Landslide

Took my love and I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes bolder, children get older
I'm getting older too, well

Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes bolder, children get older
I'm getting older too, well, I'm getting older too

So take this love and take it down
Yeah, and if you climb a mountain and you turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide brought down

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe, well maybe, well maybe
The landslide will bring you down

- Feeling a little mellow tonight, listening to this song, trying to be wiser.

Toy Story Me

Oscar week is coming up and I'm rooting for Toy Story to win something. I cried in the end of the movie to the story of friendship, loyalty, and generosity, well, that is other than the fact that I'm just a cry baby. The last time I went back home, I went through my own toys so when later if my parents move from there they already have the ones I'm keeping and the rest would go to donation. That would safe them from my complaints on why can't I find my favorite soft toys and what not. Anyways, it reminds me a lot of Toy Story because those that I hug all the time years before are now collecting dust in the cupboard, or those that were played with became a vintage ornament in the room.

But, they always remind me that I'm lucky to have a great childhood. They were the silent witness. So here are a few that I kept:

The clumsy dog is Kospot and the Cheetah is Cheepot. Their names mean Koko Spotty and Cici Spotty, respectivey, and of course they are siblings from the same mother. Unfortunately, the identity of the father is unknown. The kangaroo with its baby Joey is from my grandma from my dad's side when she visited Australia long time ago. The kangaroo's ear a little torn because my sister once grabbed it by the ear and throw it round and round like a lasso. The Mickey hand puppet was my favorite when I was 4 until 6. I literally brought it everywhere with me, as evident in all my pictures taken at that age. You can see that both of Mickey's hands just cannot be washed back to its original white color because of that.

Aaah, wish I could go back to that time just for a little while.

When Making Sense Does Not Make Sense

We complain about our representatives in DPR very often, from their absurd statements, dozing off in meetings, nonchalant attitudes regarding serious matter, debates that are going nowhere, and their salaries plus all bonuses and amenities they receive. Once in a blue moon we see a representative truly representing our anger and needs, someone who somehow sees the absurdity that for a long time has been deemed as normality, making anything that makes sense seem abnormal.

I personally think he's a gem. I do not support him because he is Chinese or because he is Christian, I support him because of what he has done in honesty and because he holds on to what he says. We need a role model, a leader, a visionary, and a passionate servant. We haven't seen many, so the few that we have we should support.

I think he makes so much sense that he is so abnormal in DPR. I think this video should go viral. Indonesians are amongst the top users of the internet and social networks: facebook, twitter, blogs. We can make this viral, we can make a statement that we want our representatives to be like this. Re-post to join this cause.

Note: his statement starts at 1:35

Wisdom

When there are things I don't understand

School, work, and the future

Lessons I can't register

The way other people think

Stories beyond comprehension

Sufferings, frustrations

Knowledge unadministered

Fear and apprehension

Questions unanswered

I'll hang on to this:

All wisdom comes from the LORD and with him it remains forever.

The sand of the seashore, the drops of rain, the days of eternity: who can number these?

Heaven's height, earth's breadth, the depths of the abyss: who can explore these?

Before all things else wisdom was created; and prudent understanding, from eternity.

To whom has wisdom's root been revealed? Who knows her subtleties?

There is but one, wise and truly awe-inspiring, seated upon his throne:

It is the LORD; he created her, has seen her and taken note of her.

He has poured her forth upon all his works, upon every living thing according to his bounty; he has lavished her upon his friends.

Fear of the LORD is glory and splendor, gladness and a festive crown.

Fear of the LORD warms the heart, giving gladness and joy and length of days.

He who fears the LORD will have a happy end; even on the day of his death he will be blessed.

The beginning of wisdom is fear of the LORD, which is formed with the faithful in the womb

Sirach 1:1-12

Lather, Rinse, and Repeat

I can't wait until I have my own washing machine, or have somebody else do laundry for me. Amongst all the household chores, laundrying could be my most hated one. My roommate who hates it all the same has to drag me out to do it tonight, and doing it in sort of a team dynamic makes it easier, thankfully. It's now minus 0 Celcius outside, but we really do have to do it tonight. I occupied 3 machines, she did 4, basically we hog the laundry room because of that.

At times like this if I see myself from somebody else's eyes, I'd love to smack myself and tell me to stop acting like a rich brat and just to the darn thing with no complaints. But, I'm not gonna do that to myself.

It's OK, dear, after this you'll have 2 to 3 laundry-free weeks, you'll have clean socks, you'll have fresh towels, you'll be happier.

