jalan merawan

Rainy days

2011-06-05T23:00:00.000+02:00

After two months of perfect spring weather, I see raindrops again. Since about three days ago, France, or should I say, Paris' sky is covered with grey clouds and eventually rain.

These past weeks has been a very busy ones, as we're almost at the end of academic year, I had to finish lots of papers and, of course, finals. So, eventhough the PC is always turned on and connected to internet, I rarely use it for other thing than reading pdf, typing words, listening to slow 90s musics and to make myself fall asleep: a boring movie.

Have I told you that finding part time job in Paris is not difficult at all? Indeed. Actually, everytime I posted an adv to offer my skills on few sites, I got quite fast responses. And same when I applied to several adv, I got calls to arrange interviews the next day. But, obviously I got problem with self-confidence and it makes me failed in getting all those jobs.

So here I am, looking for jobs again. For now, I am working as a housecleaner for a young couple in Paris 16th. Six hours per week. Not bad at all. Nothing big but help me pay my transport to school. And of course 6 is not enough to pay my rent. So I'm still looking for job. I posted few adv on several sites and got, again, fast responses. So, tomorrow I need to make several calls to make appointment for the interviews.

I hope this will work cause obviously I am tired just going to school and back home everyday. I really want to have at least other things to do besides school.

Some people might say, as an indonesian girl who's studying in Europe, I might have some fortune. But I am not. I don't feel ashamed that I work as a housecleaner or babysitter or other blue-collar jobs but I do feel embarased if I couldn't take care of myself at this age and still hoping for my parents and brother to support me.

This is my life and I am the one who needs to be responsible for it.

How can you mend a broken heart?

2011-04-27T02:54:00.002+02:00

I know that my life is miserable when I realize that I had a crush on someone who was lot younger than I am and we never even met and when he told me that he had a girlfriend recently. And what I want to do now is just listening to tearjerker songs. I am so damned.

2011-04-23T03:06:00.000+02:00

Maybe. Just maybe
Life ain't that beautiful
Would you stay anyway?

Friendship, Relationship,
Family, Lovers,
You
Us
I

K

2011-04-22T03:40:00.000+02:00

Je te hais.
Aujourd'hui.
Sais-tu?
Hein?!

Melati

2011-04-21T02:29:00.000+02:00

Jasmin

Le ciel rouge s’étend

Sur les étoiles jaunes

Enflamme de nouveau

Le courage du peuple

Secoue et bascule

Souffles donc ton parfum

Vers le croissant-étoile

Et brises les chaînes noires

Des vingt-quatre souffrances

Ô Jasmin, étales tes pétales

Sur la route de révolution

Entre Pékin et Tunis, Ô

Laissons nous faire tomber le mur

*27 mars 2011*

Addict

2011-04-21T02:06:00.002+02:00

From time to time I become an addict of something. This something could be a chocolat-cereal candy bar, some cynical doctor series, some old relay chat application, or even some conversation with almost-stranger intelligent people.

I still remember how I prefer to eat 10 bars of cereal candy bar on a day than any healthy food and NORMAL one to fit my stomach and hunger. I stopped after two weeks. And along with this habit, I used to enjoy spending hours and hours in front of the PC to talk or (literary) type to strangers accros the world. It's kind of freaky if I think about this technology. The fact that someone type something and we can read this something in a matter of seconds. Well, at that time, I just took benefit of it and kept on typing to perfect strangers. It took almost 3 years to be able to control myself and actually began to see life behind this CRT. Indeed, LCD wasn't as popular as now.

As for that doctor, I guess some of us had the same experience. Well, I loved this doctor so much for his sarcastic comments. I spent almost 10 hours/day consecutively to watch some episodes. I don't really get why I torture myself by feeling excited everytime he said something mean. But true. Mostly. But anyway, I loved him then and I like him just now.

