<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874</id><updated>2011-12-04T18:08:20.876+07:00</updated><title type='text'>bieourself</title><subtitle type='html'>written things of encounters within my may-not-be-pleasant-but-beautiful life, with no particular logical thin red line</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>535</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6310537341380095410</id><published>2011-04-03T08:34:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T08:39:04.073+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go West</title><content type='html'>There is nothing in the world I would rather do than watching &lt;a href="http://www.priscillaonbroadway.com/"&gt;Priscilla on Broadway&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wB1DqANPyTs/TZfPF1KiphI/AAAAAAAAASg/oRLMuyXT7Dw/s1600/pricsilla.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wB1DqANPyTs/TZfPF1KiphI/AAAAAAAAASg/oRLMuyXT7Dw/s320/pricsilla.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591165161481348626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Come on, Singapore. Do your magic!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Image courtesy of priscillaofbroadway.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6310537341380095410?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6310537341380095410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6310537341380095410&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6310537341380095410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6310537341380095410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2011/04/go-west.html' title='Go West'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wB1DqANPyTs/TZfPF1KiphI/AAAAAAAAASg/oRLMuyXT7Dw/s72-c/pricsilla.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3782983465471411071</id><published>2010-12-10T07:46:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T07:50:18.792+07:00</updated><title type='text'>someone at e! online needs to learn how to use twitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1pt; text-align:center;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7dyxQR3byzg/TQF4cyxma8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/Z-6Afqnc16Q/s1600/etwitter.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548848651958643650" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or do the celebrities need to retweet these first before their fans voted?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3782983465471411071?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3782983465471411071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3782983465471411071&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3782983465471411071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3782983465471411071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2010/12/someone-at-e-online-needs-to-learn-how.html' title='someone at e! online needs to learn how to use twitter'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7dyxQR3byzg/TQF4cyxma8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/Z-6Afqnc16Q/s72-c/etwitter.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4266713177847769559</id><published>2010-11-19T13:46:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T13:53:54.430+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry bla bla bla bla bla Potter bla</title><content type='html'>I tuned myself out by the time this conversation below was taking place. Don't be alarmed by the amount of "bla"s, because that was &lt;em&gt;exactly&lt;/em&gt; what I was hearing. I don't think crucial information is missing because of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A FRIEND: Bla bla bla bla. Bla bla bla Harry Potter bla bla bla. Bla bla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: Bla rame (lots of people) bla bla. Bla bla bla long queue bla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A FRIEND: Epicentrum! 500 seats, with a lobby that can barely hold 100 people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm sold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4266713177847769559?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4266713177847769559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4266713177847769559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4266713177847769559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4266713177847769559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2010/11/harry-bla-bla-bla-bla-bla-potter-bla.html' title='Harry bla bla bla bla bla Potter bla'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1087435634600936890</id><published>2010-11-15T09:03:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T09:05:51.142+07:00</updated><title type='text'>will this count as "ikut les teori"?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7dyxQR3byzg/TOCVDOdIJUI/AAAAAAAAAR0/_i7eUhI9_0c/s1600/musictheory.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539591424318121282" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning a lot though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1087435634600936890?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1087435634600936890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1087435634600936890&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1087435634600936890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1087435634600936890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2010/11/will-this-count-as-ikut-les-teori.html' title='will this count as &quot;ikut les teori&quot;?'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7dyxQR3byzg/TOCVDOdIJUI/AAAAAAAAAR0/_i7eUhI9_0c/s72-c/musictheory.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4943639596662502404</id><published>2010-11-10T06:20:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T06:44:43.348+07:00</updated><title type='text'>"we control the number of population of vampires in the world."</title><content type='html'>I was hanging out with a friend of mine who passed away several months ago. So, I knew there and then, that things were gonna be good. He told me he needed to tell me something; I thought it was gonna be an infatuation-related confession. His name is Jock. And he never looked better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We control the number of population of vampires in the world," I heard him talking easily, as if they are pest rats. He's Australian and he needed to recruit a new "controller", that was what they called themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was his place, a chic, small, nice, comfy high-end apartment in a prestigious apartment complex, just he and I, sitting on the balcony. "My European counterpart will be here in any second."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there he was. Standing tall at the door, very European, exactly what I imagined how he would look like, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_Skarsg%C3%A5rd"&gt;Alexander Skarsgård&lt;/a&gt;. The European controller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shook his hand in a friendly manner, a bit intimidated, yet saying, "So you're also.." Skarsgård finished my sentence with, "... controlling the number of population of vampires. Yes." His voice was so as heard on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a blurry plot after that. It involved me going to the mosque to pray (I guess it was Friday), taking care of my mom's car (I guess I had mechanic skills), washing away some flooded houses (I guess I was heroic), but I vividly remember that I was taking Skarsgård home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We needed someone like you. We have been looking for years now. We need someone who doesn't look European, who doesn't look like a controller, but has the mind and physical abilities like one." I think I was flattered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran permutations in my head. This was all so exciting! Both controllers said that they did not use entry permit to go in a country, so I could virtually fly anywhere. They only worked like six months per year, so I could lounge anywhere I want in the other six.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, I would have one of the coolest jobs ever created.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I decided to take the job, pack my bags, and upload some TV series that I had grown attached to to my iPod. Besides, it's gotta be cool to always hang out with Skarsgård, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK. I'll see you at the airport in five hours. Our first stop is Italy. There's an unusual activity there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all my bags packed, alone, I started to really process what was just going on. "I'm gonna have a COMPLETELY different life! Fighting off vampires, travel around the world, it sounds so foreign to me," I heard myself talking in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that unfamiliar feeling that pushed me to want to call it off and tell Skarsgård that even though I decided to stay here, he and I should definitely keep in touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I went on to the airport. With my bags. And the series in my iPod. Giddy as a kid. Feeling nothing but super excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4943639596662502404?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4943639596662502404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4943639596662502404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4943639596662502404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4943639596662502404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2010/11/we-control-number-of-population-of.html' title='&quot;we control the number of population of vampires in the world.&quot;'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6716068456068491415</id><published>2010-11-07T09:25:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T12:05:32.153+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Similar to Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7dyxQR3byzg/TNYPsJeSVFI/AAAAAAAAARs/g5HCcUV6_Fs/s1600/101107ontwitter.png" border="0" alt=""id="Similar to me on Twitter" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one is understandable. The second one is predictable. The third one is without any guesses. But &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Murphy_(choreographer)"&gt;Mary Murphy&lt;/a&gt;?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/azhabibie"&gt;twitter.com&lt;/a&gt; detect how high my speaking pitch is by deciphering only my tweets? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things are just downright and simply scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6716068456068491415?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6716068456068491415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6716068456068491415&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6716068456068491415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6716068456068491415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2010/11/similar-to-me.html' title='Similar to Me'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7dyxQR3byzg/TNYPsJeSVFI/AAAAAAAAARs/g5HCcUV6_Fs/s72-c/101107ontwitter.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7926168379581282052</id><published>2010-11-06T06:27:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T06:36:55.052+07:00</updated><title type='text'>[spoiler alert] on Pushing Daisies and happiness</title><content type='html'>I rarely quote a line from a movie, a book, a song, a musical, or anything, unless it is really remarkably worthy. That being said, here's a line from the finale of Pushing Daisies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, I LOVE Ned. And all his insecurities. And all his castmates. I just need to learn how to speak the way they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by the way #2, the finale of Pushing Daisies is one of the most astonishingly beautiful televised episodes of a series ever. EVER. EV-VER! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the line. Hope I didn't spoil anyone. If so, stop reading and move on with your lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NED: Chuck, I try very hard to be a good boyfriend. I believe that, every day, even in the smallest ways, I try to put your happiness before my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHUCK: Yeah, I agree with that whole-heartedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NED: I've been lying to you. Not that it's any kind of excuse, but I think it's because I've been lying to myself, too. If Lily and Vivian knew you were alive, the only person in danger would be me. And the danger itself is a lie: It's irrational fear in danger's clothing, and it's whispering in my ear, saying, "Chuck loves her mother and aunt so much there's no way she would want to spend her life with you if could still be with them." And so, I put &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; happiness first and told everyone that no one could know you were alive again. Especially Lily and Vivian Charles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHUCK: You didn't know what you were doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NED: I do now. I'm finally putting your happiness before my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice weekend. I need to bawl out my happiness first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7926168379581282052?