Wiccan Wonder

In Memory of Ida Bagus Gde Arditya Hardaya: May you continue on to a better place

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 10:09:00 +0000

First of all, I'd like to apologise for the long delay in updating this blog. I will not justify it by claiming to be busy; on the contrary, for some time I have been far from being busy. It's merely because of my being incredibly lazy over the past few weeks (or is it months? I can't seem to recall, but I don't intend to dig it up). Neither will I claim that it is due to the lack of interesting events in my life, because many blog-worthy events have occurred since my last post, most notably the arrival of a few of my friends here and our traipsing around Bali. However, that is not why I am posting today (but if it piques your curiosity, you may visit Boon's blog for the juicy details). Today's post will be dedicated to one of my closest friends, Ida Bagus Gde Arditya Hardaya, with whom I spent a few months in SMAN 3 Denpasar during the short few months of SMA just before my departure for Singapore.

Initially, I regarded him as little more than a member of my class -- who was my class chairman, make no mistake. Although he was in my class, I hardly had any meaningful encounter with him in my first few days, due to my reluctance to socialise and choosing to stick with those from my SMP (namely Egy and Nana). Plus, in the first year he took Meditation as a Co-Curricular Activity before he moved to my CCA, which made me regard him as somewhat eccentric. However, since Egy and I were assigned the task of being the class administrational helper (mainly like a foreign maid, minus the accent), we got to know more and more of him, thus changing my impression of him. What I had first noticed about Arditya (after getting to know him more) is that he smiled often and had a charming personality, thus making him impressionable to mostly anyone we met. Although he used to tease me about my corpulence, something practically everyone did, I bore no grudges toward him (because I teased him back a lot too, but mostly because I'm a good person). Until my final days in SMAN 3, we hung out a lot, and I considered him one of my closest friends.

During my four years in Singapore, I would often fly back for most holidays and plan numerous outings, almost all of which he attended as well. It was also at this time that I wondered why Boon used to dislike him so much, but that's all in the past now. He was one of the few people I followed on Twitter whom I actually know in person, and when texting was inconvenient we would tweet each other often. He was also one of the few friends I had in Bali who stayed updated on Gossip Girl, 90210, Sidekicks and fashion outerwear, such as Massimo Dutti and Salvatore Ferragamo. In fact, one of his last tweets that caught my eye was along the lines of "watching Salvatore Ferragamo @ FTV. kalo udah jadi boss, I will wear his work on my body! hehe :)". Well, that and the fact that on his last flight to Jakarta he was on the same plane as Cinta Laura, an artist without any sense of art. More tweets can be found here.

All in all, Arditya was an amazing person who charmed mostly everyone with whom he came into contact. He has very few flaws of character of which I can speak. No, this is not a case of de mortuis nil nisi bonum dicensum est. He was truly a wonderful person, so much so that I regret greatly that I didn't get to spend more time hanging out with him. When I received the text informing me of his passing away, I was in tremendous denial. I practically ran around trying to find confirmation of this piece of devastating news. I even tweeted one of his Twitter-buddies for confirmation.

Yesterday many of his friends and family attended his cremation, done in Balinese style, of course. Many were too devastated to even hold back their tears. Of course, I was not one of them, since I tend to shout and order people around when I'm sad. Only when I can't find an outlet of this grief do I actually shed tears. Many of his friends, from SD, SMP and SMA carried the multitude condolence wreaths that he has been sent. It was a mournful procession from his house to the sea, so much so that few even noticed the sweltering heat. When the cremation was over, we left after giving our condolences to his family.

It may seem out of place to mention this here, but ever since his cremation, and also the night before in fact, I have been taken ill. It seems as though I have caught the flu bug, because I have had severe fever, painful coughs and an irritating blocked nose. I couldn't get out of bed at all this morning, and was forced to remain there while my maid carried up my food and medicine. Let;s just hope it's not the H1N1 virus that's crawled into my home. If I don't recover by tomorrow, I will definitely go and see a doctor. For now, let's just hope that I'll be up and running soon. I hate being ill!

Recent laughter

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 05:27:00 +0000

Recently, out of sheer boredom, I've been scouring around the internet for some source of entertainment, especially since the shows I'm currently following are all on hiatus until August. (Why do a lot of things seem to happen on August? There's FoA, the airing of new seasons and the much anticipated release of acceptance results from B University.) Actually, I've already known about the websites I'm about to mention for quite a while now, but I've only started to check them frequently lately because I'm so bored. Anyway, without further ado, and in no order of preference, these websites are:

FailBlog.Org -- This site features a plethora of ways in which humans show off their stupidity. It's a complete showcase of how many have the problem of being unable to think properly and inevitably bringing them total social humiliation. Take this for example.
SomethingAwful.com -- The most noticeable thing about this website is its slogan, "The Internet Makes You Stupid". As does FailBlog.Org, this website also exhibits the stupidity of some people that, when I first opened it, brought me many a laugh. Unlike FailBlog.Org, however, this website mocks specifically users of the internet in a variety of manners, ranging from pranks via ICQ to screenshots of forums where the participants practically insult themselves with their own words, like Rapture Ready.
Nguping Jakarta -- This is a hilarious compedium of ridiculous dialogues (or monologues) overheard in the grand city of Jakarta. (The italics were not supposed to show sarcasm, guys) However, this website limits itself to mainly conversations in Indonesian, something with which my foreign readers probably have a problem. When discussing Nguping Jakarta, it is only natural and obligatory to speak of the site that inspired it in the first place:
Overheard in New York -- This website is dedicated to exposing the outrageous things people say in New York. There are also affiliated websites that make sure that the rest of the world is not left out, like Overheard Everywhere and Celebrity Wit.
Talking Cock -- As one would naturally surmise from the distinct Singapore vibe that emanates from the name of the website, this website carries material of a nature that can only be fully appreciated by someone who has lived in Singapore, ranging from politics to even parodies on the kiasuism of Singaporeans. Since I've been hanging out on this site the most, I'll give a lot of examples of the humorous content I've seen, like this JC Musical:

On top of that, I also read a suggestion of how guys and gals can watch movies together, what with the recent sporadic spreading of either action movies or chick flick, which forces a couple to choose either a conmpromise or a breakup. The solution that's been offered is to merge the two genres together. Here are a few suggested titles, courtesy of Talking Cock:

1. Indiana Jones’ Diary

2. Passion: Impossible

3. Kiss Bill Vol. 1 and 2

4. Terminator of Endearment

5. My Big Fat Greek Happening

6. Alien v. Pretty Woman

7. When an Iron Man Loves a Woman

8. Four Weddings and a Full Metal Jacket

9. Cry Hard

10. Cry Hard with a Fragrance

11. The Joy Luck Fight Club

12. There’s Something About Miami Vice

13. When Dirty Harry Shot Sally

14. Three X-Men and a Baby

15. Blood, Actually

16. Batman at Tiffany’s

17. Pride and Predator

18. Saw and the City

19. 881 to Yuma

20. Titanic 2: Judgment Day & Titanic 3: Rise of the Machines

Another excerpt fromTalking Cock is this list of rejected car names, which I shan't post in full here. There are a few, however, that I'd like to point out, like:

1. Toyota Corroded
...
3. Ford Exploder (which is quite funny, since my last car was a Ford Explorer --pootz)
...
5. BMW 10-Year Series
...
9. Kia Su
...

Well, that's all I'd like to share today. Hope you enjoyed the comedy!

Sherina Munaf, you did not deserve this...

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 06:37:00 +0000

As I'm sure many in Indonesia have heard, rumours are rampant that the Indonesian actress/songstress Sherina Munaf claims to have been raped by a co-star in her childhood. Before we discuss anything else, however, I'd like to point out that this rumour is completely false and should not be taken seriously. After all, everyone who's been personally mentioned in said rumour claims complete ignorance to the matter, and the rumour does sound completely outrageous.

Naturally, Sherina's response to the matter was to deny it completely. After all, this juicy piece of gossip was completely unfounded. Even Sherina's friend, Azmirandah, merely chuckled in response, since both initially thought that this was something a few mischievous blabbermouths decided to fabricate purely out of mischief. However, since then the rumours have been intensifying, with an additional detail every time it gets published, so much so that even a fearsome gossip like me would cringe at how malicious this fabricated story has become. The scandal escalated to even tabloids and newspapers, most of which add their own spice to it. Of course, this has got the public wondering about the truth to the rumour, despite interviews with Sherina and any others mentioned within the rumour, and the public opinion has become muddled due to the involvement of heretofore-reputable sources of news. Sherina's dignity has also been harshly debased because of the venomous tongues (or fingers, if the news was originated on the net) of those who bear malice against her.

Obviously, this has enraged Sherina greatly, because this scandal has untruthfully defamed her and caused much trouble for her, her family and her friends in the clarification thereof. Moreover, the rumours did begin to sound as if they were started for the sole reason of destroying her social life -- to the remnants of which I offer my condolences -- probably by some of her anti-fans or real-life enemies who have been on a Gossip Girl overdose. (If that's the case, let me remind you that there are a few more months left until the next season, so go and obsess about another TV series!) I doubt that my words will express her emotions better than her own, so here's an excerpt from her blog:

To the creative rumor starter; you have freakin piss the head out of me however may God forgive you for causing all this commotion. You could've put your creative mind for other uses.

To the media, thanks for giving me the chance to clarify everything. No thanks, for chasing my Mom down to PIM. No thanks for disturbing my family. My career has nothing to do with them and the risks are not theirs to handle. It is mine to handle. And, oh, don't be such drama queens for elongating matters that have NEVER HAPPENED to begin with. So not cool.

Anyway, she also claims that she did not start the rumours herself in order to attract attention and publicise her album. I too think this an extremely stupid way to publicise an album. That's why she posted this:

If you speculate that I'm the mastermind behind all this for the sake of sensation for my next album, you are terribly wrong. Why would I risk my name for sensation. It's a matter of rape and dignity. The past months I've tried my best to avoid any gossips (even 'dating gossips' to start simple) because I want my album launch to be the focus. I wouldn't appreciate the moment when others give out questions surrounding rumors during the session. So it's really unfortunate that this ridiculously false rumor appear around this time.

Here's my opinion: Sherina's been viciously harmed by this rumour, which is a complete fabrication of her anti-fans or enemies, and this matter has escalated to enormous proportions. However, there also seem to be elements of the rumour that have been contributed by mischievous gossips with too much time on their hands, such as Gita Gutawa's being a witness to the crime. I found this hilarious, yet idiotic, extra spice here. I could totally imagine some mischievous gossip chatting about this and cheekily adding in this extra spice, of course both parties knowing that the rumours are false, while someone overhears and makes a big deal out of it.

I'm trying to say here that what these people did to Sherina and her public opinion is completely outrageous. She may not be perfect (I mean, I've seen pictures of her having a night out with her friends, and boy did I see a lot!) but she's still got some self-respect and she is a person with feelings. I'd simply like to say that, in this case, I'm on her side -- at least until I hear what her anti-fans have to say about her.

