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44 reasons why I love my fiance


I asked my fiancé what present he wanted for his 44th birthday present. He couldn’t think of any. So we kinda make a discussion if I can find the list of 44 things about him. Let’s do it now!

Below is the 44 reasons why I love him (in random order) :
1. He has the loveliest green eyes
2. He is a genius
3. He knows the history of indonesia so well
4. He sucks at lying and ends up making fake excuses and lame names such as United Clean Sand organization
5. He’s funny – 3 stooges funny
6. He has a sexy morning voice when answering my daily wake up call
7. He sings rawhide much better and funnier than one in Blues brother
8. He has a pepsodent smile
9. He sends me flowers
10. He bought me an Ipod for no reason
11. He works really hard to make me happy
12. He likes dogs
13. He likes mountain climbing and hiking
14. He doesn’t mind that I don’t dive
15. He bought me a camera for my birthday
16. He has so many shoes
17. He tells great story
18. He doesn’t mind having more than one wedding reception
19. He likes to wake up late so I can have my morning yoga session undisturbed during holiday
20. He bought me a new ipod after the first one is broken
21. He jumps off the plane – parachuting
22. He creates a rhyming nicknames for me
23. He made the first approach
24. He stands by me
25. He always calls our immigration lawyer right after his payday
26. He doesn’t realize that I snore
27. He’s a great kisser
28. He gets along well with parents
29. He thinks all my pictures are cute and my songs are pretty. I think he’s lying but I love him for trying
30. He’s a great analyst
31. He’s a great athlete
32. He bought me a nicer camera after my boss ruined the first one
33. He encourages me to try new things
34. He’s so patient
35. His idea of being pampered is me plucking out his facial hair
36. He prays every night for me
37. He always gives me clues that I should have a cooler gadget (iPad, kindle) although I’m not a gadget freak
38. He appreciates classier things in life (yes, classier means expensive)
39. He’s a generous guy
40. He says thanks to strangers
41. He’s open to new ideas
42. He likes to give me pop quiz about him
43. He trusts me blindly
44. He loves me -an uptown girl- just the way I am

Happy birthday baby bear! Mwah

 
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Posted by on December 28, 2011 in Dating & its nitty gritty, List of things

 

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BASIA’s Go For You (& losing bet to yourself)


(Lyrics are available below. But here is my two cents about falling in and out of love.)

Relationship goes wrong. After all the madness, the fights, the dramas, the puffy eyes, we bet ourselves not to give our hearts (and mind and soul) to someone else. To fall in love is like a nostalgia. Let’s just (put our bad habit here) like crazy until we can forget his/her phone numbers.

Life is back to normal when we can pass 3 days in a row not thinking about our bad habit (FYI : I was abroad and I didn’t have a will for 3 days in a row to shop). Life’s good. We survive major heartbreak. We’re survivors!

Then a someone new comes in our way.

We can’t tell which one of these elements tell the other two (mind tells heart and soul?) that this someone is so nice that we don’t mind spending more time with this person, he/she looks so cute, etc (we all know the standard operation procedure is, right?). We’re about to lose the bet. Or are we?

It’s your call.
In my case, I lost the bet.

Now let’s sing.

(Lyrics)

I’m through with love
It’s only a madness
I’m finished with this
This moment was never my joy
Who needs a heart break?
Don’t want anybody to call my own

But when you’re near
The sweetest sensation
Takes over my heart
I feel like I’m losing control
These moments of weakness
Allow me a glimpse of heaven

But I’ve been so strong
Can it be true
It’s like a mystery too soulful
For you broke my resolve
Now I’m fighting I try
but I cannot deny
that I could really go for you
I’m looking for clues
What else to do
I take leave of my senses
Give back all defenses
I have to comply
Can no longer deny
That I could really go for you

It could be so good
I’m wishing anew
oh why should I resent
something I’ve always missed?

What’s the point in my pride
if I cannot deny that I could really
go for you
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Posted by on April 24, 2011 in Dating & its nitty gritty, Music

 

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Snail Mail and us


Hm, I really can’t remember when was the last time I received a hand-written letter via snail mail and I can’t remember when the last time I sent one was.

But I remember the last postcard I received. It was just days before Christmas last year and it has a picturesque view of Volcan de Fuego of Guetamala on it. That postcard took almost 2 months to arrive. The sender – my fiancé- had been already back home when I got it.