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7926168379581282052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7926168379581282052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7926168379581282052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7926168379581282052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2010/11/spoiler-alert-on-pushing-daisies-and.html' title='[spoiler alert] on Pushing Daisies and happiness'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-402270937008983509</id><published>2009-10-17T07:44:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T08:00:46.924+07:00</updated><title type='text'>not for the insomniacs</title><content type='html'>I didn't sleep well last night. In a good way. I saw it coming, when it came it sucked, but I deserved it, I think. But it was because of something good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, back then in my senior year of high school, I always put my alarm to go off at midnight. Reason: I want to watch &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newsradio"&gt;Newsradio&lt;/a&gt;. At that time, between all the other comedy series shown at midnight in Indonesia (including later, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ellen_Show"&gt;The Ellen Show&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murphy_Brown"&gt;Murphy Brown&lt;/a&gt;, but not &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FRIENDS"&gt;Friends&lt;/a&gt;. Friends was shown Sunday afternoon.), I connected the best with Newsradio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem was, after waking up for thirty minutes, laughing, most of the times out loud, I could not go back to sleep immediately. Adrenaline rush? Endorphin drunk? Happiness high? I think a combination between those three. Sometimes I'd lay in front of the TV for 2 hours not going back to sleep (but of course you have to know that at that time, I went to bed like 8 at night, and fell asleep no later than 9).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning from that, I always carefully schedule my watching comedy series schedule, so that it won't interrupt my sleeping pattern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I succeeded to do all that until last night, when I have &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Office_(US_TV_series)_season_5"&gt;The Office season 5&lt;/a&gt; DVDs in hand and deliberately decided that I could not wait any longer to know the story between &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Halpert"&gt;Jim&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pam_Halpert"&gt;Pam&lt;/a&gt; before I will finally see the grand wedding (Oh my God! Wikipedia editors already changed Pam's last name to Halpert!). So I prepared my dinner, sat on the couch, and started the first double episode. And then the next one. And the next one. And one. And before I knew it, I was drawn directly into putting the next next and next discs and started a marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The marathon lasted until a wee bit after midnight. Fun times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-402270937008983509?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/402270937008983509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=402270937008983509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/402270937008983509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/402270937008983509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-for-insomniacs.html' title='not for the insomniacs'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7744528111036386583</id><published>2009-10-03T08:09:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T08:25:13.141+07:00</updated><title type='text'>iTunes knows me so well</title><content type='html'>Hell to the no!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 500px; height: 187px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/091003itunes.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388177482087930546" /&gt;But at least it is not "What I Did for Love."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7744528111036386583?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7744528111036386583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7744528111036386583&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7744528111036386583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7744528111036386583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/10/itunes-knows-me-so-well.html' title='iTunes knows me so well'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3146170111303432178</id><published>2009-02-02T06:51:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T06:53:46.119+07:00</updated><title type='text'>it was once said that Roger Federer ...</title><content type='html'>... kept winning because he was really nice, making people not want to beat him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how about the also really nice Rafael Nadal this year, then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, congratz to these amazing players. It's always entertaining to see them both.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3146170111303432178?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3146170111303432178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3146170111303432178&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3146170111303432178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3146170111303432178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-was-once-said-that-roger-federer.html' title='it was once said that Roger Federer ...'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8870409539551375921</id><published>2009-01-31T10:54:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T11:16:13.871+07:00</updated><title type='text'>your broadway weekend</title><content type='html'>Wanting to see that Australian Women's Finals this afternoon with having nothing to do while waiting? Starting to rummaging through &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt; and stumble to some awesome videos that will keep you busy? Oh. Is it just me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least, I think these two videos below are exemplary. One, is a modern twist of a classic (my favorite) number from a classic (my favorite) musical: "What I Did for Love", from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Chorus_Line"&gt;A Chorus Line&lt;/a&gt;. Sung by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_J_Blige"&gt;Mary J. Blige&lt;/a&gt;, a smorgasboard of my favorite things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yBjSYbpssCs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yBjSYbpssCs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait. This second video is even better. A classic twist of a classic number from a classic musical, sung by one of my favorite actors/people in the world. Sunset Boulevard from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunset_Boulevard_(musical)"&gt;Sunset Boulevard&lt;/a&gt; by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Barrowman"&gt;John Barrowman&lt;/a&gt; a.k.a I still can't believe that he is not as famous as he could possibly be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/paNXhv2GuTw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/paNXhv2GuTw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love his boyish and playful timbre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8870409539551375921?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8870409539551375921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8870409539551375921&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8870409539551375921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8870409539551375921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/01/your-broadway-weekend.html' title='your broadway weekend'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7160212256851184248</id><published>2009-01-20T18:54:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T05:55:12.506+07:00</updated><title type='text'>on commitment and letting go - WordCamp Indonesia 2009</title><content type='html'>Each of the top 75 American Idol 4 contestants had to stand in front of Randy, Paula, and Simon singing their choice of song without any back up whatsoever. Before they started singing, they had to say the things they learned that week. If I were one of them, and if the week was last week, I would have said, "This week, I learned about commitment and letting go," as last weekend, I attended &lt;a href="http://wordcampindonesia.com/"&gt;WordCamp Indonesia 2009&lt;/a&gt;, a forum privately organized by Valent Mustamin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The forum gathered &lt;a href="http://wordpress.org/"&gt;WordPress&lt;/a&gt; freaks from all over the world quite literally and figuratively. There were bloggers, developers, designers, theme designers, end users, publicists, marketers, educators, from Indonesia, Malaysia, and the USA. Well, alright. From Indonesia, Malaysia, and one from the US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the whole two-day event, there is only one thing in- and exhaled by every single one people at Erasmus Huis auditorium: Commitment. I have never seen such strongly committed group at an event before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is only fair though, since one of the reasons behind the thriving of WordPress is its committed community. Initially conceived as a technology to automatically convert &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prime_(symbol)"&gt;a double prime&lt;/a&gt; into a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quotation_mark"&gt;double quotation mark&lt;/a&gt;, WordPress grew to be a (if not the most) potential tool that reshapes how the people use and develop the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like that commitment is also hailed by the WordPress co-developer, &lt;a href="http://ma.tt/"&gt;Matt Mullenweg&lt;/a&gt;, who flew thousands of miles to see us, and generously shared some behind-the-curtain peek on WordPress' history, present, and future. He also informed us that Indonesia, a country with less than 10% penetration of the internet, is actually a strong force to be reckon with at &lt;a href="http://wordpress.com/"&gt;Wordpress.com&lt;/a&gt;. Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He and other speakers that include &lt;a href="http://romisatriawahono.net/"&gt;Romi Satria Wahono&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.indopacedelman.com/"&gt;Nanda Ivens&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://virtual.co.id/"&gt;Nukman Luthfie&lt;/a&gt;, and a number of panelists, also shared their experience in dealing with WordPress, conveying a second lesson for me: letting go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt shortly explained that letting go the feeling to control everything (in other word, delegating) was one of the keys to his success. Nanda implied that we need to start moving forward and letting go the complete cover-up of anything said about us or our products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romi let us know some of the techniques that he uses to use blogging as to educate his students. Nukman pointed out that letting go some closely guarded internal information and loosening the membrane to our customer was the point of new marketing, while the panels were letting go the sense of exclusivity of their projects, so that we were able to learn from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All and all, the highlights of the event was when Matt admitted that he is a typography freak, which for me, answers a LOT of questions to answer why I am so drawn to WordPress. I told him, that WordPress got me at "Hello," he wittily corrected saying that WordPress got me at "Howdy." Of course he's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is also fair to say that we were all starstruck by the man behind WordPress, who is very real and approachable. I coyly apologized for being late to realize that it was his birth&lt;del&gt;day&lt;/del&gt;week, and wished him happy birthweek. To that, he responded, "Oh, thanks and no problem. I intended to make it my birthmonth anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we have as many as 7 American Idol winners already and are on our way to find number eight this year. But for the moment, last weekend, our American idol was standing right before our eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Other blog posts about WordCamp Indonesia 2009. Mostly written by bloggers much higher than my caliber. (Please feel free to add yours too in the comments section if I had not read/noticed yours).