By the way, if you want to read what her blog originally says, here's the link to the post from which I've been quoting quite liberally. Don't worry, my foreigner friends, it's in English, so there should be no problem reading it. On that note, I'd also like to commend her amazing English -- at least for a person who grew up in Indonesia it's apparent that she's effectively bilingual, unlike certain German-born actresses who can't even speak German.

Hope you enjoyed this post!

Why is facebook considered haram?

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 07:11:00 +0000

I may be late in informing the public, since this information has spread all over Indonesia last week, but I also hope to cater to those who reside overseas, since this information may be of public interest. It has been said that the MUI (Majelis Ulama Indonesia), which is the religious authority of Islam in Indonesia, is planning to release a fatwa to classify facebook as haram (sinful). Honestly, I have no idea what would make them even think of considering doing so, although I'm not Muslim, so my views are hardly relevant or accurate in this case.

Currently, the argument for allowing this classification is that facebook allows incredibly many people to view and use one's photographs for whatever purposes (I believe you all are adult enough to understand what I'm alluding to). It also removes the restraint most people have when communicating or expressing themselves in person. Yes, facebook is also harmful when it hinders one's personal growth. However, all these arguments base themselves on one assumption: the purpose of going facebook is to perform the abovementioned acts. This assumption, however, is completely invalid, since many do not use facebook for those purposes.

In my opinion, facebook is as haram as a knife, which can be used for both beneficial purposes, such as cutting up fruit, and for negative ones, such as stabbing a certain actress whose inability to speak Indonesian amazes even people like me, although most people in the society would consider that good riddance. I think the MUI are either simply narrow-minded or trying to create a buzz to make it look like they're actually doing something besides sit on their backsides.

By the way, this is one of the articles about this phenomenon. Unfortunately, it's in Indonesian., though I did try my hardest to find one in English.

The martini, please!

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Fri, 29 May 2009 03:20:00 +0000

I am in love with martinis. When I close my eyes, I see martinis. Don't get me wrong, I like a variety of cocktails, but the martini is definitely my cocktail of choice. Thus, it hurts me and offends me so to witness so many people -- most of whom have no idea what they're talking about -- deface the prestige of this highly-esteemed drink and insult its class and history. Yes, people, there is such a thing as a martini, a classic martini. I simply can't help cringing whenever I hear people go up to a bartender and ask awkwardly, "Umm ... What kind of martinis do you have?" I mean, get it right, people! You're not ordering a kind of martini; you're ordering a martini! Do it with some class and give it the respect it deserves! This occurs largely when rookies order -- not that I'm a veteran at ordering cocktails or anything, because I only started drinking cocktails at the end of last year, but I do my research -- because the martini is probably one of the few drinks they have heard of, due to its popularity. This vague idea of a martini is then convoluted by the notion that anything in a cocktail glass is a martini. I mean, honestly, how on earth is a cosmopolitan like a martini except for the fact that they come in the same kind of receptacle?

Another thing that annoys me is the ignorance of many bartenders. Sometimes, when I order a martini, the bartender just looks at me quizzically and goes, "What kind of martini?" This just gets me on my nerves. Usually, I just get bitchy and say "A martini. Don't you know how to make one?" Of course, he ends up serving me a mixture of vodka and vermouth, to which I reply, "A proper martini is a mixture of gin and vermouth. In using vodka, you've just dulled the drink, my appetite and your tip." Aren't I bitchy?

Something that I love about martinis is that they -- usually -- contain olives, fruits that I love to eat! Sometimes the olives are replaced with a twist of lemon, which makes it less filling and less classy, but it's nevertheless a legit combination. The last martini I tasted, a dry martini at the bar before Agnes Monica's concert, had a lemon peel instead of an olive, but I downed the drink regardless. It didn't have enough vermouth, though, which brings me to another common misconception: a dry martini isn't one with less vermouth; it's just a martini that uses dry vermouth instead of sweet vermouth.

I've never actually stirred a martini myself, since I don't have access to the raw materials, but I just found out the proper way to do so from this article. It pokes fun at the purist way of mixing and drinking martinis, though, but it's nevertheless an interesting read even for purists or purist wannabes.

Anyway, I've got the craving for a proper martini now, but I don't know where to find one in Bali without having to sound bitchy or anything. I have no idea why I have this craving; it's probably the Blair Waldorf in me.

Agnes Monica Concert

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Wed, 27 May 2009 06:38:00 +0000

WARNING: This post has a helluva lot of pictures. If your connection is slow, I recommend against clicking here.

Yesterday, I posted about how excited I was about Agnes Monica's concert last night. I was definitely not disappointed. I'll post some of the pictures and a video for you all to enjoy, after which I'll comment on the actual concert.

Too bad the number of pictures is limited to five, or I would have uploaded my whole album! The pictures are blurry at best, but that's what adds authenticity to them. It's not as if I could carry a proper professional camera and hold still enough to take the pictures.

In short, I found the concert similar to the Agnes Monica I watched on TransTV on Sunday. The choreography was exactly the same. The only difference was that I could see her up close this time and that she performed fewer songs last night.

Last night, she, the Agnes Monica, asked for a male member of the audience to help her in method acting. After ~~some~~ a lot of persuasion, I was eager to volunteer myself. Since I was at the front of the whole crowd, and given my size, she must have seen me. However, she skipped me and decided to pick another person instead, not that I blame her; my size would have cost her stage presence, since I'm much larger than she is. Don't worry, Agnes; I'm still your greatest fan, in more than one sense.

XoXo

List Most IB Students Can Identify With (Oh no, I have to substantiate that now!)

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Tue, 26 May 2009 06:52:00 +0000

While cruising around on FaceBook, for no particular reason whatsoever -- apart from post-IB boredom, that is -- I stumbled upon one of the most complete lists about IB life compiled so far. I've seen many, but this one is by far the longest and the most complete, since it consists of many lists compiled. I'm sure this will please many of my readers, most of whom are my IB friends, so without further ado, here's the list:

(The post still goes on after the list, so all of my non-IB readers who may find the list too cumbersome can just scroll down to the end of the list.)

It's 3:32 AM and you're wondering why you haven't gone to bed yet.

You take a look at your computer screen, and besides the facebook window, you have open:

1) Microsoft Word - 2,354 words on Social Identity Development for your TOK Extended Essay
2) Microsoft Word - Physics Electric Motor Lab Write-up
3) Microsoft Word - 3 pages of your Lit Commentary on Madame Bovary
4) Freetranslation.com - Because sometimes that dictionary is just too far away.
5) Microsoft Excel - Physics Coefficients of Friction Lab Data Chart
6) Microsoft Word - Biology Lab Write-up
7) Google.com - SEARCHING SEARCHING.
8) GALILEO - Looking for a flipping History article, ANY opinionated article on the causes of the American Revolution
9) Microsoft Word - El Guia del Teatro para La Clase de Espanol

...
"Good thing I only have a little homework left."

