The nightdress I have on is still carrying much of the scent of the room back in the hotel we stayed in a fortnight ago, in Bandung. I can’t really single out a specific fragrance, but somehow it just makes me see again the interior of the room – all modern and simplistic; geometric, I loved the black-and-white bathroom – and reminds me of the strong sweet smell of the carpeted, dimly lit hallways that always made me think of roses and sirap bandung (yeah it’s pretty funny) whenever we had to get in and out of the black wooden door over there.
Coincidentally, that hotel was also where I’d stood outside the lobby with arms crossed and a very tiny half-smirk on (was I the only one? I wonder) as the SBY and his wife waved from inside their black sleek ride to their citizens lining up the streets (which were closed for the whole half hour before and during the little literally black parade – though in no way am I going to align myself with that ‘chemical’ band – resulting in a sick macet right after the military men got off their positions on the sidewalks. There was a plenary session going on in one of the buildings on the same street of the place; the fourth APA held at the Merdeka Building, and a street demo I unfortunately didn’t get to see). They had a (baby?) grand inside, too (the place, I mean), and I secretly wished I could sneak a little one-girl performance at about midnight each night – but of course that never happened.
Mr Long-Lashes says hi. That’s my elder brother in the mirror – to tell you a short story, I was a trifle disappointed but very amused when a potential crush (there was this adorable dude with long brown hair always tied in a ponytail) I was eyeing was clearly crushing on him instead of me. Abi and I loved to tease him about it and he'd get all gruff. xD
I wasn't so suicidal that I’d had the window down and expose myself to a very high probability of having some part of my body between the teeth of this beautiful fella, hence the raindrops on the glass. :) Both of these were taken at the Safari in Puncak where we were for a night before road-gangstering to Jakarta and then to the B.
Yeah we did quite some shopping – what Bandung’s famous for. But I’m gonna skip about the price of the textiles (Abi bought a Palembang songket – for my wedding, he said! Like he’d even want me to get married, duh. Well perhaps our idea of my ‘wedding’ is putting on those majestic threads – I kid you not, they’re exquisite, in my humble opinion – and receiving trays of gifts and looking pretty for a day, full stop. But since elder bro is going on strong with his current gf – we had lunch with her two days ago at the ‘Park; meet-the-parents for her (I like her!), walking down memory street for me with memories of my crush.. a Parisian. Married, and with two adolescent kids. *SNIFF* – and I’m just going to admit that I DO NOT WANT them to wear the songket if they marry first, I don’t care if I don’t even get married – which is not unlikely – those threads are MINE. *morphs into green-eyed commodore and clings to the roll of cloth possessively* *flashes fangs*), clothes and leather goods (which flipped Mman’s impulse-buying switch on. And yes, well, mine as well. Sheesh. I’ve been off spending money since, I promise you. Until next month, perhaps.), and say it straight right here that when I clenched my teeth, balled my fists, wore a stone face and turned my back to the homeless that seemed to be everywhere; it hurt. It hurt not being able (though that’s quite technically incorrect, there’s always a way, if not more, to do just about anything, I believe) to assist them to find better ways to live more comfortably. I was ashamed of myself when we ate at a fast food place (too much rice on the local menu made me crave for burgers and fries) and I gave my back to the group of kids who sat on the other side of the glass panels of the restaurant and just stared at us munching on stuff that they hadn’t been eating for God only knows how long, some who, upon descending on us the moment we got out of the door, claimed to not have had any taste of food since the last few days.
That was gray.
Unlike the sunshine-y cupcake from the opening of the new Mondial outlet (I was honestly tempted to take a flute off from the tray of champagne held by the cute guy since what was permitted if I’d adhered to the Shari’a was but a glass of juice :); in theory it’s simple, a basic (not of the pH definition) cake decorated with a layer of white icing, sprinkled with orange glittery sugar (I think!) perhaps over a stencil - but the decorating part is the challenge. I really thought there were little ribbons written ‘La Belle’ and ‘MONDIAL’ draped lovingly over it, but they were just thin layers of thick icing! Su is really gifted. :)
Oh. What do I have to say about their so-commercialized-as BFF for us girls?
Au revoir, Tiffany.
Seriously. Go check out their E, VVS1 solitaires, and you’d find it hard for any other to live up to your (new) expectations. :) What more if you’d look at the IF and F ones… *fans self*
And I used to not understand why women love diamonds so much.
Though, I still haven’t fully appreciated the coloured ones. Okay, so they’re rarer than the pure carbons itself. I think it’s the fact that there's either N, B or H in there, or it's plastic deformation at work that makes me feel like, Well yeah, it’s coloured. Yeah, cool. Very nice.
And?
VB got one as a make-up gift from her hubby post-Rebecca scandal.
And?
Oh I know. Perhaps when I own one myself will I learn to appreciate them.
Hee hee hee.
*notes down Goal #18: Buy coloured diamonds, perhaps pink ones.*
Wonder if they’re conflict-free, though.
Wonder if it’s even possible to be.
Anyway.. I’ve come to a fork in the path: should I stay, endure another two-and-a-half years while keeping true to my beliefs fighting the current and causing a difference, or should I get out of the irritating environment and start over somewhere else, someplace else?
Both are hella easier imagined than done, add to that my mind can change faster and easier than my undies.
O, the road not taken.
I loved Nicolas Cage in City of Angels, and I wish A. Tan Sri P.Ramlee is still alive.
Off to practice singing for the aural test,
xoxo