The Death of Paper and Ink

This year the Buffalo Street Books celebrates its 30th year anniversary, an age proudly stated for a local bookstore. Throughout the years they have provided literacy support, a comfortable environment for book lovers, a place for local authors to meet up, a community center in the very essence. I have been there only twice, browsing through the new releases and flipping over hard bound local interest books. Walking through the shelfs brings a lot of comfort. Books invite me, they lure me over, they have taught me to explore, at the same time bringing me to a safer place. It's a little difficult to explain how I feel, but it could be similar to a greeter at Church. From afar, you have seen him, smiling and holding the door open for you. He says "Good morning!" in the most genuine sense possible, making you finally believe that the morning is truly good. And then he ushers you in to a seat of a good view. You sit down, go through everything you are suppose to do in the Church and when it's done, you walk back to the entrance and meet him again. He will let you go, bless you his best wishes, and you somehow go out a changed man. That's what books do to me. Just seeing them lined up nicely, reading the back cover, smelling the pages, these things make your day. Unfortunately, instead of celebrating all these things along with its anniversary, the owner of Buffalo Street Books just announced that he just has no choice but to finally close down.

While it comes not as a shock, it just brings a wave of sadness. Five years ago, the current owner who was then an employee bought the store, knowing that he'll be preserving the ancient art of managing brick and mortar bookshop. He believes in all the values that a local bookshop brings to the community, but finally it is the same community that brings his dreams down. We have changed, haven't we? We go to bigger chain bookstores that have a lot more comfortable sofas where we can sit down and read from break to dawn. We go there for the coffee and the free internet to study or do our work. We wait for the 40% discount coupons to buy a book. And let's admit it, they just have better lighting. At the same time we look at the small bookshops with striped awnings and think about how cute they are and how precious that we have them. Unfortunately, being cute only doesn't cut it. Uuuw's and aaaww's don't make the register goes "kaching!"

What is shocking is when earlier today, they announced that Borders has filed bankruptcy closing about a third of its nationwide stores, including the only one in Ithaca. So very soon, we will only have one remaining bookstore, the last line of defense, which now I think it's gonna be there simply because it will be unthinkable for a town, especially a college town like Ithaca to not have a bookstore. Until now, I just did not realize that we have seriously taken Borders for granted. I go there often but very rarely do I come out with a book. It's often filled with people, but the truth is, they are not there to buy. The business just keeps on selflessly serving what they thought to be customers when in fact they are just there to crinkle the books. But, I've never thought that they are hurting that bad, until now. It's true what one of those cliches says: you don't realize what you have until you have lost it.

So, I look at my Kindle and thought to myself, "what have I done??!!" (eyes gazing upwards and fists clenching the air, for added dramatic effects). I've taken part in this murder, there you go, I said it. I browsed for a Kindle last year and I thought I'd actually prefer books, ones I can flipped over and put under my pillow or hug when I dozed off. But, a part of me somehow wanted it. Being economical, well OK fine, being cheap, I finally decided not to buy because it wasn't a necessity and I can wait. But, surprise surprise!!! On early November it was there in my mail as a gift, and I was as giddy as a kid high on sugar for the rest of the day. And I have to say, I've been hooked on it ever since. I've read more books that I would do on average, I love the feel of holding it on just one hand, I love that I don't have to lose my bookmarks, I can highlight without feeling guilty, the screen is fantastic, I fell in love. I wish Amazon had paid me for saying all these but rest assured they had not. One thing that changes the whole game is that it somehow allows me to be more resilient in reading. I think it has to do with the font size and the fact that there's only maybe 2 paragraphs in a page so you'd turn more frequently, making me feel good about finishing a page faster. I realized that if I spent a long time before I can turn, I get frustrated faster and would less likely finish it. I'm still not sure, but I think that's what it is.

So there you go. It's the end of an era. I take part in ending it. I have not decided if I should feel deeply saddened or actually excited for this evolution. It's saying good bye to a culture and embracing a new one, just like blowing a candle and switching on a bulb, right? Right? For Gary Weissbrot, the owner of Bufallo Street Books along with his employees, Mike Edwards, the CEO of Borders, and everybody potentially facing lay offs from Borders, I don't mean to be uncaring on these difficult moments, or brush off the anxieties of uncertain future, especially when you have done so very much to many people. I'm also sorry that it is this culture that has met its end, or at least close to it. It is this culture, amongst many others that should have rightfully be ended, that has to go through this.

Maybe this is the least we could do, at this moment of "grief" and as we let go of what we have actually loved for a long time: that we should all still rejoice over words, over literature, over the fact that people have come out different because of it. We should still rejoice over beautifully crafted sentences, refined passages, and intriguing characters. We still rejoice over the love of reading that brings people together.