You Know You're In IB When ...
1. You are already planning where your lockers will be next year.
2. At least 4 of your classes (history, english, TOK, psychology) are talking about almost the same thing, or at least you think they are ... it could be an illusion ... maybe you're not in class at all ...
3. You start walking in geometric circles.
4. You start analyzing random books, song lyrics, and street signs.
5. You say the same sentence over and over again, not realizing you've said it before.
6. A good night's sleep is 5 hours.
7. You say the same sentence over and over again, not realizing you've said it before.
8. You can't enjoy a heart-warming cartoon because the French grammar is wrong.
9. You have made up complicated metaphors relating your love life to a card game and have fun doing it.
10. 16 + 2 = ... wait, let me get my graphing calculator!
11. The idea of "getting off on tangents" is hilariously funny.
12. You start overanalyzing the rainbows on people's clothing.
13. You write a newsletter half in Latin.
14. Your Physics teacher knows how to say "outstanding" in over 30 languages, yet chooses "cool beans!"
15. You need a graphing calculator to bake.
16. You're disappointed when you only get 100% on a test.
17. You're smarter than all your teachers ... no, that just means you're in public school.
18. You relax vicariously through your non-IB friends (what non-IB friends???).
19. You forget to breathe.
20. Your backpack is heavier than you are.
21. You realize that something is missing when your backpack feels too light.
22. You say the same sentence over and over again, not realizing you've said it before.
23. You complain that you can't store notes on your graphing calculator for the IB English exam.
24. You write parodies of Faulkner's work for fun.
25. You attempt to do your extended essay on Dr. Seuss.
26. Your idea of a 3 AM party game is analyzing the socio-political commentary in Dr. Seuss.
27. You complain about studying for your foreign language exam ... in multiple foreign languages.
28. You write stories and give them to other people to analyze for you because you don't understand them.
29. You were a pair of antennae (deedleyboppers) on your head and think you're a water molecule.
30. The fact that "wear" is spelled wrong in #29 bothers you. a lot.
31. You forget the meaning of the words "free time" yet remember the meaning of "literary analysis" (n. )
32. You have complicated dreams about graphing circles and ellipses.
33. You take over the hallways in the morning before school, unloading your bookbag and settling in for a 30-minute homework party.
34. You walk in the movement patterns of a knight to improve your chess strategy while you nap on your way to your next class.
35. You have theological discussions at parties
36. You have theoretical physics discussions at parties.
37. The number on your screen name corresponds to the page number that character you use for your screen name has an appearance in the book you got it from.
38. Whenever you're watching a movie you find all the motifs and themes ... without trying.
39. "Friends" and "fellow IBers" are interchangeable.
40. You go to bed at 3 AM and think, "Oh, it's an early night!"
41. Your favorite saying is "If I get a hundred on every test for the rest of the year ..."
42. Social life? What's that?
43. You've fooled yourself into believing that colleges actually care whether you're in IB or not.
44. You try to wake up fast enough to catch yourself sleeping - and succeed.
45. You talk to yourself in the 3rd person.
46. You write sentences on multiple choice tests.
47. It's okay to fail, so long as you are not alone.
48. You frequently catch yourself saying "What?? We had homework??"
49. You say the same sentence over and over again, not realizing you've said it before.
50.The Sun is too loud.
51. Trees begin threatening you.
52. You can see individual air molecules vibrating.
53. While writing a TOK paper, you begin to actually understand the material.
54. You explore the possibility of setting up an IV drip of espresso.
55. You wonder if brewing is an essential step in the consumption of coffee.
56. Things become "Very Clear".
57. You begin speaking in a language that only you and Channelers can understand.
58. You believe that if you think hard enough, you can levitate.
59. You heart beats in 7/8 time.
60. You and Reality file for divorce.
61. It appears that people are speaking to you in binary code.
62. You have great revelations concerning Life, the Universe, and Everything else, but can't quite find the words for them before the white glow fades, leaving you more confused than before. Oh well, ice cream time!
63. You discover the aesthetic beauty of school supplies.
64. You begin to talk to yourself, then disagree about the subject, get into a nasty row about it, lose, and refuse to talk to yourself for the rest of the day.
65. You yell: "STOP TOUCHING ME!!!" even though you're the only person in the room.
66. You manage to complete a semesters worth of homework the day before the term ends.
67. You finish your extended essay shortly after midnight. Your smile of satisfaction fades when you remember to start on your World Lit paper.
68. You've sold your soul … and have to wait 4 years to get it back.
69. You cloned yourself so you could sell your clones' souls to each of your teachers.
70. Desperate to fill up your CAS hours, you claim watching a black and white movie as "creativity" and walking your dog as "activity", and your teacher approves it.
71. You have a special "test writing sweater" that you wore to all the IB exams.
72. Your idea of impure thoughts is whether or not to copy math homework.
73. You can count your first math quiz grade on one hand.
74. You wonder if there's SparkNotes on the Calculus book.
75. You don't really cheat - you just tell people the answers.
76. Cheating became too difficult, so you took up telepathy.
77. You have a tab running at Barnes & Noble.
89. BN.com, amazon.com, and Books-A-Million offered to give you a free shipment/order each so you took full advantage of it and are now banned from those stores/sites (it took 6 semis to deliver the orders!)
90. You understand that the list skipped from 77 to 89 for one sole reason: LACK OF SLEEP.
91. You've consulted tarot cards for hints on a History test.
92. You have the library on speed dial.
93. You've developed an imprint of your book bag in your back.
94. Your best hope for most classes is either divine intervention or a strategically placed lightning bolt.
95. Your books weigh more than you do.
96. Your thesis for the Extended Essay is whether or not Bert and Ernie are gay.
97. Your alternate thesis for the Extended Essay is why IB jokes/checklists are so prolific and the amount of fact contained within them.
98. You plead insanity on a research paper.
99. Your plea is accepted by your teacher.
100. You do your essays on the plane ride to school.
101. You can lead your way through a frog's intestines with your eyes closed.
102. You have to stop twice and get gas to make it all the way to school.
103. You've been out various times looking for the Abridged Cliff's Notes.
104. You consider giving up going to the bathroom permanently to give you more time to study.
105. Your backpack is only comfortable when it weighs >30 pounds.
106. You have convinced your parents the "1" you received on your IB Chemistry exam was really the "top 1% of all IB students worldwide".
107. You skip breakfast so you can get to school early to get in some extra cramming time to gain that "upper edge" on the rest of the class.
108. Your home becomes a "home away from home".
109. You think the meaning of life is: G = -RTlnK.
110. Your favorite equation is e^(i*pi)+1=0
111. Said equation comes up on a test.
112. You go insane from trying to work Pythagoras' constant and the golden rule into said equation.
113. You succeed in mathematically correctly adding above to said formula without changing number bases.
114. Pressed for time, you conclude a history essay with, "And they lived happily every after. Amen."
115. You get into a slugging match over priority for the library photocopier.
116. It's essential to learn to live with occasional failures.
117. Can we say EXTRA CREDIT??
118. You actually worry about the 105% you have in math.
119. You find that you overreact when you get 2 points marked off on your homework.
120. You find that you spend more time sleeping in class than at home.
121. You are 18 but can't drive.
122. You have 15 library cards each under a different alias.
123. You searched all the books in the local public library, so you found a loophole that allowed you to check out books from the local university stacks.
124. Your list of excuses for not doing your homework is the length of Anna Karenina.
125. You exceed the 4200 word limit on the Extended Essay (by over 1000 words).
126. The simplest words you know are at least 10 letters long.
127. You ask what your summer reading assignment will be in October.
127. You come into school at 6:00am to do Biology and don't complain.
128. You get dirty looks from the Regular Kids in your homeroom.
129. It takes more than one trip to carry the books you need between your car and your locker.
130. You carry around SAT vocab flash cards to whip out in your free time.
131. You can list all 5 definitions on vocabulary tests.
132. When you are home sick, you can't help but wonder what work you're missing and what your homework is.
133. When you're watching TV, you feel guilty because not all of your homework is done.
134. That was a lie, you don't watch TV (except for NBC News at 6).
135. You show up 4 hours late to an IB test and still manage to get a "5".
136. During a Chemistry test, instead of doing the work, you write a random answer program in your TI-83+ Silver Edition and get the highest score in the class.
137. Your idea of great art is simultaneously graphing the sine, cosine and tangent graphs on your calculator.
138. You have functioning electrical appliances in your locker.
139. You can type 70 words per minute -- on a TI-89.
140. You actually believe "mental health days" are excused absences.
141. Brewing coffee takes too long, so you just eat the beans.
142. You're afraid of sunlight since you haven't seen it in 3 years.
143. Breakfast?! What's that?
144. The bags under your eyes are heavier than the ones carrying your textbooks.
145. You always seem to have one continuous headache.
146. You haven't seen light in so long you glow in the dark.
147. You find yourself thinking "Without stress my life would be empty."
148. Your contacts are so thick that you have trouble closing your eyes.
149. You can count the number of hours you sleep each week on one missing hand.
150. You've taught yourself how to take naps while walking to your next class.
151. You actually put the apostrophe in front of the word " 'cause. "
152. You think MTV is a formula for mass, temperature and volume.
153. You clean up your room and find a bed.
154. You wonder about things like what would happen if your car traveled at the speed of light and you turned your lights on.
155. Everything you know about sex, you learned from the English reading list.
156. You enjoy finding out the hard way why normal distribution should work.
157. It's the little things that confuse you.
158. You have the chemical formula and steps of synthesis for caffeine memorized.
159. You still think Beavis and Butthead is a true-to-life TV show about "normal high school".
160. You find all the "glitches" in movies.
161. You use your ToK background to analyze Winnie the Pooh's Book of Quotations.
162. When asked what significance Hitler had to Racial Social Darwinism, you say "Well, he didn't like Jews."
163. You look foward to hell week because you think hell would be an improvement on your current situation.
Free time?
164. You've mastered the art of procrastination so well that your research paper finishes printing just seconds before you have to leave for school.
165. You get to college and realize the classes you are taking seem really familiar.
166. Your college professors' grading systems seem a little too lenient.
167. You dread the word rubric.
168. You managed to write 4,000 words on the subject "Hitler was a nice guy, wasn't he?" (sarcasm not included)
169. You've managed to get through an entire year of History of the Americas without reading one page of your test book.
170. You hold "parties" to study.
171. You look forward to your parties.
172. Your fellow IBers look forward to your parties, attend them, and do actual studying there.
173. Your pick-up lines include compliments on the quality of her (his) epidermis and the wonderful shape of her (his) occipital plate.
174. You forget your brother's name because you haven't seen him in three years.
175. Wait ... what brother?
176. When on vacation, you visit other schools.
177. You have races with your friends to see who can say the entire periodic table of elements the fastest.
178. You'd go into severe spasms if you ever lost your IB herd.
179. You see your Extended Essay advisor more than you see your parents.
180. You talk in your sleep -- in Spanish.
181. The only French you know is "J'aime manger le poisson."
182. You resort to communicating with classmates through a series of clicks because languages take too long.
183. You love the "Macarena" not because it's a neat-o dance, but because you actually understand what those Spanish guys are saying.
184. You say the same sentence over and over again, not realizing you've said it before.
185. You no longer speak English -- You speak a combination of English, German, Spanish, French, Portugese, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese, Russian, Norwegian, Hebrew, Arabic, Japanese, Korean, and Polish.
186. Fellow IBers understand and use the same combined language.
187. You convert it to 36-bit words converted to hexadecimal numbers to communicate as it is faster.
188. You write a text-to-speech program that uses this hexadecimal linguistic conglomerate.
189. You modify your text-to-speech program so that it also works as speech-to-text, and is eerily accurate.
190. You know how to integrate a chicken and can take the derivative of water.
191. You scoff at others’ lowly TI-83s while you caress your TI-93+ with pride.
192. You debate about physics during lunch … and usually win.
193. You know the chemical composition of the ugly brown stains on the ceiling tiles.
194. Your calculators are an extension of your body.
195. You feel guilty if you go more than a week without homework or some form of schooling.
196. You're sad, because you can only take four HL tests.
197. You hack the school’s network and duplicate your records so that you can take another three HLs, then merge the records together after you take your senior IB exams.
198. You actually think you have a shot at passing the physics HL exam.
199. You make a date to do homework together and you actually do.
200. You derive formulas for fun. From first principles.
201. You write your "What is Truth?" ToK paper entirely in Newspeak.
202. You celebrate pi day (3/14), mole day (10/23), and pi approximation day (22/7 (d/m), as 22/7 is very close to pi).
203. You haven't studied for American History all year, and the week before semester finals you think "Why should I start now?"
204. It rains and you place the umbrella over your bookbag instead of yourself.
205. You know how to spell "Baccalaureate".
206. You crash your calculator.
207. You skip school to do homework.
208. The word "ponder" induces hyperventilation.
209. You're American and you write everything using British spelling.
210. You focus your WHOLE LIFE around the Group 4 project.
211. You accidently type "LOOL" instead of "LOL" in an IM conversation and explain it as "Laugh out ostentatiously loud".
212. Someone tells you to relax and you go into spasms - "Relax? RELAX?!?"
213. "It's a beautiful day outside to do that science experiment."
214. You are so accustomed to being stressed, that when you aren't, you have a panic attack.
215. You sleep with your eyes half open because you don't have the energy to close them all the way.
216. You rush to the IB workroom immediately when 2nd block ends, type up your whole 500-word essay (that you wrote on paper by hand in 1st block), print it out, and make it to 3rd block before the next bell rings.
217. The cure to your depression is concentrating on homework.
218. You start working on your presentation for History of the Americas 3 minutes after you have already started presenting.
219. You persuade your History teacher that everything you have said in that half hour of presenting makes sense and has a point, even though you don't know what that point is.
220. When people ask you if your community service is for a crime and you reply with, "no ... it's just school."
221. The school administrators stop everyone around you for being late, but you breeze right past.
222. You spend more time on college applications than on homework.
223. You keep your candidate number more secure than your social security number.
224. You begin to form verbs using book titles, and use them often in everyday conversation.
225. During the holiday break, instead of greeting you happily at the door, your family asks, "Who the hell are you?"
226. You're late for graduation because you are sneaking around to do chem labs.
227. Everything you notice everywhere seems to be ''ironic'' or ''symbolic'' of some deeper meaning or other.
228. Your IB dropout friends from IB HL Math tell you that AP Calculus is a piece of cake, and you're jealous.
229. Your elective is an AP and you feel like your IQ is declining rapidly while sitting in that class.
230. You are intimately familiar with all the grading scales and manipulate them to exert the bare minimum effort.
231. You finish your homework before midnight, but find some excuse to stay up until 3 AM ... like compiling this list, just because it makes you laugh.
232. You can't watch a movie without organizing who knows what and how much time is passing.
233. Forget your favorite band. The only good sounds after 10 PM are from Xerox, HP, or Lexmark.
234. Every computer in your school has a strategically saved copy of some work you did. Furthermore, you know which computers they are and what you left there.
235. Your history teacher is the one who reminds you your break starts tomorrow.
236. You go to school on senior skip day worrying about getting behind, and turns out, all your classmates are there too.
237. You freak out about class-specific or music-related school trips because of all the class and work you will be missing. Four months in advance.
238. You stay in class until the very last minute to make it onto the bus that you're taking with the soccer team to an away game, even though players were asked to leave class 30 mins early to get ready.
239. You spend more time trying to decide when you'll do your homework than actually doing it.
240. You get nervous when you have free time.
241. You spend more hours getting your CAS forms signed than the number of hours written on those forms, because you wait until the last minute to fill out the forms. Naturally; it would be a waste of time otherwise.
242. You broke your stapler because every paper you write has too many pages to staple together.
243. You've read Crime and Punnishment, twice, in Russian, over the summer, actually know what the hell is going on and who the hell everyone is and who the hell said what.
244. You and your friends choose among you which ones are most like each of the characters.
245. Over the summer, you miss the routine of getting less than 3 hours of sleep a night.
246. Your summer doesn't feel like a break from school at all. You feel guilty for going away on vacation (even though you bring your homework).
247. Your only social event on the weekend is the community service trip to the nursing home.
248. You stop looking forward to weekends because weekends are simply the time when you do the work that school got in the way of.
249. It annoys you that 248 ends in a preposition, and that this list ends at 249. ¹