And recently, this cyber communication between two or more perfect strangers dragged me back to its world. Disaster. I realized tonight that I am addicted till I couldn't sleep before 4 am just because my brain and body start to get used to the timezone differences between thi(e)s(e) "stranger(s)" and me. I need to stop. It used to be impersonal but after a month, I must admit that these perfect strangers aren't perfect anymore. They're not even strangers anymore. And this melancholic state of feeling starts to feel attached to them. The feeling that they are part of my life starts to be built from long long conversation we had. I need to stop. Yes, I know I said it already but we all know that repetition of words mean something, don't we? I feel quite fragile in this kind of situation. I might be exagerating this moment of my life but well, I am. What can I say?

This reflection or contemplation could lead to another thoughts. But for now, those are things I wanted to say. For now.

Printemps des poètes

2011-03-07T14:51:00.000+01:00

Today I read on Direct Matin, parisian free-journal, about the annual event "Printemps des poètes", Spring of poets in english. This year they celebrate their 13th edition. The agenda is quite interesting. I'm thinking of assisting few of them. I think I will post a message on this event later on.

Right now I'm in my university library, late for my first class, I have to wait for another 30 minutes for my second class. So, I profit this time to write a bit, accompanied by an old man who is sitting two meters away from me, reading his book and at the same time mumbling and growling.

Today's weather is awesome. Sunny with breeze. PERFECT.

My next class is on Poetry and The Commune of Paris (1871). I missed the previous class since I had had to settle few stuff. Need to borrow some notes from friends.

This semester would be very crazy. I have 9 classes. This will be my last semester. Frustating and at the same time exciting.

Crêpes me in

2011-02-18T18:56:00.001+01:00

Few days ago, my friend posted an article on Crêpe recipe. And today, having lots of spare time, I decided to make some crêpes. But the thing is, I like to cook although I didn't do it daily and my ability in kitchen department is quite below average.

So what I did was googling for crêpe recipe :

Ingredients:

* 250g flour
* 4 eggs
* 1 1/2 litre of milk
* salt
* 50g butter
* 1 sachet vanilla sugar
* 1 soup spoons of rhum

But since it was just for myself and just to practice so, I modified almost everything.

My crêpe ingredients:

* 4 soup spoons of flour
* 1 egg
* enough milk
* enough salt
* 30g butter
* 1/4 sachet vanilla sugar
* 1/2 soup spoon of crystal sugar

In a bowl, I put all the ingredients and start the making of my kind of crêpe.
And here is the result.

Again

2011-02-15T00:21:00.002+01:00

It is less easy to blog regularly. After reading blog after blog (dead or alive one), I come to the conclusion that being a blogger is not just about writing or blabbing anonymously about nothing and everything but it is about making your life, point of view, dreams, and every part of you become greater and much more interesting than it seems to be.

No, I don't want to say that blogger lead an unchallenging life compare to the reader. In fact, the desire to share personal aspects of your life would give more impact than a report book.
I sometimes am afraid to open up myself, especially to people I never have the chance to create a better relation more than an acquaintance.

BUT, this post is not about making a pact of regularity and personalization. This is just me trying to be a blogger.

Do you speak franglais? Parlez-vous frenglish?

2010-12-02T19:08:00.001+01:00

I know that I am not an expert in language but this is simply unacceptable. I took the "pic-pockets" pictures 4 hours ago on francilien bus while the "frog touts" was taken a year ago on my way to bibliothèque François-Mitterand. Both pictures were taken in France.

If you happen to have problem in understanding these images, here's the clue, "pic-pockets" doesn't exist in english nor in french dictionary and same problem with "touts les jours."

Maybe this is just what we call "ignorance".

December!

2010-12-01T01:25:00.002+01:00

Welcome December!

I always think that December is my favorite month of the year. I came from two-seasons country where on December we were mostly flooded by rain. And not to mention thunders.

I love rain. I love to stand still in the rain and just spread my arms as if I'm ready to take each and every drop of it. I love the smell of it. Although I realize that rain doesn't smell. It's the mariage of raindrops and the earth that creates this splendid, pure and peaceful scent. The grace that falls on me.
When I was a kid, my mom never says NO everytime I let myself be drenched by rain. Maybe she knows that it's one of my moment of freedom. Maybe she just knows that I won't get sick. I don't really know why. But I do know that I missed standing in the rain.