Postcard from Guatemala

I also remember the last postcard I sent out to my fiancé. I sent it a few weeks back from a pretty busy post office in Singapore. The postcard has a picture of some Buddhist temple at the Chinatown on it. I wrote “In Singapore on this weekend” on the top of my usual “wish you were here, Baby” there. I didn’t seal that postcard with a kiss though. It would’ve looked so weird in front of those post office people if I’ve done that.

Yes, we’re one of the rare couples who still send snail mail to each other.

You see, there are thousands of miles separating us and we live by the Long Distance Relationship golden rule: Communication is the grand-daddy of any relationship. So we talk on the phone a lot when we’re at home (by ‘home’, I mean he’s there at his and I’m at mine), text a lot (thanks to the nerds who invent BlackBerry Messenger), send postcards when we’re travelling and send mushy Hallmark greeting cards celebrating our important days.

Sending postcards is not popular these days. More than once, I’ve gotten this strange look from my friends who happen to be with me in a bookstore overseas. “Postcard, really? Why don’t you just send emails from that smart phone of yours?” is a question I’ve heard too many times. And believe it or not, unlike bookstores here, not every bookstore sells postcards in most Asian countries. I have to spend some good time browsing for places that sell them. I usually have to go to those tiny book stores at the train station or at the airports.

Last October when I was in Bali, I was too busy taking pictures to send him a postcard. I sent him by email my photo of picturesque view of Balinese paddy field and wrote that I took great photos that day. He seemed to be okay with it and I thought I had found a perfect way to still send him “postcards” online.
But then came December, a postman hand-delivered my fiancé’s postcard from Guatemala to my office. Oh, to hold that piece of postcard that was once carefully picked out, carefully written, and lovingly sent by my fiancé I made a promise to myself to always send him snail mail when I was away.

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Posted by on April 12, 2011 in Dating & its nitty gritty

 

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My first month anniversary


The date : March 16, 1997.

The time : 10-11 PM

Phone booths
That guy was my first boyfriend and we were supposed to celebrate our first month anniversary. For a 16 year old girl, dating a same guy for a whole month is a BIG deal.

The plan was to watch the midnight show of Baz Luhrman’s Romeo and Juliet (I didn’t have any curfew. I was a lucky 16 year old gal).

“I’ll pick you up at around 10.45 PM”, he said.

And I waited outside the gate since 10.40 PM.
I remember the mosquitoes.
I remember people walking by staring at me.
I remember he was saying that he’d pick me up at around 10.45 to watch the 11.50 PM film.

I waited outside until 11.35 PM.
I remember walking slowly from outside the gate to the phone booth.
I remember wishing if only I had a cell phone and iff only he had a cell phone.

He didn’t come that night

He came at 6 AM the following morning with a good story. Lost his car key and all.

But that night was definitely the worst date ever.

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Posted by on March 29, 2011 in Dating & its nitty gritty

 

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I Can’t Live Without my Blackberry


It’s a phone. it’s a camera. It’s my palm-size laptop. it’s an mp3 player.

New Blackberry Curve 8900 Fresh Out Of The Box!

Yes, of course.. I once left my Blackberry at home and I only realized it when I was at work. Driving back home was out of question (you don’t know how bad the traffic is in my city).

That day, I couldn’t call people and I couldn’t send any text message.

Of course, BB messenger was out of question as well. I had to rely on my laptop for tweeting. I couldn’t get any latest traffic info from Twitter. Couldn’t track where my friends were when I was at the mall, meeting for a quick drink after hour. And when I did meet them, I couldn’t show them the picture of a cute Lomo camera I saw the day before.

And the huge regret for leaving my Blackberry at home was how inconvenient it was not to have a 2-hour lunch just because I had to read an important reply from my colleague overseas.

Oh my God, how was my life in 2007 without my Blackberry?

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Posted by on December 26, 2010 in Dailies

 

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My 8 Best Friends


Laughter

I have 8 best friends and I can’t name which one of them is my BEST best friend.

I’ve known one of them since I was 12. We instantly became inseparable. Not long after that, geographically speaking, we became apart. But then a few years back she came back and we didn’t start a new chapter in our friendship, we continue our great story.