Although we all probably know (wait, how do we know?) that the list is slightly exaggerated, most of the non-IB students probably don't realise how close to home this list hits. For example, I can testify to the literal truth of many of the points there. For example, I have to admit that after IB I have used all four ways of knowing to prove the truth behind number 4. Yes, I analyse even song lyrics after I was done with IB. Sometimes, I feel like a nerd for cringing whenever I hear songs like taylor Swift's Love Story and Check Yes Juliet by WE The Kings, only because they romanticise the story of Romeo and Juliet, making references to the story as if the story ended up happily, and expressing their will to end up like Romeo and Juliet. I mean, honestly, the story was a tragedy! They committed suicide one after the other and died in pain! These people haven't even read or watched the play and make references to it as if they have, something that ticks me off.

I also agree completely with number 27. Initially I complained a lot about the Spanish ab initio programme -- in Spanish -- especially in my first semester in IB, when I lost to ... wait for it ... Hair-Extension Girl! Now, I'm starting to forget whatever Spanish I learnt in those short two years, though I'm trying my hardest to regain it by reading La Casa de Bernarda Alba over and over again, without looking at the English translations. On a related note, some people have claimed that number 180 applies to me too, and I believe number 183 to be true as well. Strangely, my WinAmp player chose to play Il Divo's La Vida Sin Amor during the whole of this paragraph. Maybe it's symbolic, or maybe I'm proving the truth behind number 227; You never know.

Yes, I do discuss physics with my friends over lunch, even when we don't have homework, because our physics teacher lets us out early, and the topics of discussion sound suspiciously like number 154. I'm sure Mel and Ronald -- to name a few -- can testify to this. On top of that, we apply all kinds of principles to the occurences in and around the school. For example, we would justify eating in the classroom during Econs by pointing out that the recession is approaching, and we needed to increase consumption in order to prevent unemployment from settling in.

Due to my prissiness, I also admit to number 151, and number 144 is so true that I actually used talcum powder, white eyeshadow, concealer and anything on which I could lay my hands to hide them. I mean, I couldn't go to school and socialise when I had horrendous eyebags distracting me from what I was doing. It was also in IB that I started drinking coffee on a regular basis, where "a regular basis" is defined as every recess, break and free period, despite the fact that coffee makes me nauseous. It was also the only time of my life I ever brewed coffee for myself. Unlike many people, I drank coffee solely for the caffeine boost, something for which I endured nausea and acid reflux.

Since I don't look forward to discussing every statement that is taken from literal experiences, I'll just discuss one more statement, one that I just have to discuss: number 207, however ironic it may seem, is true. It is often that my fellow IB students skip schools and go for MCs, especially so in Year 6, solely to complete the IAs, EE, ToK essays, WLs or IOPs. This was so severe that during the weeks before and during our IOCs, the weeks in which portfolios were due, the week before the final deadline of our EEs and the weeks just prior to exams, no excuse for skipping school is considered valid by the school, even legitimate MCs, and those who MC (yes, this is a legitimate verb in my school) more than a given number of times in these weeks are subject to a disciplinary hearing with the school counselor, one of the deputy principals or the principal, depending on the severity of the crime (which basically means how many MCs are on file).

Anyway, those who have read my previous post whoudl be relieved to know my time of boredom will end in a short time, and by "in a short time" I mean tonight, because tonight I'm attending Agnes Monica's concert at Blue Eyes! This is going to be the first time I go to a club in Bali, and I'm excited because Agnes Monica is the only reason my parents will ever consciously grant me their consent to my attending a club event. This is something to which I highly look forward, and I hope to make an impression tonight!!! I'm even listening to Agnes' new album in a (vain) attempt to mug up the songs. After all, I don't want to embarass myself by fumbling over the lyrics that I foresee shouting from the crowds. So, talk to you later.

Ta ta!
XoXo

P.S. I felt a sense of dissatisfaction when I published the post just now, since I didn't cite the source of the list I have shown you. That's why I'll be a good IB student and place a bibliography here.

Bibliography:
¹ "Your AP Classes "Is Killin' You"? Why Don't You Come And Try IB Sometime" http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=2207816735

I really have no idea what goes here

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Sat, 23 May 2009 07:56:00 +0000

I do apologise for the lateness of this post, my only excuse being the hectic schedule I've had, topped off by the torpor and boredom of the whole week. Notice a paradox in the last sentence?

To be honest, I found this week extremely boring, despite the fact that my birthday was on Monday. I celebrated it with my family by having a small yakiniku-style barbecue. It was thoroughly enjoyable, don't get me wrong, but just not blogging material. I must admit that I did have fun this week, just not the reflective, thought-provoking and mentally-stimulating kind of fun I'm used to having. The day after, a few of my relatives and I went out for karaoke and for an exorbitant dinner at Pizza Hut (too bad they don't have Subway here in Bali!) -- both my treat, of course -- and I must confess that although I found the whole night to be enjoyable, there was nothing reflective or mentally-stimulating at all about it. I'm beginning to think that I'm gradually losing the profound inner-self I had to feed for the past 19 years of my life. Sure, it makes everything simpler, since I no longer have to worry about anything other than mundane comforts and I don't think that I'd have to satisfy my craving to read much.

Or maybe it's that I haven't been reading any good books lately; hence, since my life is incredibly boring, I lack the mental stimulation I usually enjoy from books and witty repartee with teachers and mentors. I need more books! Or at least I need something that'll force me to think more. Maybe, just maybe, I should start stirring up some trouble and waging wars. At least that'll keep me occupied. :P

Buddhism and Wicca: the Merging of two philosophies.

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Tue, 12 May 2009 07:44:00 +0000

Recently (and by recent I mean Vesak Day) I was asked (actually, tweeted) about my beliefs, as a reply to what I announced to the whole Twittersphere, which was that I was actually trying to be a better Buddhist by not going to the temple to merely waft incense. The @reply (from Ricky) was essentially asking me whether I believed in Wicca or Buddhism. It was then that I found it imperative for me to type this post. I want to explain how I came to believe in both Buddhism and Wicca at the same time and to dispel any misconceptions I am sure many have about these two religions (more like philosophies).

Buddhism is not a religion, in my opinion, since it does not consist of "worshipping" a deity or being for anything. In Buddhism, the law of Karma is in effect; no being can escape the Karma he has sown. Therefore, it makes little to no sense to wordhip other creatures for anything. The aim of Buddhism is not to achieve a life filled with happiness; it is to achieve a life with no suffering. It is recognised in Buddhism that mundane happiness leads to suffering when it ends. Hence the true Buddhist maintains emotional balance by being content with whatever event that occurs in his life, avoiding extreme emotions such as glee and sadness, thereby avoiding the suffering that arises due to a change in his state. One of the principle teachings of Buddhism is anicca, the impermanence of things. Some may think that is is due to this impermanence that suffering arises. However, anicca is not to be blamed for suffering, since impermanence is an immutable quality of the world. It is, in fact, one's attachments to the impermanent that causes suffering. For example, one is in love with one's pet, to the extent of forbidding others from even touching said pet. However, if one does not realise the impermanence of the pet, when the pet eventually dies (and believe me it will die) suffering arises. Therefore, in order to be rid of suffering, one must remove all attachments to anything. One of the most difficult attachment to remove is the attachment to happiness. People just can't get enough of happiness, knowing that doing so brings them suffering.

Wicca, on the other hand, is (mostly) a duotheistic religion which believes that the any creation (whether it be the creation of a piece of art or the world) occurs due to the union of a masculine and a feminine aspect. Therefore, just like the creation of a human being, the creation of the whole world would also require the union of a lingam and a yoni, although they may not be so obvious. In Wicca, all the feminine aspects are joined and personified as The Goddess. Likewise, the masculine aspects are personified as The God. These two deities are worshipped, and their union (called the Great Union) is considered holy. All the other impressions the public have of Wicca (like flying on broomsticks and boiling cauldrons of bubbling green stuff) have actual symbolic significance, but shall not be discussed here, since they're only a Google search away.

In the merging of Wicca and Buddhism, which I find to be rather easy, all one have to do is applu the underlying assumption of anicca to even the God and Goddesses, since Buddhism also recognises gods who live on higher realms than we do. However, these gods, who have not attained enlightenment yet, are also subject to anicca and, therefore, suffering.

Some personal stuff first

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 11 May 2009 04:52:00 +0000

I plan on creating another post soon after this one on how I find that Buddhism and Wicca can merge, followed by the explanation of suffering in the context of said philosphy. However, before all that, I plan on catering for those readers of mine who are also my firends and want to keep up with my news. Anyway, yesterday I practically did nothing but surf the web, ironically barely touching facebook save to reply to a few comments. The day before, however, I attended the French Films Festival held in Bali by the Alliance Francaise of Denpasar. Fortunately, I chanced upon the article as I was flicking mindlessly through the newspaper. Not only were the tickets free (courtesy of Alliance Francaise in their attempts to get the public more interested in the French culture) the movies they offered were extraordinary!

I decided to watch Tout est pardonné, a movie about a family on the verge of breaking, where the father, Victor, subsequently is caught for drug abuse and is admitted into rehab. Feeling that the marriage was doomed, the mother, Anette, leaves him with their six-year-old, Pamela. Anette remarries and discusses little of her husband to Pamela, making her believe that Victor left them of his own free will and cares little about them. A significant amount of time later, when Pamela is 18, Victor's sister's attempts to contact her finally bear fruit. Pamela receives word of her father's location and during weekends she visits him occasionally. For a more detailed review, which involves a spoiler, follow the link that I've given.

