err .. I think I didn't order a bowl-of-melancholy-to-go last night ...

This is it. I still need all this to sink in. Sink. In. OK, I'm ready.

This, I think can be the last time that I'm writing an entry for this blog from this chair, at this house, in this town, on this temperature, in this country. Long story short, I'm flying back to Jakarta tomorrow morning.

Suitcases are packed. I'm scared to death that it will be overpacked (of course it is - on a non-related issue, Firefox 2.0 introduces a spelling check??) and I have to leave out some stuff here which of course I don't know what. The pants, T-shirt, Jackets, that I can't live without, well, I can't live without. I have to again apply my sister's method, I think. I have to choose between two favorites and stop being a crybaby about it.

I felt really sad for leaving. I don't know whether it is because of the fact that I hate goodbyes, or simply because everything in Hamburg had started to grow on me. I am torn, really torn. I mean, of course it will always be pleasing to know that in November you don't have to hustle everytime you're walking to keep yourself warm, or wearing a three-layered clothes, or treading in your wet shoes. In the mean time, I felt like I haven't told stories about Hamburg enough, I haven't experienced Hamburg enough. And such crap like that.

I felt really happy for leaving. I've had enough of this student-life. ENOUGH. I want to be part of the crowd of employment market as soon as possible, build a career and start my own life. Why not doing it here, you ask? Well, there are hundreds of reasons to start with. But one of the most basic ones, is that the opportunity is not there yet.

I felt really scared for leaving. You know, scared of starting something new. Starting something on my own, relying solely on what I've been told and taught (which I can tell you that it's not much), and wondering, "Is it really like what I've been thinking about?"

I felt extremely dilemmatic about leaving. I kept too many promises. I don't know if I can keep them all. And, eventhough I'm sure it's only the best for us all, but I don't see these parties that I gave my promises to (and promise me something in return of course), are ready to give 100% to keep it as well. I have to let myself wait and see.

So, just yesterday, I can't count how many times I streaked a smile on my face everytime I'm thinking about the things that I will be doing in the next few days. At the same time, I had to hold myself together like tens of times so that I wouldn't cry, and I failed three times. Already.

If we can vote what's the worst invention of humankind, my vote goes to goodbye. (I'm not sure whether goodbye is a human invention, though. Heh.)

today's one liner + its post post post scriptum

Well, err .. ummm ... Lani would definitely get a haircut shortly after.

PS: I hope I didn't blab too much. :D

PPS: The title for this clip on youtube is "Jomblo Vol. 13 of 13", I hope you know what's this about.

PPPS: I know it's much better to post a full entry like right now before the afterglow fades, but I have a patient to attend. :( So, hopefully the euphoria is still there tomorrow morning.

baking adventure

What .... do you think will happen when a man was not allowed to eat, or drink, or smoke for a whole day, but he really wanted to do stuff rather than slumping on his chair the whole time?

Why, he bakes a cake, of course.

The problem is, the man never baked a cake in his whole life. So a bit of loggin-in and searching in some sites with recipes brought him to an After-Eight Cheese Cake. And the man tried stopping writing in third person from this sentence on.

I was kinda tempted with the After-Eight thing rather than the cheese cake, though .. Hehehe..

Some ingenious facts that I found while baking:

1. I know that there are two types of that rotating thing (beater?) for mixer. I think in Indonesian, I called it, the spiral ones, and the non-spiral ones. The funny thing is that I don't recall that I have used the spiral ones prior yesterday, but I based the name on the spiral ones anyway. Spiral is much easier to identify. In German they are called ... ummm Rührbesen (non-spiral) and Knethaken (spiral).

2. I didn't know that you eventually will use your hand in making dough. I thought you'd only have to beat it, crash-boom-bang, it's done. Apparently, one must use their hands to make the dough ... you know, stick together (Gosh, how awful is my English?). It's like playing claydough, dough. I mean though. Thank God I washed my hands beforehand.

3. Beating white eggs into egg-snow (this is a literal translation from the German word, Eischnee. I don't know if there is an English word.) is so much fun! I can do it the whole day. Separating the whities from the yellowies is not as much fun though.. :(

4. Placing the dough onto the Springform (I don't know the English word!) was obnoxious. You know, one must know how much you need for the base, and for the sides. I miscalculated of course. And that made the base butt-ugly.


5. All and all my triumph came when all I need to do is put the pre-cake to the oven, and pray to God that the oven won't screw it up. And the oven screwed it up. :( Too bad I don't have a picture of the sorta screwed cake. I think it was too hot.


6. That dude, named Barney (B is for Barney, not Bie), claimed it as soon as it was done, ate half of it (half of it is still in the fridge). I, was still fasting when the cake was done. Eating it is a no-no to me. Hehehe.. >:)


The After-Eight-y taste was the real reward for me.

nostalgicismity

Must. Build. Time machine.


PS: Please visit Foxtrot website to check previous editions and so on. Or subscribe to Foxtrot through gocomics.com.

PPS: Yes. Alright. My card is read. I didn't exactly fly fighter kites during its season so often like other "boys". But reading this strips brought so many memories about playing flying fighter kites with other "boys" anyway. And chasing losing fighter kites. Now that, I did that.

What brings the memories is the fact that my house, which has the tallest water tower in my dwelling ... umm ... residence, was often being used as a basecamp to fly fighter kites by the "boys". What did I do when they were flying them? I have no idea anymore, now. Perhaps cheerleading. Defensifely I say, in a boyish kinda way.

OH, MY. GOD!!

today's one liner

Ew!