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wordcampindonesia.com/thanks/"&gt;A Thank You Note&lt;/a&gt; from Valent Mustamin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pitra had &lt;a href="http://media-ide.bajingloncat.com/2009/01/19/dua-hari-di-wordcamp-indonesia/"&gt;a chance to have dinner with Matt and others on the second day&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took &lt;a href="http://kun.co.ro/2009/01/18/wordcamp-jakarta-2009/"&gt;Kuncoro's infamous picture&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While wongkito took &lt;a href="http://wongkito.net/18-01-2009/wordcamp-indonesia-2009.htm"&gt;insanely creative pictures&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even Matt &lt;a href="http://ndorokakung.com/2009/01/19/matt-pecas-ndahe/"&gt;recognized the popularity of crowd pleaser Ndoro Kakung&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The luckiest, yet deserving attendee: Rivermaya who won both &lt;a href="http://www.110673.com/wordcamp-indonesia-day-1/"&gt;the bonus on the first day&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.110673.com/wordcamp-day-ii/"&gt;the grand door prize on the second day&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rara is &lt;a href="http://i-rara.com/2009/01/17/wordcamp-indonesia-2009/"&gt;excited (or shocked?) that there's gonna be another WordPress update soon&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other former Indo-Hamburger (but much more famous) in the room &lt;a href="http://christian-sugiono.seleb.tv/2009/01/19/wordcamp-indonesia-2009/"&gt;who was up till 3 but ready at 9&lt;/a&gt;. Respekt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F from Bloggingly beat me to collecting &lt;a href="http://bloggingly.com/link-review-wordcamp-indonesia/"&gt;review links from other bloggers&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PPS:&lt;/span&gt; Picture(s) will come up soon after I found my cell phone's USB cable. Gah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7160212256851184248?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7160212256851184248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7160212256851184248&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7160212256851184248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7160212256851184248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-commitment-and-letting-go-wordcamp.html' title='on commitment and letting go - WordCamp Indonesia 2009'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8460589908182672589</id><published>2009-01-18T06:57:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T07:13:51.587+07:00</updated><title type='text'>recent youtube find</title><content type='html'>An email from &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/profile.php?id=632996742&amp;ref=ts"&gt;the dude believing&lt;/a&gt; that I love &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RgL2MKfWTo"&gt;a particular Bulgarian performer&lt;/a&gt;, brought me to my most recent find on &lt;a href="http://youtube.com"&gt;youtube&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a bit sorry for myself though for surrendering the wants to blog about more interesting episodes of my life for this. But this youtube video will brighten up your day just because it bleeds with passion. Plus, it's one of my favorite holiday songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me say one thing, though. Nothing in the world would prepare you for 03:07.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/104cdcySpEs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/104cdcySpEs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there is any questions, no, I don't sing with falsettos like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8460589908182672589?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8460589908182672589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8460589908182672589&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8460589908182672589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8460589908182672589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/01/recent-youtube-find.html' title='recent youtube find'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6540744888328749982</id><published>2009-01-05T06:05:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T06:28:53.494+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolution #1 - the basic of</title><content type='html'>The fundamental of &lt;a href="http://peterwalshdesign.com"&gt;decluttering&lt;/a&gt; is actually one simple process: finish the task. If the task is as simple as eating dinner, that means the task consists of preparing dinner, eating in up, cleaning it up, washing the dishes, and putting back all things in their places. After you put back all things in their place, the task is then considered done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the area that I need to work on. Not only in eating dinner, but in many other tasks like taking a bath (ended with putting the laundry in the bin - five meters away, but so?), writing reports (ended with cataloging them, which I never did), or retouching pictures (ended with putting them away from the desktop to their respective folders).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been somewhat good to excellent in jump-starting a task. I find it exciting to get my hands on something new, even though it is on something demanding like a task. But I have not been able to finish it as together as I started it. Well, at least not as together as I want it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one of the strategy that might work for me is actually keeping the excitement level to a high, or if it is too tiring, try to cleverly distribute the level of excitement throughout the whole task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited to try doing my task in this new approach! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops. Spoke to soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6540744888328749982?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6540744888328749982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6540744888328749982&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6540744888328749982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6540744888328749982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolution-1-basic-of.html' title='Resolution #1 - the basic of'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6377591759710488000</id><published>2009-01-03T20:27:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T20:29:57.800+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolution #2 - Oatmeal in Protein Shakes</title><content type='html'>I love... No, I LOVE oatmeal in my protein shakes. It gives it texture, replacing the texture that is usually given by crushed ice (since my fridge will not produce ice without fish smell).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it made me not have to eat it as breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay for oatmeal smoothies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6377591759710488000?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6377591759710488000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6377591759710488000&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6377591759710488000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6377591759710488000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolution-2-oatmeal-in-protein-shakes.html' title='Resolution #2 - Oatmeal in Protein Shakes'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4833846340357137518</id><published>2008-12-31T21:10:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T12:18:47.602+07:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 resolution</title><content type='html'>Resolutions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. I'm gonna keep this short. The resolutions, not the post. The post. Hmm.. It can be lengthy. At least that's what I have in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm only gonna keep 2009 resolution to under 10 things. Right now, I'm aiming for five things only. Because what is more important is not the resolution itself, but the follow up. So, let's start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, before the reveal, I will tell you that in order to achieve these resolutions I will use the work of some people that have been inspiring me throughout occasions in 2008. So, here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;One: Decluttering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Model:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=632996742"&gt;Michael&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.peterwalshdesign.com/"&gt;Peter Walsh&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Michael has shown me how decluttering can be useful as well as a drag in your life. But I know I need it. I need to master it. That's when Peter Walsh, a professional organizer walks in. In 2009, I'll learn and master decluttering imminently. There is no 'wait' in the dictionary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;First things first:&lt;/span&gt; Decluttering my bedroom and playroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Two: A more intelligent approach in exercising.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Model:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.cbathletics.com/"&gt;Craig Ballantyne&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;So far, I am proud to say that my exercising habit has been good. However, there is still a department that I need to improve. Strength. Craig Ballantyne has kept me excited in exercising through his innovatively crafted, interestingly thought, and challenging routines. It's entertaining to see his videos in youtube. And no, not because of his abs or his cute Canadian accent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;First things first:&lt;/span&gt; Combining Yoga and strength training to do handstand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Three: A comprehensive knowledge of knowledge management in the web.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Model:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.blackmonlabs.com/"&gt;Brad&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://alistapart.com/"&gt;the people behind ALA&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Web 2.0 has grown further than what I have anticipated, learned, and experienced. I need to get back on track and experiment and absorb and practice as many technology as possible. Earlier this year, Brad introduced me to Firebug, a Firefox extension that will, in his own words, "Change your life." He was right.&lt;br /&gt;First things first: Buy a web hosting plan. I'm thinking in masterwebnet.com. And then put an online portfolio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Four: Get some education  on money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Model:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://suzeorman.com/"&gt;Suze Orman&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;The timestamp on a book I owned titled, 'Save or Sorry: Kesejahteraan Finansial Sepenuhnya di Tangan Anda,' is 2003. But only five years later I really want to put the things I read and learned in practice. So thank God for Suze Orman. 'People first, Then money. Then things,' will be one of my mantras in 2009.&lt;br /&gt;First things first: Create an expense tracking system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Five: Read books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Model: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nicksbooks.com/"&gt;Nick Hornby&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;You know what is one of my biggest fears? Knowing the statistic of unread books currently on my book shelves. Yes. Shelves. So, this year, I will read and read and read like a fiend, just because I wanted to live up to the image I've been struggling with for all my life: a book reader. Yes, I read. But I think I haven't read as many (and as interesting) as I want. I mean, have you read &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nick_Hornby"&gt;Nick Hornby&lt;/a&gt;'s '&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Polysyllabic_Spree"&gt;The Pollysyllabic Spree&lt;/a&gt;'? Yeah, me neither.&lt;br /&gt;First things first: Finish reading 'English Writing' and move on to 'Rich Dad's Cashflow Quadrant.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Six: Better in catching up with people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Model:&lt;/span&gt; Michael and &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=699189163"&gt;Geget&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Just ask these two awesome friends of mine about how awful I am in keeping up with my friendships or any other forms of relationships (like with relatives and stuff). On the contrary, they are two of the BEST people in terms of keeping theirs afloat. I wish I have a quarter of their energy to do that. I'll dig that in me in 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go. Six. Of course there is the sixth, seventh, and eighth ones, but revealing them means revealing a perfecter, better, and groovier side of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's leave it like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4833846340357137518?