Initially watching this movie confounded me, since the opening scene took place in Vienna and people were speaking German to and fro (Anette is Swiss). In fact, the thought that I was in the wrong theatre crossed my mind, only to be dispelled when I remembered the welcome we received from the representatives of the Alliance Francaise (and the fluency with which the Caucasian spoke Indonesian) before the start of the movie. Then I started thinking that they'd played the wrong roll of film, although I did see Tout est pardonné flash on the screen before the movie started, and just then Victor finally started speaking to his daughter in French, and I finally knew that we were in the right theatre and the right movie was being played.

When the scene switched to Paris, and the tension between Victor and Anette grew to unbearable extremes, I was immediately reminded of Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, what with the intra-family violence and their constant attempts to keep it hidden from their child. moreover, the foreshadowing of the marital break-up was hinted, but not evident, from the start of the movie. All in all, I enjoyed the movie very much, especially after the twist. I especially loved the direction of the movie and the hanging sensation so typical of substantial movies such as these, much like the ending of Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha.

However, despite all these praises with which I laud the movie, I do have a few complaints, thoguh they are neither the fault of the movie nor Alliance Francaise. Firstly, I would like to complain, rant and bitch about how noisy and disrespectful most of the audience were. This is a common problem with any event in Indonesia to which entrance is free. Most of these people aren't even interested in French culture and are only going to find a comfortable, air-conditioned place to get all randy on each other. Another thing that caused discomfort was that the people of Alliance Francaise were forced to cover the screen during some parts which involved nudity (not even proper nudity) and usage of narcotics, since the censorship board of Indonesia decided that we weren't mature enough to see these scenes without being obliged to follow them suit and prance around naked while with hypodermic syringes hanging off our arms.

On a different note, I was surfing around in somethingawful.com and came across these threads. I immediately exploded in laughter at how ridiculous these were:

I mean, don't get me wrong. I've got nothing against Christianity; my best friend is a devout Christian (and I'm sure she'll be shocked at the first image) and I went to a Methodist school and have very few complaints apart from the management of the school and the politics. However, I do have a thing against stupidity, extremism and narrow minds.

Hectic, yet void, week

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Thu, 07 May 2009 05:20:00 +0000

Lately, the Sino-Balinese post-mortem ceremonies have been intensifying, to the extent that I am in constant transit between Tabanan and Denpasar on a daily basis. The thing that's bugging me is that I don't see much of a point for all these ceremonies, especially for those who claim to be Buddhists, since the original purpose of these ceremonies is to purge the deceased of their "sins" so that they'd be able to move to a higher realm, to which they're shown by -- wait for it -- Sakyamuni Buddha! This is a completely outrageous belief for a Buddhist -- at least the Theravadins; I'm not too sure about the Mahāyāna perspective regarding this matter -- to hold, since as a Buddhist one is to relieve oneself of all attachments, most importantly of attachments to rites and rituals. On top of that, Buddhism teaches that all sentient beings will suffer or enjoy the karma they have sown for themselves, so that no amount of "prayer" (to which I, as a Buddhist, do not attach myself), rituals or any other acts of another sentient being can affect one's karma. It's the highest-ranking law of the universe. This is not, of course, to say that Buddhism does not believe in forgiveness, because forgiveness is required in Buddhism to break the chain of suffering a being experiences. By continuing a war, for example, one will sow karma which one will reap. As long as karma is still sown and not experienced, one is never freed from suffering. The monk giving a sermon last night mentioned something along these lines, to which I added my own two cents' worth, in a sermon I find myself agreeing to for the first time. After hearing this sermon, I felt much braver to go against the flow and decline offers to worship a deity, since this makes much more sense that wafting sticks of incense back and forth for good fortune. Anyway, I humbly ask the reader's thoughts and feelings regarding this matter in the form of a comment below.

Anyway, I want to continue this post with my two cents' worth of opinion about the development of the plot of Gossip Girl, so those who have not watched it up to the twenty-third episode and do not want the story spoiled for them should refrain from looking below, since I consider that the time is ripe enoguh for a review, having watched the episode as soon as it came out.

I will begin by expressing thanks and praise for the writers who have decided to place Michelle Trachtenberg -- as Georgina Sparks -- back in the show! I was completely in love with her acting as Dawn on Buffy and was severely torn between disappointment and gratitude when Georgina left the show at the end of Season One, since it was too hard to bid farewell to one of my favourite actresses, but I was also so annoyed by Georgina's character and would have screamed had they not taken her away at that time. I guess it just shows how amazing her acting skills are, since she is able to elicit such a violent response within the audience. For some time, I almost forgot that she was Michelle Trachtenberg, the innocent girl from Buffy, and was constantly cursing at my laptop monitor while watching, so credible was her acting. The story of her "finding Christ" and the subsequent loss of her religion is also brilliant! I have the old Georgina back, and she's pro-Serena! This is a cause for celebration, I say.

Another aspect I should laud the scriptwriters with praise for is the ... well ... script! It's incredibly witty lately, adn they have not disappointed me and the rest of Queen B's fans by making her lines the most hilarious in the show. I mean, honestly, the reference to "Jesus Take the Wheel" as a "Carrie Underwood song title -- not a life choice" is just brilliant! I also love Georgina's closing line which uses the well-recycled, yet aptly placed, "the bitch is back". Brilliant.

Short Post

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 07:54:00 +0000

Well, I'm finally back in the office blogging after an extremely hectic week, what with the wedding of my aunt, who is my father's first cousin. Like all Sino-Balinese events, this had to be huge, and as close family my family had to help out a lot. Since I found the constant shifting between Tabanan and Denpasar impractical, on top of it being exhausting given the late hours we had to travel back, so I decided to stay over there on impulse. I didn't bring anything, and it wasn't like me at all, but I had a tremendous lot of fun.

On top of that, today we had to drive the priest back home. In such Sino-Balinese events, usually both Chinese and Balinese Hindu priests are invited, and both chant their prayers one after another, since the Sino-Balinese have melded their culture with the locals.

Days in the Hospital

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 06:15:00 +0000

Upon reading the title of this post, a large number of my readers will express surprise in some form, whereas there will be a few who nod knowingly. Just to clarify everything, I would like to inform all of you that I am not hospitalised. However, I regret to admit that my sister is, due to an unfortunate case of dengue. Recalling my previous posts about my dislike for her, I feel extreme guilt and remorse for what I had written -- since she is now battling the disease with everything she can muster -- so much so that I slept over at the hospital yesterday and I drop by her ward every chance I get. Furthermore, I do not take kindly at the vulgar insults made to my sister in my chatbox by a certain person whom I refuse to name, especially given my sister's current condition. I have deleted said incriminating posts 0over and over again, only to have them reappear on my blog. Take a hint, for crying out loud! I do not expect to see such posts ever again. They became more infuriating when I opened my blog from the hospital, by my sister's bedside!

The news about my sister's illness came as a shock to everybody in the family, especially since she refused to say it outright on the phone for some time. Immediately, we gathered all her necessities and brought her to the hospital. I offered to stay for the first night, but my mother insisted that she stay instead. Thus, I offered to take care of her on Saturday, and I spent almost the whole day taking care of her, out of guilt. I can't help but think that this is somehow my fault and related to my rage at her the other day. I seem to have the ooposite of the Touch of Midas, since I seem to bring a downfall to everyone who crosses paths with me lately -- for example, Google's continuous draining of its money. I can't help thinking that I somehow brought this on her, that it was maybe a spell gone awry or something of that sort. Now, I don't even have the energy to type a post of the usual length, so I'll leave it here for now.

Back On My Feet ... With Brida in hand

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 07:13:00 +0000

If you know me personally, and have been checking this blog or my facebook/Twitter status periodically, the title of this post would require no explanation. To those who haven't, I'll give a, probably unsatisfactory and wanting, explanation: my Google AdSense account was disabled on Sunday morning. The e-mail was the worst-ever Easter present I had received in my whole life. I was raging and lashing out at everything constatly for the past few days, so much so that I skipped work yesterday and came in looking disheveled today. I even contemplated giving up blogging for good. However, I am trying to avoid bitching about AdSense on this blog, since it would be stupid to bitch about Google on a blog hosted and supported by Google. Anyway, after chatting -- and a phone call -- with a few of my close friends, I came to realise that some people, especially those near me, actually do enjoy reading my blog, and that this blog originally was -- and should be -- a means of communication between me, my friends and the rest of the world (whoever is interested in doing so, at least). I also came to realise that AdSense isn't the only adveertisement provider on the web.

This emotional upheaval sparked me to look for other ad providers for my blog, and I have found two. Since I am still pending approval from one of them, I will write about the other one, which is an ad provider based in ... Indonesia! (SURPRISE!) Anyway, this ad provider is called Kumpul Blogger, and appears to be generally trustworthy. Admittedly, the revenue trunover is not exactly as high as that of AdSense, since publishers earn a mere Rp. 300 per unique click (where unique means that multiple clicks from the same IP address will be ignored), but it's not as restrictive as AdSense, which prohibits its publishers from asking or giving incentive to their readers to click on the ads (not that I needed to, but I feared mentioning the ads at all in my posts in case that it would be counted as an "incentive"). Right now, I feel safe acknowledging the existence of these ads and reminding my readers that a click brings revenue to me. This site also has a referral system, which means that I would earn some revenue if others were to join this ad provider. If you're interested in making some small change from your blog ("tuppence for your thoughts", almost literally) you might be interested in joining this ad provider, preferrably with me as your referee, by clicking on this link. Not to mention that you'll earn revenue in Rupiah (though relatively little, admittedly)!

I would also like to point out that you will be able to advertise books on your blog once you join Kumpul Blogger, like the ad you see in my left-hand panel. However, I regret to inform a majority of those who are already eagerly moving their cursor towards that ad that this service is only available in Indonesia. Furthermore, should you wish to order a book different to that advertised, all you have to do is enter the code I've attached below into notes column when performing your purchase at kutukutubuku.com:

K1-6BA33A-5

This code is also available below the ad I've placed. I strongly urge you to purchase your books via kutukutubuku.com, since it's much more convenient than having to lug yourself all the way to the nearest Gramedia in your city. Think of all the money you could save on petrol! On top of that, you'd be doing this good friend of yours a service!

Speaking of books, in my wallowing in self-pity I chose to turn to the books for refuge. I finished up the A.D. 500 I borrowed from my ex-teacher. (Sir, if you're reading this, I'd like you to know that I had every intention of returning that book! I promise that the next time I drop by Singapore I'd take the book with me.) Having finished the book and found it a rather enjoyable read for someone as vindictive as I am due to the wit with which the author writes and his obvious mocking of his own persona, I turned to the prize I had hoped for since last year -- Paulo Coelho's Brida, which I bought a few weeks ago on one of my days out with my friends. The physical quality of the book is objectionable given it's exorbitant price, but I guess that's to be expected when we try to buy English books in a non-English-speaking country where its teenage citizens would rather destroy their minds on the rubbish chicklit instead of picking an informative book, or one on a journey of self-discovery, one of which is Brida.

