak "research" tentang book!Bond (nah, ini nih perlunya riset kecil sebelum nonton film-film yang book-based atau yang udah "setua" Bond...) atau nonton CR untuk ke-2 kalinya? Hehehe... We'll see.


(PS. Entah kenapa liat Daniel Craig kok jadi inget Peter Weller ya? Itu lho, yang jadi Robocop... Kenapa ya?!)

~John Mayer - Great Indoors - Room for Squares album~