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4833846340357137518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4833846340357137518&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4833846340357137518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4833846340357137518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/12/2009-resolution.html' title='2009 resolution'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-5765437446854109797</id><published>2008-12-30T19:25:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T19:31:51.134+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I did not voluntarily put down 'negative' as my weakness for no reason</title><content type='html'>I just got back from a trip outta town, bringing back some delicacies, which is a very rare custom of mine. This dialogue happened when I giddily announced that I had something for everybody (like seven minutes ago).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; So, I got four packs of these. I only want this one. So you can have these two, and the last one is for her (Mrs. XYZ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Not me:&lt;/span&gt; Oh, Mrs. XYZ won't like this (with a smile implying, 'You don't know her?'). She said it was too sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga breathing, yoga breathing, yoga breathing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-5765437446854109797?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/5765437446854109797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=5765437446854109797&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5765437446854109797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5765437446854109797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-did-not-voluntarily-put-down-negative.html' title='I did not voluntarily put down &apos;negative&apos; as my weakness for no reason'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4692035312890263723</id><published>2008-12-22T16:25:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T16:53:59.613+07:00</updated><title type='text'>compulsive not eating</title><content type='html'>See I knew it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, on one cloudy Saturday, after a BodyBalance class, I randomly had the urge to weigh myself. It's been three months (or even more) since I weighed myself the last time, and at that time I still remember how I looked down to see the numbers and heaved a sigh replacing the words I supposed to say, "See? It's still 64."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So two days ago, at the gym I decided to step back on to the scale again, with full awareness that they might have messed with the scale in order to make people look weigh a little more so that they will renew their membership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OR, they might have messed the scale up by making people look weigh less so that they will think that the gym does bring some results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, I stepped on the scale, only confided a tiny little bit in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I weighed 66 kgs. 66! SIXTY SIX! I have never, I mean, NEVER reached somewhere over 65 before. So this is good news right? Right? But wait. This is the gym scale. Not my own scale. My regular scale. People have messed this thing up. So I stepped down, went to the shower thinking, ah well, at least I am within the range.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, after my 4th meal (a banana and a scoop of peanut butter. Yum!), I decided to weigh myself. Out of the blue. So I walked to my bathroom, put my feet on the scale, and looked down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 66 kg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yay! It WAS really 66.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT guess what happened today. Today, I don't feel like eating. As always. Like what The Beatles say, "When I'm sixty-four." Gah. So, I skipped my second and fourth meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; I still don't know how many percent of that 66 was fat, but I believe and safely assume that it was somewhere below twenty. Hahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS2:&lt;/span&gt; I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that I checked my weight a couple of days ago. Maybe I should stop checking my weight after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4692035312890263723?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4692035312890263723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4692035312890263723&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4692035312890263723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4692035312890263723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/12/compulsive-not-eating.html' title='compulsive not eating'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1643328810477691966</id><published>2008-12-09T21:07:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:19:01.935+07:00</updated><title type='text'>what about dooce?</title><content type='html'>Today, I had to sit for 8 hours in a training room to take part in a thing they called Integrated Project Management In-house Training. It was OK, until I saw the form which we had to fill stating what are the things that we expect from the sessions etc., which I believe was conceived at least 20 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under which media you read, I had to choose between:&lt;br /&gt;Newspaper: Kompas, Media Indonesia, gibberish1, gibberish2, gibberish3&lt;br /&gt;Magazine: Gatra, Tempo, SWA (what?!), gibberish4, gibberish5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Men's Health is not an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I filled out 'Others' more with media that have a 'dot' in the name. &lt;a href="http://kottke.org/"&gt;kottke.org&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://boingboing.net/"&gt;boingboing.net&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://newyorktimes.com/"&gt;newyorktimes.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my mind, there are some others that I don't need to divulge here. And &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avenue_q#List_of_songs"&gt;they all think that the Internet is for Porn&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1643328810477691966?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1643328810477691966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1643328810477691966&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1643328810477691966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1643328810477691966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-about-dooce.html' title='what about dooce?'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8315139272920589939</id><published>2008-11-02T06:45:00.009+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T09:05:36.206+07:00</updated><title type='text'>O Pacote: Highlight of the Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 1em; display: block; text-align: center; width: 500px; height: 200px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081102_pack1.JPG" alt="the package" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871807628534498" border="0" /&gt;This week was full of things going on. But between returning from Seram island with a bunch of pictures and stories to tell, the bowling game with a good friend from college, the Halloween party where I courageously dressed up as a pirate, the wonderful Saturday when I shamelessly slept for about 10 hours during the day, the highlight of the week actually came Thursday when a package, much bigger than I thought, less heavier than I assumed, and much much more interesting that I could have ever anticipated, came to my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 1em; display: block; text-align: center; width: 500px; height: 229px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081102_pack2.JPG" alt="Dr. Who Figurines" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871814815358258" border="0" /&gt;On the top of the package is a pack Dr. Who figurines, from one of its monumental episode: Daleks in Manhattan. The episode was so good, for combining Dr. Who and Broadway, adventure and love story, new and old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 1em; display: block; text-align: center; width: 500px; height: 162px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081102_pack3.JPG" alt="Magazines" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871812737468834" border="0" /&gt;And a stack of cleverly chosen magazines and a tabloid, including, in the words of my hangout buddy, ".. a really good design magazine. I never thought that he is into 'Wallpaper' kind of thing." That hangout buddy needs to learn more about the awesome guy who sent me the package, especially regarding his good eyes when it comes to design.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 1em; display: block; text-align: center; width: 500px; height: 230px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081102_pack4.JPG" alt="Danny Wood pin" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871818773948754" border="0" /&gt;A gargantuan pin of Danny from NKOTB 2. Love it! I knew that "Who's your favorite New Kid" would mean more than just a question. The pin is huge. The diameter is about 12 cm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 500px; height: 245px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081102_pack5.JPG" alt="The watch" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871816969068962" border="0" /&gt;A gorgeous watch. It's a little loose, so I might need to take off one or two chains. Or eat more so that my wrist would bloat to fill the chain up. But that's not a wise option, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; width: 500px; height: 240px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081102_pack6.JPG" alt="Hammo and Dalek" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263872263096078850" border="0" /&gt;After only like 15 minutes, the Dalek from the Dr. Who package already invaded the room. Hammo was so afraid, he surrendered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are four other things in there, but will talk about it later, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, dude!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8315139272920589939?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8315139272920589939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8315139272920589939&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8315139272920589939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8315139272920589939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/11/o-pacote-highlight-of-week.html' title='O Pacote: Highlight of the Week'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-810272573343921365</id><published>2008-10-05T08:45:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T09:16:04.918+07:00</updated><title type='text'>men's Yoga</title><content type='html'>So, how excited I am to learn that now &lt;a href="http://www.menshealth.com/"&gt;menshealth.com&lt;/a&gt; has a section dedicated to Yoga called their &lt;a href="http://www.menshealth.com/yoga/"&gt;Yoga Center&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.menshealth.com/yoga/"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081005yoga2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Too EXCITED!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, the first sentence on the splash page on their homepage is somewhat true and too general, though. Even so, it has been probably used by some guys, who are now sporting lady's purse around Jakarta malls. &lt;a href="http://gethrougher.blogspot.com/"&gt;She&lt;/a&gt; knows what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081005yoga1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Enjoy browsing the section. I know I will!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-810272573343921365?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/810272573343921365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=810272573343921365&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/810272573343921365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/810272573343921365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/10/mens-yoga.html' title='men&apos;s Yoga'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-5962703322267359981</id><published>2008-10-02T07:58:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T09:14:39.991+07:00</updated><title type='text'>this is not what I signed up for</title><content type='html'>Three days ago, as a part of my gaining-back-the-weight program, I subscribed to a bunch of newsletters including ones from &lt;a href="http://www.menshealth.com/"&gt;Men's Health&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought that the title would be so similar to the ones I got in my Spam folder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081002menshealth.