From the very beginning of the novel, I felt a connection with the titular character, who like in many cases is also the protagonist, and I identified with her instantly. In fact, I had a feeling that I would do so even before I had lain hands on the actual book. Possibly, it was my reading of the blurb that made me feel this way, but reading Brida, or ratehr a part thereof, has taught me that there needn't be a rational explanation for this. This novel focuses more on emotions and our accepting them, without having to rationalise them, for therein lies true magic. The novel starts by describing Brida's journey to find the forest-dwelling Magus and thencefrom to find a way to learn magic in order to comprehend the world even more. It tells of the very real Tradition of the Moon and Tradition of the Sun, both of which are genuine covens in Wicca, and Brida's spiritual journey by choosing one of them. The book also contains very real references to common practices undertaken by a witch, such as the creation and consecration of one's athame, and the maintenance of one's Book of Shadows, which reminded me of my own disorganised Book lying in my wardrobe, hopefully hidden from prying eyes. Reading about how well Brida managed to keep her Book pricked my conscience heavily, because ever since I moved back to Bali the progress of my Book has almost stopped, and whenevr I acquired new spells I merely shoved them into my book without actually taking the time to write them in. Admittedly, it would have taken some time for me to transliterate these spells, but had I steeled myself to do so I would have competed this within a week.

Anyway, I'm ramblig. Back to Brida it is. The reader would also find it difficult to classify the novel as being a surrealistic text, given the verisimilitude provided by the constant reference to actual locations and major events, like the war between the Catholics and the Cathars one of Brida's past incarnation experienced. However, it is obvious that many would deny that the novel should be classified into realism, given the fact that the existence of witchcraft is being suppressed by the majority. This enigma makes the novel even more enjoyable for readers like me, but it may irritate some of the less open-minded readers.

All in all, it is difficult for me to speak for the public, as Coelho's novels do tend to raise some controversy.If you want to fully experience the book, I suggest that you buy it, preferrably from kutukutubuku.com using the code I've provided. That's all!

Unbiased Recap of Last Night's Air Mata Cinta

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 03:12:00 +0000

Yesterday, I returned from the gym in a hurry so that I could catch our favourite actress on TV, having been told that the show started at 19.00 WIB (timezone to the west of Bali), which means 20.00 WITa (local time). It turned out, however, that the show only started at half past eight, for some completely unknown reason. I suspect it's the unpopularity of the star of the show.

Anyway, those who are my friends on facebook, or those who follow me on twitter, would have noticed the relief with which I posted my status update when the show finally started. Unfortunately, however, we were not given even a glimpse of our favourite ~~slut~~ star nor her non-elite-yet-pretending-to-be-elite co-star for the first fifteen minutes (at least I think it was fifteen minutes) of the show, notwithstanding the show opening which was sprinkled heavily with recklessly-thrown-in pictures of these so-called artists. Thence, the show started with a scene in which a family of three, consisting of two parents and a child by the name of Laura (whose appearances in the show I suspect would be incredibly brief), are travelling by car. As you would probably have guessed from the title and genre of the show, dark things are in store for this family. A truck swerved by the car, causing it to fall into a nearby ravine, killing off the father of the family and ending this actor's brief appearance as an extra. The mother is still alive, but is crushed by the weight of the car. Miraculously, yet predictably, Laura survives with nary a scratch on her body, despite her torn clothes, and her mother insists that she save herself, which as everybody can predict she does. As soon as Laura moves a considerable distance from the car, it explodes in obviously-fake-CGI flames. the scene switches to show a woman receiving a call in an office to show that, actually, the "accident" may not have been an accident at all! *GASP* Who could have seen that coming? It turns out that the "accident" had been planned by this woman for some time, in order to lay her hands on the inheritance this family would have left. She was then informed of the fact that Laura was missing and that she would lose all her inheritance should Laura show up, but she dismisses it, certain that Laura had also met a cruel fate.

The scene switches back to Laura, crying by the roadside, when a pleasant poor person (presumably a farmer, though he seems rich enough to ride a mountain bike) notices her and befriends her. In the end, he adopts her as his daughter, despite his wife's constant protests that they already had a son, and re-names her Cinta (Laura and Cinta? Why does that sound familiar? Oh, it's Cinta Laura! OMG she's like the best star ever, or at least that's what she wants us to think). As is typical of the genre, Cinta had a tough time growing up and she was constantly abused by her foster mother and brother, who despise her almost as much as the majority of the Indonesian population despise the actress herself. Her dreams to continue her education by enrolling at the local university were crushed, as her foster mother forbids her foster father to give her the money she needs to enrol, since her brother requires the money to start his own business after having dropped out of school. I should also emphasise that Cinta (the character, not the real actress) is supposed to be the top student of her school (something I doubt the actress would be able to do if the medium of education had been in Indonesian). Typical of the genre, the show displays her foster mother's inability to understand why Cinta deserves more than her brother, who always flunked school, resulting in the torture Cinta has to undergo every day. The situation worsens for her when her foster father, who is the only person in the family who cares about her, suffers from stroke, which disables him from moving. The family cannot afford to move him to a hospital, although it's not as if they wanted to in the first place. Being a villain in the show, (I hate that they have to have villains and heroes in these shows! Can't the scriptwriters let humans be humans? That's why I like shows without a hero(ine) surrounded by evil characters) her brother adopts a qué será será attitude towards the whole situation, shrugging it off by saying that he would die sooner or later anyway.

According to the story, Cinta has a good friend by the name of Dimas, who is terminally ill, although the show never actually specifies his illness, who is also friends with Rafka, played by the elite-schoolkid-wannabe from some random school. Rafka is supposedly a kid from an elite school (but we all know what kind of school he comes from. I mean, the Wikipedia article only has one page!) and is the son of the evil woman who inherited all of Laura's money. He was skateboarding all over the campus when he comes across Cinta who was pleading with the Front Office Lady who kept refusing her application due to her inability to pay the tuition fee. This pseudo-elite guy feels sorry for her and agrees to pay her tuition fee of Rp. 1.5 million under one condition -- that she give him Rp. 15 000 which she is supposed to earn by pretending to be a blind beggar on the streets. She reluctantly complies.

When she returns home, she finds that her father's stroke has reached an even more critical condition, and he dies right in front of their eyes. She is forced afterwards to do the ironing, but she ends up calling her friend Dimas who is in the hospital. He decides not to tell her that he's in the hospital, and this enrages her. Her foster mother catches her, and destroys her cellphone, all the whole hurling a plethora of verbal insults at her. (YAY for the foster mother! This is why I wanted to watch this show -- to satisfy my sadistic tendencies by seeing her tortured like this, although her acting isn't exactly convincing.) Soon afterwards, Dimas also reaches critical condition, and his mother keeps trying to contact Cinta, failing in doing so because Cinta's phone has been reduced into pieces by her foster mother, who locks her in her room, by the way. Seeing this chance, her brother snatches the key from his mother while she is asleep and sneaks into Cinta's room in an attempt to rape her. I mean, how cliché can this get? She somehow manages to subdue this burly young adult with a few punches and kicks from her frail frame, which seems extremely strange to me. The commotion wakes her mother up and Cinta somehow manages to escape from both of them and tries to hitch a ride to the hospital to find her friend. She manages to get two men to stop and allow her to enter. However, they take her to the woods instead and try to rape her. (Oh, come on! What's with the excessive raping? Is the scriptwriter in heat or something?)

By an extremely improbable stroke of luck, the pseudo-elite schoolkid happens to be riding his motorcycle through the same woods. He stumbles across them and almost beat the two guys up and rescue Cinta. However, he took a blow from a baseball bat to the back of his neck, making him fall unconscious. (Correct me if I am wrong, but shouldn't such a strong blow fracture the spinal cord, thereby paralysing him?) The two guys then leave Cinta and Rafka there. CInta somehow manages to catch a cab and bring him to his apartment. Upon exiting the apartment, dark rumbling clouds bring a sense of foreboding, and signify the coming of rain. She then dashes through the rain to get to the hospital, but she is too lat, since Dimas dies and all attempts to resuscitate him are in vain. (The weird thing is that the doctor sends a jolt to his stomach instead of his chest.) When she gets there, she finds him dead. (SEE? This is so typical! All of the people she loves and cares about die in the first episode.) The next day, she attends his funeral with the same clothes she wore when she ran away from home.

Right after the funeral, she returns home to find her stepmother throwing away all of her belongings. Cinta pleads with her mother not to do this, but her mother merely laughs at her and accuses her of prostitution (a job I think the actress is well suited for). Her brother then encourages the stepmother to burn all of her belongings and she did nothing but cry instead of trying to salvage what could be salvaged. again, fake CGI flames were used to try and convince the unconvinced audience that the fire is real. Her evil foster mother laugh at her while saying the sentence that I suppose gave birth to the title of the show, "Sekarang hidupmu akan penuh air mata, Cinta, air mata!" ["Now your life will be filled with tears, Cinta, tears!] while emphasising on the last few syllables in an overly-dramatic manner. The episode ends here.

All in all, it was a very interesting episode, what with Cinta's hilarious pronunciation. I think that the scriptwriters intentionally infused her dialogue with plosives and fricatives so that the audience can enjoy a good dose of humour from her retarded accent. I mean, it was distracting, yet hilarious, to hear words like "jyanjyi" and "jyahat" ion extremely serious moments. Keep up the bad accent, Chincha!

I would love to see Air Mata Cinta, the real thing, I mean.

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 06:20:00 +0000

Today, I'm going to write about a hilarious TV show I watched last night, which is the Me VS Mom show on Trans, which I usually avoid watching, since I don't usually find these types of shows entertaining. However, yesterday's show featured a celebrity of whom my friends and I are great ~~loathers~~ fans, namely that favourite pseudo-socialite, pseudo-Indonesian, completely ~~nauseating~~ enchanting Cinta Laura Kiehl whom my friends and I affectionately call Cinta Laura deKiehl. You see, she became a humongous ~~object of disgust~~ hit in Indonesia after she released her first unofficial album Mana Ujyan, Gada Ojyek due to her ~~retarded~~ intelligent manner of speech. For those who are unfamiliar to this earth-shaking sensation, which means that you're probably not Indonesian in the first place, you should click on this link to familiarise yourself with this ~~dirtbag whore~~ coveted princess.

Anyway, last night I hoped to see Her Majesty the Queen C (where C stands for both Cinta and Cabrona) humiliate herself and -- guess what! -- I got my time's worth watching her rage incessantly -- in rapid and presumably-thoroughly-incomprehensible-to-the-crew English, no less -- at the crew of Me VS Mom when they tried to frighten her mother using snakes. I managed to catch random phrases like "What do you think you're doing? That's my mom!", You guys are such losers" and "Let go of the snake or I'm gonna punch you!" in the cacophony that escaped her ~~extremely over-pouted~~ lips ~~that resemble those of an octopus~~. ~~The show gave me so much more that satisfaction that I exploded with mirth, laughing so much that I fell to the floor, literally.~~ I felt extremely sorry for her, so much so that I cried for her ~~while laughing very hard~~ and my stomach hurt ~~due to excessive laughter~~.