I’ve known the rest since I was 16. I regard them as my siblings. We grow up together, past our puberty time, past our pre-adult period, and pretend to be adults around people. We share the stories of being in love, being dumped, being clueless, and being what we are right now : a bunch of 8 crazy teenagers stuck in the body of late twenties.

I don’t know why I think of all 8 as my best friends. One of the reasons (though not the main reason) is I can be with them as myself. Maybe because they’re always there for me, with shoulders to cry on, ears to listen, or hugs to be given away to me. Maybe it’s because the laughters and the craziness to accompany my days, or maybe it’s because the ups and the downs we share in our times together. Maybe because when I think of them in my darkest moments in my life, I can smile and see that life’s kind and good to me.

All I know that I love these 8 people like I love no one else in my life. They have a special place in my heart, and I would do anything to always have them around.

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Posted by on July 27, 2010 in Dailies

 

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Letter to my son


Dear Son,    

What’s your name, son?
Are you another Robert like your dad and your granddad? Or did we name you something else?
I once wanted to name my son Abimanyu, Bim for short. Abimanyu is a son of the Hindu God, a brave warrior. Your grandma didn’t approve the name because the real Abimanyu died in a battlefield, and who would want his son to tragically die in a battlefield? I guess if you’re not an Abimanyu, that’s because of your grandma. That or I lost in a bet with your dad and he got to name you Robert or other western names.

As I’m writing this letter to you, I am yet married to your dad. But I’m engaged to your dad and we plan to get married next year.
We both agree not to have child too soon after the wedding. We need time to enjoy each other’s company, just the two of us. We need to do that after more than 3 years courting via email and phone only. Your dad would want us to travel some more and I may want to go to get my bachelor degree in English or Photography.
By the time we’d decide that we’re ready to have a child, it might be in the year 2014.
I would be much older than now and so would your dad. Maybe by that time we also think that we’re too old to have a child and despite how your dad loves kids, we have agreed to just let go the offspring issue. But, what the heck, if you read this letter then it means I have a kid, maybe 2.

A few weeks back, when discussing about soccer in the World Cup, your dad wants to have a kid who plays soccer. Any. Not only son, but he wants his daughter to play soccer. I had a slight objection of having a daughter who plays soccer (although I did play soccer when I was in college), but I support his idea of having a soccer player boy. We dream that you would be a soccer player who would help your country wins the World Cup. Your name would be written in the history. It’s fun to have a dream like that.

I don’t know if your dad has a same dream and expectation from you. I know he wants some great combination of brain and muscle, but I also expect you to have some musicality ability. Maybe piano so you can play and I can sing. Even better get you a vocal coach so we can sing a duet. Or some other artsy thing. Maybe you also inherit your granddad and your uncle talents in painting; maybe we share a passion in writing or taking good pictures. I expect you to be an outgoing and popular student at school. But all of those are really not my biggest expectation from you. My biggest expectation from you is you to be healthy and happy.

A friend of mine told me that it won’t be easy being a parent. It’s true. I’ve watched my parents raising me and your aunts and uncles. I learn a lesson or two from watching them. There are moments I’m sure that you’re going to hate me, especially in your teenage years. You wouldn’t want to drive me to places; you’re so popular you would want to spend all those times with your buddies. You wouldn’t want to take Chemistry class; you want to take more of social studies instead. You don’t want to be seen with me. The list would be endless. You might despise those days, but I want to remember those days forever. Those would be the days that I would really have you as my little boy.

I would let you go during your college years, and you’d be on your own.
You’d be in your adult life and I would no longer tell you what to and what not to do.
Whether you would be single or married or divorced after that, whether you’re gay or straight, whether you make good money or not, I would still be proud of you just as long as you live your life like my biggest expectation : healthy and happy.

I somehow know you’d grow up into a daddy’s boy. You would spend hours with him and your dad would tell you the stories of his younger years. If you can endure the long hours, he’d tell you his days when he was still a sergeant or even younger. How he gets a real great experience living overseas serving for his country. How he jumped off the plane and had his nose broken for many times. You would laugh along with him and before you know it you might even be inspired to be a soldier, being a brave warrior like Abimanyu.

I should be worried.
It’s a mother’s job to be worried. But the other job mothers have is to love the kids unconditionally.
Don’t worry about me Son, be a soldier if that’s what you do.
And don’t forget to aim for the moon; if you miss you may hit a star.

Always yours,

 
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Posted by on July 14, 2010 in Family

 

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