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;I mean, really.. Compare it with the snapshot from my spam folder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081002spam.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Anyway, hopefully everyone (in Indonesia) is enjoying their holiday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-5962703322267359981?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/5962703322267359981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=5962703322267359981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5962703322267359981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5962703322267359981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-not-what-i-signed-up-for.html' title='this is not what I signed up for'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7728560127031223782</id><published>2008-09-23T07:06:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T07:07:57.536+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Josh Groban at the Emmys</title><content type='html'>So, how cooler can this guy be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A9cQWelvgC4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A9cQWelvgC4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: I do 0:59-1:11 only like daily. Haha..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7728560127031223782?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7728560127031223782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7728560127031223782&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7728560127031223782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7728560127031223782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/09/josh-groban-at-emmys.html' title='Josh Groban at the Emmys'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1379016355562985319</id><published>2008-09-07T17:22:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T17:39:01.632+07:00</updated><title type='text'>to not be lost in translation</title><content type='html'>To &lt;a href="http://www.new.facebook.com/profile.php?id=699189163"&gt;a dear friend of mine&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think, to not be lost in translation in communicating with an American, we have to force ourselves watch &lt;a href="http://www.thedailyshow.com/"&gt;The Daily Show with Jon Stewart&lt;/a&gt;. We really need to start getting his jokes before we can get what our fellow Americans mean when they respond "in his way".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: And yeah, this is kinda inspired by &lt;a href="http://www.new.facebook.com/profile.php?id=632996742"&gt;a fellow American&lt;/a&gt;'s current &amp;uuml;ber-infatuation with the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1379016355562985319?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1379016355562985319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1379016355562985319&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1379016355562985319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1379016355562985319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-not-be-lost-in-translation.html' title='to not be lost in translation'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4325055767197301447</id><published>2008-08-22T08:01:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T08:48:44.971+07:00</updated><title type='text'>par up to Maya Angelou</title><content type='html'>Please don't hit me on the head with a stick. But until yesterday, I absolutely didn't know who &lt;a href="http://www.mayaangelou.com/"&gt;Maya Angelou&lt;/a&gt; was, except that she was mentioned in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Vie_Boheme"&gt;La Vie Boheme&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rent_(musical)"&gt;Rent&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries&lt;br /&gt;To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese&lt;br /&gt;To leather, to dildos, To curry Vindaloo&lt;br /&gt;To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at least she was referenced in the same verse with my most favorite thing in the world. And NO, it's not dildo. I'm talking about yoga. Gosh. People. *rollingeyes*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, a couple of days ago, Maya Angelou was picked up by &lt;a href="http://kottke.org"&gt;kottke.org&lt;/a&gt; showing on what she had learned in life, highlighting this passage:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he or she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People start to rate them regarding these three things, and I think..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1. A rainy day.&lt;/span&gt; On the days I have uncancelable plans to go out, 5/10. I will grumble all the way to the venue. Seriously. On the days I have no plans, 8/10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2. Lost luggage.&lt;/span&gt; Never experienced it. But since I value my clothes *ahem* so much, since each and one of them meant a lot to me and I need a fight to get them all and they are all hard-to-finds [I'm exaggerating, of course], 4/10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3. Tangled Christmas tree lights.&lt;/span&gt; Conceited factor aside, 10/10. Oh, don't ask me. Ask &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/n/?profile.php&amp;id=632996742"&gt;Mr. [In my opinion] 2/10&lt;/a&gt;. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How would you rate yourself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4325055767197301447?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4325055767197301447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4325055767197301447&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4325055767197301447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4325055767197301447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/08/par-up-to-maya-angelou.html' title='par up to Maya Angelou'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1108901029563127957</id><published>2008-06-08T07:13:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T10:44:21.451+07:00</updated><title type='text'>back by popular demand</title><content type='html'>Yeah, the title sounds pompous. However, from the five (or so) of my readers, I think four of them told me that subtly or frontally, directly or Y!Mly, commently or e-mailly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. Updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blogged less because ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1. I fell for a trap called employment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now neither freelancing nor freeprancing, but I work 8 (EIGHT!) to 5, have my own station complete with a telephone unit, 17-inch flat screen, name card stack that says my name and position and e-mail address and.. GAH! It stressed me just to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My work also introduced me to a work chair, also known as, based on that article on a recent Men's Health that I read, "The Number One Enemy for Your Spine". Every time I put my butt on my chair, I vividly recall that article and the horrifying picture of X-rayed messed-up vertebras, and one of my Yoga instructor's routine chants, "Take care of your spine.. You only have one of it.. You can not replace it like an old tire of your car.. Ohmm.." So when I called my employment a trap, that's an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2. I am no longer angry. I am now happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And who would want to write when they're happy? You might want to run on top of a hill, spread your hands, whisk through the grass, and sing, "The hills are alive.." But writing? I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask that dude who won an Oscar or Emmy or other statuettes named after something given to angry people who write cool things and vent their anger in words that said, "Thanks for anyone who made me an angry bitter man, hence a better writer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I am so filled with the intentions to do other stuff besides writing now. Having people to do those stuff doesn't help either. Talk to &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=632996742"&gt;a friend of mine&lt;/a&gt;, and ask him about that farm that I raised and that city that I helped thriving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, the reason I rewrite today, not because I am angry again. But, after seeing &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juno_%28film%29"&gt;Juno&lt;/a&gt;, I know now that non-angry people could, or probably, should write too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my boss isn't around for two days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1108901029563127957?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1108901029563127957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1108901029563127957&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1108901029563127957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1108901029563127957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/06/back-by-popular-demand.html' title='back by popular demand'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-30575266005073446</id><published>2008-04-29T10:26:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T10:49:59.541+07:00</updated><title type='text'>top 5</title><content type='html'>I think it's much more fun to see &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0958228/"&gt;these 5 kids&lt;/a&gt; than seeing this year Idol's top 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I do believe that last week's "Think of Me" was one of the most perfectly arranged songs in Idol ever. The mumbly part by David Archuleta when he forgot his words just made it so much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess, who's back? Back again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-30575266005073446?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/30575266005073446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=30575266005073446&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/30575266005073446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/30575266005073446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/04/top-5.html' title='top 5'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2112113292695590629</id><published>2008-02-23T06:56:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T06:58:25.017+07:00</updated><title type='text'>today's one liner</title><content type='html'>I know it's a LOT late to say this, but after unseeded players consistently beating seeded ones in various tournaments, I'll say it's gonna be an interesting year in Tennis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2112113292695590629?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2112113292695590629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2112113292695590629&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2112113292695590629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2112113292695590629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/02/todays-one-liner.html' title='today&apos;s one liner'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1701620766011111363</id><published>2008-02-21T11:25:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T12:09:41.732+07:00</updated><title type='text'>dueling idols - American Idol top 24</title><content type='html'>"We're gonna lose half of these guys before we're moving on to the final stage!", Ryan Seacrest shouted to our dearest ears on the first semi final show of American Idol 7. Well, if he wasn't shouting it, it just feels like it, because during Idol season, I really can't get away from shouting Ryan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time before every top 24 show, I always try to really take it in that half of these talented kids &lt;i&gt;will not&lt;/i&gt; be there for the finals. Usually, the realization comes after some bad performances. Not naming names, here. But check the contestant without any last names. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just because I want the finals to be as diverse as possible, here's how I saw last night's show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Chikezie&lt;/span&gt; vs &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David Archuleta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first David and Goliath showdown for David. This is the classic duel between the best and the worst. I love how energetic David's performance was. With that duality of personality while performing and doing interviews with Ryan, I really think he is the 17-year-old white male version of Melinda Doolittle. On the other spectrum, orange and all, oomph is what is missing in Chikezie's performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winner: &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David Archuleta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Robbie Carrico&lt;/span&gt; vs &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Michael Johns&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robbie and Michael is two of the I-do-not-know-how-much rockers this year. What sets them apart is Robbie keeps telling us, "I'm a rocker! ROCKER!! I sport all this mandana and beanie and berets and meticulously grown and kept facial and chest and head hair and talk in a rocker kinda way, so of course, I am a real rocker!" Right. On the other hand, Michael just went there, manscaped, and sang. And we can vividly see that he totally rocked that stage. I mean, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winner: &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Michael Johns&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jason Castro&lt;/span&gt; vs &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Danny Noriega&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This round was appropriately themed the 60's. Jason and Danny were the only two that was true 100% to the theme. They were the last night's hippies. It is so easy to say that Jason is much hippier than Danny, since he has a long Bob-Marley-influenced kinda hair, performed with a guitar, but Jason misses Danny's hip thrusts and hipster pants. So, Danny scored two points for being the hippiest here. Plus he reminds me of Jake Shears. That's a HUGE compliment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Call me crazy and hate my guts, but &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Danny Noriega&lt;/span&gt; - eventhough I also want &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jason Castro&lt;/span&gt; in the finals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David Cook&lt;/span&gt; vs &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David Hernandez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. I paired them simply because of their first names. Performance wise, I like David H better. I don't know why, but it's very rare to find male singers like David H in the finals of Idol. I don't think he is as bad as what Simon said and yeah, why don't we give a singer like David H more chance. On the other corner, David C, really? Another rocker?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winner: &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David Hernandez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Luke Menard&lt;/span&gt; vs &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jason Yeager&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idol is usually crowded with soulful, powerhouse, rangy vocalists. Because of that, I would like to see a safe, kindly calming, ballad-friendly vocals also make it to the finals this year. It can be easily from one of these two. I lean towards Luke more. I like the KennyLogginsy of his voice (Kenny Loggins is one of my favorite performers because of his safe, kindly calming, ballad-friendly vocal). Oh, and they are paired because they have the most daddy quality in them. Err, no. Non-sexually speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winner: &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Luke Menard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Colton Berry&lt;/span&gt; vs &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Garrett Hayley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the two contestants that I least care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winner: See sentence above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will be updated later with the girls. (Did anyone notice that Carly Smithson was nowhere to be seen yesterday?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1701620766011111363?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1701620766011111363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1701620766011111363&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1701620766011111363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1701620766011111363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/02/dueling-idols-american-idol-top-24.html' title='dueling idols - American Idol top 24'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3421634257236609708</id><published>2008-02-20T06:50:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T08:19:45.164+07:00</updated><title type='text'>rockin idol</title><content type='html'>Unlike listening to Avenue Q at least once a day, voicing my infatuation towards one contestant to another before I saw them performing on the top 24 stage is not really my habit. But in this seventh installment of &lt;del&gt;International&lt;/del&gt; American Idol, I can't help of noticing some stand-outs from the preliminary rounds. See, I still won't take sides at this point, I just have some judgments. Now, not big judgments like who to hire or who to buy newspapers from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Most Internationally Recognized&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a tie between &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/carly_smithson/"&gt;Carly Smithson&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/michael_johns/"&gt;Michael Johns&lt;/a&gt;. Smithson is Irish, while Johns speaks with an Australian accent. I think they're cool. Hopefully, internationaldom won't hurt their chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Most Likely to be the Most Successful David&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funnily, we have three (THREE!) Davids this year. If this is Indonesian Idol, the producers will have problems making the SMS vote code. I mean would you like to hear, "Kirim 'IDOL spasi DAVIDA' ke 9889". I mean, who's Davida? But on that note, 16-year-old &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/david_archuleta/"&gt;David Archuleta&lt;/a&gt; can easily garner votes from one of the biggest blocks in Idol: the teenie girls. Besides he will be the one to make the headline "David vs Goliath" or its puns work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Most Entertaining to Watch&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two words: &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/danny_noriega/"&gt;Danny Noriega&lt;/a&gt;. Also two words: Love him. Not really two words: I can't believe he sang "When I Need You" with those daring movements touching his carefully groomed hair in a better way than how the likes of Christina Aguilera or Beyoncé does it. Dayum. And oh, yeah, I had watched those 30-second youtube clips for like three hundred times already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Most Likely to be My Favorite&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first saw &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/joanne_borgella/"&gt;Joanne Burgella&lt;/a&gt;, I thought she would be an upgraded registered version of &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season5/mandisa/"&gt;Mandisa&lt;/a&gt; with a prettier face, better outfit, and more user friendly (*coughlesshomophobiacough*). But soon as I heard Burgella sing, her voice is so not Mandisa, and deserves to be one of my finger-countable CDs. You know, screechy and screamy. Love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Most Likely to Pull a Nadia Turner&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season4/nadia_turner/"&gt;Nadia Turner&lt;/a&gt; was a favorite during the first weeks of Idol 4 finals, only to find on the next week that she was far to "unique" for Idol. This year, the motorcycle chick nurse, &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/amanda_overmyer/"&gt;Amanda Overmyer&lt;/a&gt; might fall on the same category. What is it with motorcycle chicks this year? After &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/index.php?cat=designer&amp;p=sweet_p"&gt;Sweet P&lt;/a&gt;, we have Amanda now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;First to Hear the Word "Forgettable"&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a hard time to name this category. But I seriously wonder what's so special about &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/syesha_mercado/"&gt;Syesha I-cant-even-remember-her-last-name&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Most Likely to Rock the Idol Stage&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't know. There's just too many of them already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;The Pimpette&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, come on. If by now you haven't heard of &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season7/carly_smithson/"&gt;Carly Smithson&lt;/a&gt; already, you shouldn't call yourself an Idol freak, you freak. Even the controversy surrounding her this past few days made her a pimpette a little too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3421634257236609708?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3421634257236609708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3421634257236609708&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3421634257236609708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3421634257236609708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/02/rockin-idol.html' title='rockin idol'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8981149549287388915</id><published>2008-02-10T13:53:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T14:08:45.485+07:00</updated><title type='text'>best news I've heard so far in 2008</title><content type='html'>Found it in &lt;a href="http://www.boingboing.net/2008/02/09/which-book-should-ne.html"&gt;Boing Boing&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Gaiman"&gt;Neil Gaiman&lt;/a&gt; has decided to donate a book to be freely (as in costless) available online to &lt;a href="http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2008/02/birthday-thing.html"&gt;celebrate his blog's birthday&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Which book, though...? Ah, that's up to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want you to do is think -- not about which of the books below is your favourite, but if you were giving one away to a friend who had never read anything of mine, what would it be? Where would you want them to start?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I voted for the you-will-not-see-London-the-same-way-again &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neverwhere_%28novel%29"&gt;"Neverwhere"&lt;/a&gt;. So, come on! Help us all read "Neverwhere" for free! It's only down a couple of votes from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Gods"&gt;"American Gods"&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; To be totally honest, though, I haven't read ALL of Neil's books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PPS:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, I still don't actively celebrate my birthdays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8981149549287388915?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8981149549287388915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8981149549287388915&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8981149549287388915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8981149549287388915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/02/best-news-ive-heard-so-far-in-2008.html' title='best news I&apos;ve heard so far in 2008'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-5462899529108229185</id><published>2008-01-27T19:17:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T19:28:52.540+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess my stalker successfully recruited five members, then</title><content type='html'>Yikes! This is by far, the creepiest birthday wish that I have ever got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 auto 1em; text-align:center; width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/080127bday.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;At least some of them are cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-5462899529108229185?