She is the object of my ~~ridicule~~ adoration due to the fluency with which she speaks English, which she claims is due to her being born and raised in Germany, thus making it her first language. ~~(Is anyone else inwardly saying "WHAT!?" here?)~~ Of course, I think that it's amazing that, despite her many years in Germany, she doesn't speak any German. I mean, it's very hard not to go with the flow. She's a princess who stayed true to her ideals of speaking English and, I presume, would not have liked to be bothered with such trivialities such as learning the language of the country in which she resides or the country from which her parents came from. I should know; I grew up in Australia and tried my very best to ignore the influence of English, trying to speak Indonesian all the while, until I finally grew tired of it and succumbed to the temptation, but this beloved princess of ours didn't! She was born and raised in a country without speaking the local language! I just can't think of a more ~~idiotic~~ admirable thing!

Of course, I also identify with her inability to adapt to the local language here, since she wasn't brought up in an Indonesian-speaking family, which occurred to me as well. However, I debased myself by succumbing to the local tradition of speaking the local language, whereas she still holds on firmly to the belief that the Indonesian language is for the poor and stupid and shows her regalia by speaking a strongly-accented version of Indonesian. I honestly couldn't think of a better manner of dealing with her current situation.

Incidentally, tonight will be the premiere of her TV soap opera by the title of Air Mata Cinta (which roughly means The Tears of Cinta), of which this ~~skankabrona~~ beautiful princess is the star. I'm so excited that I even set an alarm on my phone so I can catch this show as soon as it starts! I just can't wait to see this show ~~so I can see her humiliating herself in public again~~.

So, catch you all later. And as Cinta says "Rock on"!

By the way, if you're reading this and you happen to be Cinta Laura, the aboveposted views do not reflect the views my friends and I hold. ~~If you want to know what we think of you, you should read in particular the sections that are struck through.~~

Overnight Stay

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 07:52:00 +0000

Last night, my family and I went back to my grandma's house in Tabanan, since today is one of those days in which it is tradition to clean up and beautify the graves of our ancestors, which is followed by spreading flowers and sprinkling fragrant water over the graves. Since the event was scheduled to start at 7, we decided to spend the night in Tabanan, so that we would be able to make it on time.

I spent most of my waking hours las night on eBuddy chatting with a rather eclectic crowd, ranging from a social call by A (my roommate for the last two years I spent in Singapore), a very enjoyable - and long - catching-up with another A (a good friend of mine whom I haven't seen for four years), a short conversation with E (another good friend of mine in Jakarta) and N's (a friend I've known since my first schoolday after my trans-continental move) attempts to persuade me to move to the gym she frequents, despite the extra cost. As a result of this, my phone battery took a free fall to a critical state and I could not compete with my friends who were either using proper computers or phones with qwerty keypad, resulting in very sore thumbs afterwards.

Fortunately, I had with me a charger, albeit a non-original one, so I plugged it in and watched my phone charge in satisfaction. Unfortunately, my satisfaction proved unsatisfactory, since in 15 minutes the electricity completely blacked out, causing me frustation. Due to this attachment to my phone, the same attachment that most modern teenagers share, I barely slept a wink, waking up at half past 4 in the morning. In an hour, the electricity returned, though I still couldn't get my non-original charger to recharge my phone battery. I concluded that my charger was the root of last night's evils, a conclusion supported by a strange rattle I heard when I shook the charger.

In the end, I resigned to fate and dealt with my low-battery phone for the whole day. Now, I'm on my way back home to Denpasar and to a proper charger. It's been such a hectic day, and I haven't got to the cleaning up graves part!

My days in the Gym

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 03:37:00 +0000

Yes, to those who are gazing in wonder and amazement at the title of the post, I do go to the gym and have been doing so for alternate days since Tuesday. Not that I want to develop my body to the levels of buffness of people like Bryan, or our favourite "Personal Trainer" (Indonesian scholars of my batch and the batch directly below mine would understand completely as to whom I am referring). Actually, I only want to speed up my weight loss programme as well as toughen my body up a little bit, so that I could be useful in menial jobs -- that and so I don't look like a wobbling water balloon whenever I move around. This is the reason that my body has been aching since my first session. It feels like I was a non-elite schoolkid starring in a TV series alongside a pseudo-socialite bimbo (HINT: G*e*n A*i*s*i*) who was caught and took a heavy beating from elite schoolkids (HINT: kids in my school). No, really, I feel like I was beaten up by The Rock or something. My whole body, especially my upper body, aches like it has never ached before. This actually brings to mind this one time when the security guard -- the Borat one, no less -- at school caught me trying to do pull-ups after prep. He ended up telling me that my upper body was too weak ... yadda yadda yadda ... and somehow the conversation turned into his life story.

Anyway, getting back on track, my trainer kept insinuating that my weight loss wuld be accelerated if I took some supplements, something I am almost completely against. The only type of supplements I currently take consist in the form of Omega-3 tablets. I am not going to inhibit nature's course in my body by taking any other artificial supplements, tempting as it may sound. Hence, I gave my instructor a flat-out "No!" which happened to surprise him given my initially-calm and composed outward appearance. Anyway, in order to maximise weight loss, he told me to go on one of those exercise bikes for half an hour, placing me next to a truckload of overweight and wrinkled aunties who were trying to lose weight as well. It was so humiliating.

I got a massage yesterday after my gym session, since the masseuse insisted that it would help alleviate the pain I was going to feel this morning. Well, apparently the massage didn't work, because my body still hurt as hell this morning. I couldn't stand the pain, though I still trudged off to the office with extremely sore triceps which inhibit my movement and make prolonged typing either impossibly difficult or excruciating, depending on how I reacted to the pain.

Oh well, I guess that's all I have today, because it's time for me to walk home from the office for lunch.

Oh ... the stupidity!

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 07:43:00 +0000

Before you read this post, I'll need you to check out this article upon which I happened to stumble this morning. It describes the "colossal screw-up" committed by UC San Diego. Even if this was an honest mistake -- and it would be completely unforgivable if it weren't -- the applicants would be completely devastated to find out that they got rejected after receiving a welcome e-mail which definitely broke an intense wait, filled with hopes and fears. However, if this event were to occur to me, being the forgiving and kind person that I am, I would not get angry. Neither would I be vindictive about it. No, I would be pissed off and vengeful! I would completely be beyond anger! Maybe I've been watching too much Gossip Girl, but I would destroy the whole faculty of the school if I were in the shoes of a rejected applicant. Having had my application top my dream university return as "unsuccessful", especially when I knew it was due to my own stupidity, I can hazard a guess that the intensity of the emotions they felt must have been incredible compared to my own, although I could empathise with them and know that at the very least I was somewhere close to how they felt.

I mean, really, how hard is it to check the addresses that were due to receive the e-mail? I don't think that this could be blamed on anything, except for the sheer ignorance of the Admissions Office. Even the huge recession America's facing cannot be held accountable. After all, academic institutions are almost immune to recession, since they will always reap a helluva lot of dinero as long as people still have children. This also means that they can't possibly be understaffed. Que estupido.

I can't even begin to express how sorry I feel for the rejected applicants. If it really were me, I wouldn't even be capable of expressing my rage/disappointment/grief/any other kind of emotional upheaval. I can barely fo it now. Ugh, I am just so full of ANGER! *Imagine me cursing at you in the same way that Dorota cursed at Chuck and Serena in her native tongue.*

More Social Networking News

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 08:05:00 +0000

Recently, and I mean within the last six hours, I joined two more social networking sites, as if my facebook and friendster accounts aren't enough, though to be truthful I've almost completely killed my friendster account. It's a matter of time before they actually delete it for me, saving me the trouble of doing so. Anyway, I've just joined Twitter and MySpace, since many people outside of Asia have stopped, or are in the process of stopping, their facebook usage, after the revision of its privacy agreement, eliciting much controversy and criticism. It doesn't matter, really, as long as extremely personal information isn't posted there. On top of that, I love facebook since it, in Elden's words, is "the stalker's Swiss army knife", conveyed to me via facebook chat, for your information. As a result, gossip material has increased greatly for my social circle.

Nevertheless, it is important to go with the flow. Since many people are against facebook, I've created an alternative connection on another, less controversial, social networking site. After all, one must go with the flow in order to lead it, or appear in front, at the very least. That's why I've started using MySpace, though I know nobody who uses it. If you do use MySpace, and are interested in adding me, just add me.

As for Twitter, it works in the same way as facebook status updates do. It can also be made to appear in various places, such as facebook status updates, the left-hand column of this blog, and my MySpace page. I started using Twitter only because hotforwords started using it. I was curious, and I finally gave in to the pressures of social networking. I find it a better way to stay connected with others, and it is definitely more efficient than facebook.

I guess that's all for today's post. It's past office hour and I want to go home already.

My Bitchy Witchiness, or Witchy Bitchiness

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 06:00:00 +0000

Today's post will be in attempt to bring my developments as a witch back into the scope of the blog, since for almost a year this topic has never been discussed. I mean, it would be a waste to have that incredible picture hanging above a post that doesn't even acknowledge its existence, rambling about the busy day I had or my views on a certain topic of discussion. I know of my friends who read this blog only because they're my friends and are uninterested in how witchy I am, so I'd have to apologise for this post, since it will probably be of no interest to some. Others, however, may find it interesting. After all, it's only a matter of taste.

Moving on, I've been looking for a place to ramble on how I can't perform any spells or rituals here in Bali, due to various reasons: my family treats my room like a hallway and move through it as if it were one. With that kind of traffic, I can't exactly hope for the privacy to which I was entitled in Singapore. I mean, what would they do if they saw me waving a double-edged knife in the air? What's worse, things are completely different here in Bali, since Bali is south of the equator, whereas Singapore is to the north of it. This makes it rather complicated when I try to cast a circle, since I'd have to change deosil from clockwise to anticlockwise and widdershins vice versa. This also means that I'd have to cast my circle anticlockwise, something I've only ever done once. On top of that, I'd still have to reverse the directions for the elements of Earth and Fire, making things very complicated when I call the quarters. There would also be incantations that I'd need to change and a lot more work to do. Were I to stay in Australia, it would have been easy since both Bali and Australia are south of the equator.

This problem is also compounded by the highly-perceptible presence of spirits in the Balinese culture. I know that I'm supposed to utilise the help from these spirits in the form of their energies, but I'm not exactly familiar with them. Given the open nature of my bedroom (those who have been there would know what I;m talking about) the traffic my room receives is not always tangible or even perceptible, if you know what I mean. I could do a cleansing of the room, but that would have to come with an explanation to my parents about how my room smells strangely as if I had smoked, making smudging unfeasible. There are, of course, other ways of cleansing the room but, once again, my family must be taken to consideration. Even if I were to finish cleansing, I would still have to cast a protective circle, and I've explained how troublesome that'd be.