In the words on the Beatles:

Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me

My Kindle is named Buffalo Beau to honor the last local bookstore standing in Ithaca, to always remind me of the smell of papers, and the feeling of browsing through shelves, the smile of a greeter, and how reading changes me.

Here Because of Love

Thank you for loving each other like you did, for saying "I do" and doing "I do", for saying true "until death do us part".

Happy Valentine's day, all!

Hmmm... it's now clear where I get my cheeks from...

The Girl by Orchard Road

Valentine's day is just around the corner. While it is a celebrated day for many, for others it could be the most hated. Walking through Orchard Rd on this day, you will see flowers being sold at last minute, couples lining for movies and restaurants, and overly decorated stores that make you think a pink unicorn from Barbie world has eaten too much candy hearts and vomited all over it. For a single girl, it might feel that the day is especially invented to torture her; a physical reminder to what she easily ignores on all the other days: that she is in fact and after all, single.

We can't deny our human sexuality, romanticism, and of course love. One that leads us to in the end fulfill the great commandment of filling and subduing the Earth. It's an innate character that melts even the most stoned hearts. Love is the most natural thing that any creature do. It is the ONLY thing that we are supposed to do. A celebration of love, therefore, is always beautiful. The day is also a very good reminder to stop for a while, and literally smell the flowers, yes, those bought from 1-800-flowers.com. Without such occasions, we often forget to make our significant others feel special. In the midst of daily lives, we sometimes take our support system for granted, knowing that they will love us no matter what, or they would understand that although we are busy, we have them close at heart. The problem is, what's in your heart and mind, stays enclosed there, and without actions or words, they become arrows that fail to launch, sharp yet benign as ever. So, in a way, it's great that for those lost in the jungle of routines to rekindle the sparks on Valentine's day, to stop what you are doing, take a step back, and just be.

So if this celebration of love carries a significant importance, is supposed to be beautiful, and may safe marriages, what's wrong with our girl by the Orchard Rd? Is she just merely full of jealousy or insecurities? She could be. But, what girl would not when everyone walks in pairs making her feel like she has lost a limb, when she's actually perfectly fine. Maybe it is us as a society, that has made Valentine's all about you and me, about the gifts and impressing, chocolates and dinner dates, kisses, and for some this year, making sure they'd have a baby delivered on 11/11/11. Maybe sometimes, all we see is that one person, and how to make him or her as our only world, that we forget to look right and left to see that we should also celebrate love in singleness, and love in a bigger body of people. And that nobody should be left out in this celebration.

After all, stripped to its history, the day is actually celebrating St. Valentine's intense love for God that he got beheaded for his faith. A lost of self, for a bigger cause, an even bigger love than looking at our lover, and our lefts and rights. Before he died he left a message for the jailer's daughter to whom he fell in love and sign it with: from your Valentine. Three words that have left their marks for generations to come.

So maybe, we all should learn something from these words by Antoine de Saint-Exupery this Valentine's day. Words especially fitting in today's world, with all its unique revolutions, confusions, persecutions, and dilemmas, making the worries of choosing the right Valentine's surprise pale against other things that we should really worry about.

"Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction."

Happy early Valentine's day!

The Ant Circus

One of my favorite writer has to be Kate DiCamillo. When I first came across her works, I was excited, but when I watched her interviews, I felt connected. It seems like she answers the questions without any pretense, acknowledging the times when she works part times to part times, acknowledging moments when she felt like a failure, and accepting fears or anxiety. But, always, just like her stories, there is a sense of hope and faith that there is a better ending. There is perseverence that endures the negative thoughts and feelings. It's like saying, "Yes, I am scared, and I am still going to feel afraid. But, I own these feelings, I embrace them in me. They don't own me." Here's what she wrote on her facebook wall several days ago:

For the last few days, I’ve been thinking about this joke that my father used to tell: there’s a man who has been in jail and who spends his time training ants to perform the most fabulous tricks. With a lot of patience and hard work he forms an ant circus. When he is released from prison, the guy takes his ants and puts them in a matchbox and goes into a bar and sits down and says to the man sitting on the stool next to him, “I’ve got he most amazing thing to show you.” He opens the matchbox and the ants run out and across the counter. And the guy says, “Hold up a minute. There’s these, wham, ants all over the, wham, bar. Okay,” he says when all the ants are dead. “Go ahead and show me the amazing thing.”

The fear with writing is always that I will open the matchbox and let the story (all that work, all that preparation) out onto the counter. And someone will say, “Wait a minute. There’s these ants all over the place here.” Wham, wham, wham. “Okay, where’s your story?”

I’m going to keep working anyway. I’m going to keep on trying to fashion a little ant circus.

If They Give Me Golden Wings...