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/5462899529108229185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=5462899529108229185&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5462899529108229185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5462899529108229185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-guess-my-stalker-successfully.html' title='I guess my stalker successfully recruited five members, then'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4504317267838017029</id><published>2008-01-23T07:37:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T07:58:19.834+07:00</updated><title type='text'>news from the down under</title><content type='html'>Let's start this with a more neutral news; I really like it how everything turned out in &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/tennis/7181457.stm"&gt;Australia Open&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/tennis/7193090.stm"&gt;For the female part&lt;/a&gt;, that is. Reigning champion Serena Williams is ousted, world's number 1 Justine Henin is also ousted. Second seeded Svetlana Kuznetsova is already ousted. It's gonna be an interesting semi-final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the men's part, however, why is God so nice to Nadal in this opening of the year? Lucky bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a more devastating news, actor famous for his portrayal of closeted gay cowboy in &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2006/03/six-questions.html"&gt;"Brokeback Mountain"&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heath_Ledger"&gt;Heath Ledger&lt;/a&gt;, is &lt;a href="http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/01/22/actor-heath-ledger-is-found-dead/index.html?hp"&gt;found dead in his apartment&lt;/a&gt; yesterday (that's this morning to us all in Indonesia) at approximately 15:30 PM EST. He will be terribly missed. I like his work since I watched that Shakespearean &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0147800/"&gt;"10 Things I Hate About You"&lt;/a&gt; (and yes, I even reviewed the movie and sent it to my classmates who thought I was a freak, of course) and was thrilled that he was cast as &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0468569/"&gt;Joker&lt;/a&gt; before he was Jack Nicholson-y. No guy can fit to that role more perfect than he can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May he rest in peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4504317267838017029?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4504317267838017029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4504317267838017029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4504317267838017029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4504317267838017029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/01/news-from-down-under.html' title='news from the down under'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1183650472214423560</id><published>2008-01-20T09:50:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T10:14:28.525+07:00</updated><title type='text'>mr. right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=632996742"&gt;He&lt;/a&gt; is absolutely right. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Gangster_%28film%29"&gt;American Gangster&lt;/a&gt; is no fun to watch. Yawn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Also somewhat Mr. Right on a more non-personal thing is &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/tennis/7196476.stm"&gt;Germany's Philipp Kohlschreiber&lt;/a&gt;. Gratuliere, mann!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1183650472214423560?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1183650472214423560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1183650472214423560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1183650472214423560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1183650472214423560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/01/mr-right.html' title='mr. right'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7375800896727039109</id><published>2008-01-17T09:40:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T10:07:57.834+07:00</updated><title type='text'>thanks for noticing mine, I know I'm proud of it</title><content type='html'>Dear Honey [clearly this is not her real name since I have to obscure it to spare her feelings],&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first of all, thank you very much for your message on &lt;a href="http://friendster.com/"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt;. I really appreciate it. I don't really get it though as why I should feel sorry for myself. What's that? That's a catchphrase? Well, I don't really get that catchphrase as a pick up line since I heard it the last time well back in 2002. Perhaps six years does make a difference. I need to go out more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, I don't adopt that many catchphrases. Especially when it is conceived by Indonesians who think that the catchphrases they're making are cool but they're really not. And they think themselves as funny but they're really not. Really funny Indonesians are such a gem you know that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, thanks for writing. I don't think we can make a great (if not perfect) combo anyway. So, take care and good luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Zakky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Oh, and next time. Just a small tip. Calling a dude offensive names in your message Subject when you want to know him more? Not the greatest idea. Unless you want to talk about yours, I think you really should not have used that word. Cheers to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/081017friendster.gif" border="0" alt="Friendster Message" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7375800896727039109?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7375800896727039109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7375800896727039109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7375800896727039109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7375800896727039109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/01/friendster-message-of-day.html' title='thanks for noticing mine, I know I&apos;m proud of it'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4436325798903434037</id><published>2008-01-16T07:37:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T07:40:18.403+07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh my dear F-ing God! (Ease out guys, F stands for Facebook)</title><content type='html'>Alrighty, who did this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/080116fb.gif" border="0" alt="Facebook Home" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4436325798903434037?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4436325798903434037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4436325798903434037&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4436325798903434037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4436325798903434037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/01/oh-my-dear-f-ing-god-ease-out-guys-f.html' title='oh my dear F-ing God! (Ease out guys, F stands for Facebook)'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2260004338455450304</id><published>2008-01-15T07:37:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T07:39:30.931+07:00</updated><title type='text'>today's one liner</title><content type='html'>I just changed my desktop wallpaper yesterday until I saw &lt;a href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-should-give-up-now.html"&gt;yesterday's last entry from The Sartorialist&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Damn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2260004338455450304?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2260004338455450304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2260004338455450304&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2260004338455450304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2260004338455450304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/01/todays-one-liner.html' title='today&apos;s one liner'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8012978288379456754</id><published>2008-01-07T12:10:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T12:35:47.343+07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve's Resolution Update</title><content type='html'>So. &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/01/stupid-new-year.html"&gt;It's been a year&lt;/a&gt; since I observed my iTunes behaviour. There is nothing to it, really, except perhaps since I don't really have a current favorite bands (yeah, bye bye bye, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nsync"&gt;NSync&lt;/a&gt;), or singer (why is your third album boring, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josh_Groban"&gt;Joshie&lt;/a&gt;?), I just want to know which music I listen to most actually. Here goes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Top 25.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What took me by surprise is the fact that "Way Back Into Love" is ranked that high (#23), and "Popular" is ranked that low (#15).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Way Back Into Love", a conclusive song from the movie &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_and_lyrics"&gt;Music and Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;, is a feel-good pop perfect for a happy ending movie. I remember being afterglowed by the movie and being smitten by the song from the piano intro up to the faded out ending. I guess I was just practicing Hugh Grant's hip thrusts in that movie once too many then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly thought that I had &lt;del&gt;ad-libbed&lt;/del&gt; listened to "Popular" much more than just a mere 116 times this year. Besides the fact that this song fits my range perfectly, highly challenges my enunciation and voice production, "Popular" was also &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/todays-one-liner.html"&gt;featured in "Ugly Betty" season 2 episode 6&lt;/a&gt;, justifying too many occurences for this song to be in the top 10. Ah, well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sidenote:&lt;/span&gt; 8 out of 10 of those songs are from a musical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/080107itunes2516.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Top 10&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 12 "Here We Are", sung by Gloria Estefan, is a sentimental song that I love to sing. I still remember this song being dubbed by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rick_Dees"&gt;Rick Dees&lt;/a&gt; (and the weekly top foooorrrr-tyyyy!!) as one of the saddest break-up song of all time. By of all time, of course he meant early 90s. But as a clarification, no, I didn't have 129 break-ups this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Purpose" is the song that I am deeply in love from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avenue_Q"&gt;the musical "Avenue Q"&lt;/a&gt;. It's one of the songs in the musical that is (almost) clear from a bad word. Purpose is a hero song, sung by the lead actor in a more somber mood, gradually escalating to a more confident gesture. More or less like "Something's Coming" in "West Side Story". Hmm, perhaps that's why this song has a line that says, "Something's coming, something good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Find Your Grail" is a purposeful song in the musical "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spamalot"&gt;Spamalot&lt;/a&gt;". Sung mostly by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sara_Ramirez"&gt;Sara Ramirez&lt;/a&gt; (Dr. Callie Torres in Grey's Anatomy, FYI) featuring &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Curry"&gt;Tim Curry&lt;/a&gt; (title character of Stephen King's It, FYI) in the second half of Act One of the musical. What is so fun about this song is how Sara mimics (or parodies) &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitney_Houston"&gt;Whitney Houston&lt;/a&gt; throughout the song. And she did a helluva wonderful job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply Red's "You Make Me Feel Like Brand New" is my favorite ballad of all time. That and the fact that the version in this list is a perfect rendition by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shayne_Ward"&gt;Shayne Ward&lt;/a&gt; during his The X Factor days, made this song ranked this high. Who can resist the innocent voice of Shayne and his falsetto, anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sidenote:&lt;/span&gt; Notice the two Dreamgirls songs? I will not comment on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/080107itunes1506.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Top 5&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like its title, "Diva's Lament (Whatever Happened to My Part?)", is a diva-sung number from "Spamalot", destined to be the actress's showstopper of this musical. Also performed by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sara_Ramirez"&gt;Sara Ramirez&lt;/a&gt;, "Diva's" is a demanding song, not only vocally, but also because of the performer must be irate and funny at the same time. Oh, and the song breaks down the fourth wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tied in the third place are a teen pop number from "Hairspray" called "Without Love" and "Dreamgirls" showstopper and tear-jerker "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jennifer_Hudson"&gt;Jennifer Hudson&lt;/a&gt;. While Without Love was pushed heavily by me in the last quarter of the year, I have hinted earlier last year that "And I Am Telling You" can be one of the tops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Defying Gravity" has always been my favorite. The showstopper from the musical Wicked is screamy, thrilling, composed incredibly, and has a variety of mood involved. Perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen". Until that day at the karaoke comes, "Listen" from the movie "Dreamgirls" will still be played over and over and over again in my iTunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/080107itunes0601.