In this four-seasons country though, we have winter on December. And instead of rain, we are lucky enough to have snow. Those icy white things that covers roads, buildings, trees. And winter is mostly related to holiday. Christmas' decorations in every corner of the city. Musics echoed in the streets. Garland lights, red-green-gold ribbons, old bearded man in giant red costume, wrapped boxes and all that. People rush to get the best presents for their loved ones. Or maybe not.

Sometimes all the excitement that the world offers to us is not enough to make ourself feels excited. Sometimes, I just need to stop for awhile, stand still, smell, feel and let the grace touches me.

Oh well, I missed my family, I missed my hometown but I think I'll just sit and savor this freezing winter of mine.

fre·quent·ly adv \ˈfrē-kwənt-lē\ *

2010-11-20T12:39:00.000+01:00

Once, I read a blog mentioning about How to write an interesting blog. But, I do memorize one thing since this is like the first problem I face when it comes to blogwriting: to write frequently, consistently. Well, as you can see, I haven't done that. Yet. But I'll try. So, take your seat or spot and I'll get back to you with another thoughts.

Be back soon.

*source

La fin de la 1ère GM

2010-11-11T22:56:00.000+01:00

Cela fait 23 mois que j'ai posé mes pieds orientales sur cette terre de la liberté. Et l'un de mes "must see" événement est d'assister une cérémonie nationale. Oui, cela paraît un peu moins touristique, moins intéressant mais quand même chacun son goût. Mon premier 14 juillet n'était pas trop réussi puisque j'ai fais une grasse matinée et quand je suis arrivée au Champs-Elysées, le défilé est déjà fini. Et, c'était à peu près le même cas pour le deuxième.

Et donc c'était hier que j'ai décidé d'assister la comémoration (pluvieuse) du 11 novembre. Cette fois ci, je n'ai rien raté! Malgré la pluie qui nous a bombardé, je courais à côté du défilé et bien évidemment prennais quelques images. Rien n'est spécial, apparement. Sauf, quand La Marseillaise remplisait la cimétière. Et là, je me sens complétèment honorée d'être là.

Quelques heures après la cérémonie, je parlais avec un ami français. Et je lui ai raconté ma première La Marseillaise en lui chantant "Allons enfants de la patrie..." Et puis, il rigolait. Et je me suis rendue compte qu'il y avait quelques mois, mes camarades et moi chantonnons notre hymne national dans le métro. On a bien rigolé mais aussi, en quelque sort, fiers. Et puis, j'ai demandé à notre amie française, "Et toi, tu veux pas chanter La Marseillaise?" et puis elle m'a dit "Non. Si je la chante ici, les gens vont me prendre comme une raciste". Et c'est la même opinion que mon ami français m'a donnée, "Les gens vont me prendre comme un raciste et en fait j'aime pas cette chanson de guerre. Il faut le changer." Je ne vais pas aborder une question de racisme ou bien de d'accord ou pas d'accord à propos de cette chanson de guerre. Je ne vais pas aller si loin. Mais, cet ami me fait refléchir quand il dit : "Je sais pas ce qui se passe. Maintenant, on est honte d'être français. Quand il y a des jeunes qui mettent la musique en haut parleur dans le bus ou le métro, on les laisse. Mais quand on chante La Marseillaise, on nous engueule. J'aime pas cette France là".

Et alors, quelle France aimes-tu? aime-je? aimons-nous?

Au commencement

2010-11-11T18:50:00.000+01:00

Bonjour à toutes et à tous,

Alors, d'où commence-t-on?

Devrais-je vous signaler que je ne suis pas née en tant que francophone ni anglophone. Et c'était pour cela que j'écrivais en ma langue maternelle dans mes blogs précédents. Mais bon, cette fois ci, ca va être le mix/match entre trois langues.

Pourquoi donc aujourd'hui? Pour quelle raison que j'ai décidé de recommencer ou bien replonger dans l'univers de blog? Serait-il à cause du besoin de l'être? ou simplement à cause de la tendance?

En tout cas, ca redémarre.