Some might ask why I don't just copy out one of Crowley's pentacles (the Fifth pentacle of Mars) and hang it on my doors and windows. Well, if you're one of those asking about it, you've probably been too influenced by Supernatural. Although I must admit that the show is informative to some extent, if taken too seriously it could be misleading. The real process is much more complicated than that, involving incantations and the summoning of a different kind of spirits, enslaving them through the symbol and incantation (read the Key of Solomon in detail if it interests you). This, I find, is a very inhumane treatment of spirits that I find repulsive. I work with spirits; I don't lord over them. On top of that, it has the potential of trapping the spirits familiar to me, so I don't agree with the way the symbol is used in Supernatural.

The only thing that I've done in terms of witchcraft while in Bali was to develop my Book of Shadows, since it takes some time to transliterate my original writings into Theban. Now that I've lost my Dorothy Morrison book, I find this a difficult task. Since I was in Singapore, I already had a compendium of spells that I found from various sources, although they were already written in English. Now, it's my job to transliterate them into Theban into my Book.

Well, I hope this post satisfies your curiosity!

My take on 90210

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 06:54:00 +0000

Initially, due to harsh comments on the show, I decided against watching the new re-make of 90210, especially because I had no idea that Shannen Doherty (the girl who ~~plays~~ played Prue on Charmed) would be back. There was just so much bad blood between her and Aaron Spelling (I had completely no idea that he's dead!) that I never expected her to return to the show's re-make. I absolutely adore her! She's also a brilliant actress, a fact that is evident in the third season of Charmed, when everybody was aware of her animosity towards Alyssa Milano, the news of which spread like wildfire, although there was no hint whatsoever of this animosity in her portrayal of Prue. As I have said before, brilliant. I have neglected to say that she is one of the best-looking actresses I know, although I didn't realise this when I watched Charmed for the first time at the tender age of nine. As soon as puberty kicked in, however, my impression of her changed almost completely.

Back to topic, 90210 started off, in my opinion, in a manner not unike that of the other shows of its genre, like Gossip Girl and The O.C. One might even say that the show is practically a rip off of the other shows. However, the beauty is in the details, as my favourite English A1 teacher has always emphasised in class. The relationships present in the show are not exactly the same as that of Gossip Girl, since we see that Ethan and Naomi are protected by, in Silver's words, "an impenetrable bubble". Moreover, I could hardly blame the scriptwriters for the opening, since the opening of this re-make depends heavily on the goings-on in the original Beverly Hills: 90210, such as Harry's re-entrance to Beverly Hills and his relationship with his old flame, Tracy. The presence of a gossip blog is also inevitable, as the lack thereof would not reflect the current life of upper-class, spoilt-yet-tech-savvy teenagers, although I do admire the scriptwriters' attempt at originality by making the author of the blog a character of the show, as opposed to the omniscient Gossip Girl, thereby adding an important touch of humanity to the blog and the character. This also allows other characters to interact with the author and negotiate with her, as seen from Naomi's pleading Silver to let her family scandal go. I also lve the constant reference to real-life names and brands (say, PerezHilton.com), which lend credibility to the plot, attracting the audience even further by implying that the show is a part of their lives. We see this, to a smaller extent being applied in Gossip Girl in the occasional introduction of terms such as "the red Valentino" (not Tino!) and "Mary Kay Letourneau". On top of that, I have to confess that I absolutely adore their usage of the word "sidekick", which made me look it up in Urban Dictionary. I had no idea there was a product that goes by that name. This also prompted me to call mine my "sidekick", although it's not as glamorous, despite the fact that it has just as many (if not more) features than the actual "sidekick".

Another reason that made me fall completely in love with the show is the portrayal of Naomi, which brings a certain nostalgia to mind, namely that of Charisma Carpenter's character, Cordelia Chase, (did anyone but me notice the crazy alliteration?) on Buffy, providing a similar impression of how profoundly superficial and multifaceted the character is. As Buffy fans should know, Cordelia (not Lear's daughter, FYI) is originally portrayed as the completely bimbotic queen bee of her minions, but this image is slowly shed as she becomes a more active member of the Scooby Gang, especially during and a short time after her relationship with Xander. We see that she, surprisingly, is kind at heart and, even more surprisingly, does well on standardised tests, in reference to her SAT results. Her father's sudden unemployment, and her reaction thereto, also casts her in a much more mature light.

While writing this post, I was researching on the T-Mobile Sidekick. I have decided that I need it very, very, very much!

Hailstorms in Ubung?

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 06:01:00 +0000

Initially, I planned on posting about rather mundane things, like my views on the new Gossip Girl episode, my take on the first season of Ghost Whisperer -- which I have recently completed -- and its ending and my need to watch Dollhouse - a new series directed by the famous Joss Whedon (you may remember him from Buffy the Vampire Slayer). However, all this changed when my mother came to me today while I was on the exercise machine, trying my best to burn as much as I could before going to work. She had just come upstairs after reading today's newspaper and told me terrible news: there had been a hailstorm in Ubung, a region of Bali not too far from where I live. Ironically, when the cloud that brought forth this hailstorm passed over my house, I was hoping that it would burst into rain right there and then to give the residents of the area (especially me) some relief from the sweltering heat. Fortunately, this was not the case. The hailstorm finally uprooted a few signs and destroyed a number of houses in Ubung when it broke loose.

Having experienced a hailstorm before, I am well aware that this is no small matter. I lived through the 1999 Sydney hailstorm, one of the most severe hailstorms in Australian history. I would not fancy going through the traumatic experience of another bout of having my windows shattered with my family and me huddled against a corner in the hopes that the glass pieces don't fly towards us. Even though the storm in Ubung may not have been as sever as the one I endured, I completely empathise with those who have had their homes destroyed in the storm. I find that this storm was Nature's way of telling us to stop destroying the Earth, the Great Mother of all things. It's nigh time that we cease damaging the Earth. We must limit our carbon dioxide emission. The smallest change could be extremely helpful. We could all save the Earth by reducing our usage or private motor vehicles whenever possible and to limit our air-con usage. As a result of practising this hermit-like life, I rely on rain to provide the cooling I need. Were others to practise this, especially those who live their whole life in air-conditioned rooms, we wouldn't need so much cooling in the first place. Let's just think about that for today.

On a completely separate note, I would like to proclaim my adoration for Anggun. I loved her new album. I've always been a fan of artists who are multi-talented and intelligent enough to speak many languages. The top three in my list are BoA, Anggun and Agnes Monica, all of whom can speak at least three languages. I've placed Anggun's French video clip below. Hope that you enjoy it!

Life is full of suffering, but I'm a masochist.

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 05:08:00 +0000

Apparently, my 7-kg weight loss is insignificant, so much so that when I spent Saturday evening trying to shop at Kuta Square there were still few clothes that I could buy. The few I could were either fashion catastrophes or ridiculously overpriced. In the end, after travelling through the whole of Kuta Square, I only managed to buy one lousy white polo shirt. It seemed as if every shop attendant who saw me was condemning me to a life with no clothes that can ever fit me. To worsen the situation, we had dinner at KFC. Oh, how life is just full of temptations. Afterwards, we continued our sojourn to Centro Mall, where we lounged around at Black Canyon Cafe after a whole evening's worth of walking. It's a shame we didn't get to go for karaoke, since apparently on weekends it's imperative to buy a packet instead of just going there to enjoy one hour's worth of shouting my lungs out. Fortunately, I finally came across Paulo Coelho's Brida in Periplus. If you've been paying any attention to my older posts, you would know very well that this is the book I have been craving since its release. Immediately, I took out my newly-earned salary to pay for this book. Currently, I have to finish this psychology book on manipulation I recently bought, after which I have to clear 450 A.D. before finally resting my hands on this coveted book.

Anyway, I'm not in the mood to write much today. I'm still tired from the lack of sleep I had last night, since my ~~maid~~ domestic helper went home to Buleleng for the approaching Galungan, resulting in my early-morning trips to the local wet market and helping my mother with household chores. I did leave the cooking to her though; I can never be trusted to make tempe.

Shameless sycophancy and shameless advertising

noreply@blogger.com (Wiccan Wonder) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 04:57:00 +0000

Yesterday, a rather famous chain of malls in Indonesia by the name of M*t*h*r* (HINT: it's "sun" in Indonesian) launched a one-day sale of almost all brands up to 50%. If they were honest enough to admit this little fact and proclaim it unabashedly on their advertisements, I might not have felt so bad about shopping there. In truth, here is a picture of one of their posters:

If you look closely at the picture above, you may (or may not) see the word "hingga" (roughly meaning "up to" in English) perched neatly and surreptitiously on top of the "5". In doing so, this chain of malls not only indemnifies itself against complaints regarding their reduced reductions, but they also admit shamelessly to using unscrupulous means to increase their sales. I quickly snapped a picture using my phone to avoid trouble with the security, but I was enraged by the fact that the owners of these malls lack moral scruples and enough shame to disguise their lack thereof. However, I shall stop being a hypocrite and complaining about their advertising even after I've bought a shirt on discount.

I find that sycophancy, especially that of the saccharine kind, also falls under the category of shameless advertising. Usually, I dislike sycophants (those who know me well enough are well aware of this fact and the fact that I love to be myself, not that I can help doing so), but a few days ago something occurred, and this event made the thought of sycophancy even more loathsome. Let me begin by setting the story in one of the high schools in Denpasar. Specifically, the school that is first numerically. (Yes, Boon, it's your former school!) I was helping the recruitment team with the tests and interviews that they needed to conduct. Naturally, I came across my old teacher, who is now a principal at my old school, guiding her selected troop of students there. As nature would have it, we struck up a conversation and reminisced about the past, with teachers from other schools (namely the host school and the school that is third numerically in Denpasar) glaring in envy at the close relationship we had. Apparently, these teachers assumed that I was one of the teachers in our beloved school, judging from my affable and adorable, yet authoritative, personality and my presence at the recruitment tests. In a shameless effort to suck up to me, these teachers interrupted our conversation and started introducing themselves to me. They then told me that they were so proud to have a Balinese working in our beloved school. Obviously, I denied this and straightened things out by informing them of my status as an ex-student.

Upon hearing this, these leeches immediately let go of me, their faces filled with obvious disdain at their wasted effort. They immediately left my teacher and me, hateful murmurs rising from their now-bitter tongues. I even caught one of them saying "I thought that I could get him to accept my students." Apparently, the attitude of these glory-seeking teachers need to be fixed. To make matters worse, out of the three students accepted, two were from the host school and one was from the third school. It was horrific news to me.

However, to counterbalance this calamity, the team treated me to lunch twice, so all in all it wasn't such a bad recruitment trip after all. Ha ha.