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8012978288379456754?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8012978288379456754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8012978288379456754&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8012978288379456754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8012978288379456754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-years-eves-resolution-update.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve&apos;s Resolution Update'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4435909734138896296</id><published>2007-12-26T07:20:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T07:39:30.646+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diwali - the Office season 3 episode 6</title><content type='html'>Oh, my God. You soooo have to watch &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Office_%28U.S._TV_series%29"&gt;the Office&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwali_%28The_Office_episode%29"&gt;season three episode six titled "Diwali"&lt;/a&gt;. It's HILARIOUS! Even more hilarious if you're Indonesian. See, one of the skit in the beginning of the episode is &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Halpert"&gt;Jim&lt;/a&gt; starts to bike to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071226office0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;He says to the camera that he does it, somewhat inspired by his current boss, Josh. The camera then cut to Josh walking into the Scrampton office in his &lt;del&gt;hotter&lt;/del&gt; cycling outfit. Jim then goes on saying that cycling is better for the environment, saves him some money, is a good exercise, bla bla bla. He says that he now knows that it also makes him really sweaty for work. *giggle*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071226office1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;When he sits down, his colleague, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karen_Filippelli"&gt;Karen&lt;/a&gt;, who sits behind him, says, (and I'm not paraphrasing) "Nice basket." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071226office2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;I laughed so damn hard, only to realize that it wasn't so damn funny. It should be though, for my fellow Indonesians out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go see it. Where else you can see &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B._J._Novak"&gt;BJ Novak&lt;/a&gt; in Indian shirt. So cute. Err ... the shirt is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;i&gt;Basket&lt;/i&gt; is an Indonesian slangcronym for &lt;i&gt;basah ketek&lt;/i&gt;, translated literally to wet underarm, a.k.a eww!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4435909734138896296?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4435909734138896296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4435909734138896296&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4435909734138896296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4435909734138896296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/12/diwali-office-season-3-episode-6.html' title='Diwali - the Office season 3 episode 6'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8695568737000960062</id><published>2007-12-21T07:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T09:37:43.407+07:00</updated><title type='text'>knocked down by Knocked Up</title><content type='html'>It is one of the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Film_Institute_Awards_2007"&gt;AFI's top 10 movies of 2007&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knocked_up#Critical_reviews"&gt;It garners a ton of positive reviews&lt;/a&gt;. It was a movie with the hero I like but not necessarily I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071221knocked.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;But I still think that &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0478311/"&gt;Knocked Up&lt;/a&gt; is the most terrifying movie I've ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the praise? Because they all live in LA, that is why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*shudder*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, it was a knock-off. Don't knock me out with it. And no, I won't end this post with a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.ork/wiki/Knock_knock_joke"&gt;Knock Knock Joke&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8695568737000960062?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8695568737000960062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8695568737000960062&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8695568737000960062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8695568737000960062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/12/knocked-down-by-knocked-up.html' title='knocked down by Knocked Up'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3052447933611264628</id><published>2007-12-15T08:00:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T09:52:38.903+07:00</updated><title type='text'>recent crush</title><content type='html'>OK. All right. Calm down. Chill out. Don't judge me. Stop it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just heard of &lt;a href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Sartorialist&lt;/a&gt; like a couple days ago. I mean I think I've read about The Sartorialist either in German GQ or in GQ, but I don't know if they have a blog. Dang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All right! Shush!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071215sartorialist.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And yeah. Of course like most people, I fell immediately in love with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite so far? &lt;a href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/2007/08/on-streetsummer-bold-east-hampton.html"&gt;Summer Bold, East Hampton, August 2007&lt;/a&gt;. Definitely something that I try to achieve these days. Including that bottled water in hand. Second favorite? &lt;a href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/2007/08/on-street21st-print-new-york-city.html"&gt;21st print, New York City, August 2007&lt;/a&gt;. Not (yet) something that I try to achieve in the mean time (tee hee), but pleasant to look at. Love the shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next. &lt;a href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/2007/07/live-and-let-loose.html"&gt;Live and Let Loose&lt;/a&gt; a.k.a. yeah, if I live in Italy or wherever coastal and go out to see some friends for breakfast on a breezy morning, I also will look like the guy on the right with different shades of color wearing the pants from the guy on the left with matching shade of color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not lost. &lt;a href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/2007/06/fabrizio-in-detail-milano.html"&gt;Fabrizio in Detail, Milano&lt;/a&gt;. It's amazingly brave how he opts to tie his shoelace. I did more or less the same thing with my cargo pants some months ago, I didn't really know how I ended up looking that day, since no &lt;a href="http://www.thesartorialist.com/bio.html"&gt;Scott Schuman&lt;/a&gt; running around. I left those laces out most of the times these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I admit that I browsed heavily only on the warmer months since they are the most applicable in Indonesia. But seeing how cold it can be on this rainy season, is it time to go out in layers?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what I love most from the blog is not looking at the styles, actually. Eventhough it is a very pleasant thing to do. I love reading the comments section more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I suddenly find it necessary to observe closely those "END OF YEAR SALE! - UP TO 70%!" ads on local newspapers and use them "wisely" OR to alter some of my (as Andrea of The Devil Wears Prada put it) "stuff" in my closet. Dayum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3052447933611264628?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3052447933611264628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3052447933611264628&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3052447933611264628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3052447933611264628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/12/recent-crush.html' title='recent crush'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2256186951686283477</id><published>2007-12-12T16:59:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T17:08:12.616+07:00</updated><title type='text'>new year's eve's resolution</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071212itunes.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Bumping &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hairspray_%282007_film%29"&gt;Without Love&lt;/a&gt; to top 5 without having the urge to check &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zac_Efron"&gt;Zac Efron&lt;/a&gt;'s hip thrusts on DVD (again). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bumping &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spamalot"&gt;Find Your Grail&lt;/a&gt; to top 10 without having my neighbours complaining about my poor impersonation of the ever awesome &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sara_Ramirez"&gt;Sara Ramirez&lt;/a&gt;'s, to name a few, "Gra-a-a-a-ail" on 1:45.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be achieved before the clock strikes 12.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2256186951686283477?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2256186951686283477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2256186951686283477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2256186951686283477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2256186951686283477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/12/new-years-eves-resolution.html' title='new year&apos;s eve&apos;s resolution'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2182022583140085566</id><published>2007-12-11T10:32:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T13:57:29.288+07:00</updated><title type='text'>no, I am not anti-Malaysia and this post wasn't meant to spark that kind of tone in this blog either</title><content type='html'>Some months ago, I read an opinion column in &lt;a href="http://thejakartapost.com/"&gt;The Jakarta Post&lt;/a&gt; about the unimportance of tourism marketing of places in Indonesia. The writer suggested Indonesia to just preserve the lavishly beautiful sites that it has and spend more budget in improving the quality of facilities and human resources (affordable English course and complimentary hospitality trainings might be useful) supporting the sites. Extravagant advertisement was simply not needed, as places in Indonesia will speak for themselves. The only thing to do is to have good impressions etched deeply to the heart of the visitors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also implied on that article that the gesture of advertising was started by people involved with tourism in Indonesia after they saw a heavy campaign of tourism from its neighboring countries, especially Malaysia (does Truly Asia ring a bell?) and Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I was too about to fall victim to one of those ads when I voiced my urge to visit Singaporean Sentosa Island, to only be told by a frequent traveler: Ancol is much better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now fellow Indonesians, be proud that you can claim Lombok as your island. Because despite &lt;a href="http://www.bernama.com/bernama/v3/news_lite.php?id=299204"&gt;the extension of Visit Malaysia Year&lt;/a&gt;, New York Times has named &lt;a href="http://wikitravel.org/en/Lombok"&gt;Lombok&lt;/a&gt; as one of its &lt;a href="http://travel.nytimes.com/2007/12/09/travel/09where.html?pagewanted=all"&gt;53 Places to Go in 2008&lt;/a&gt; without any Malaysian sites in sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071211lombok.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;In the meantime, the inclusion on the list has somewhat validated the point suggested in the Jakarta Post column whose author sadly I no longer remember. It was a female expert in tourism with a western name if I may recall. If only the tourism people really see this. But for now, I really just want to know how the only &lt;a href="http://mellyana.blogspot.com/"&gt;tourism&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://mslbm.blogspot.com/"&gt;experts&lt;/a&gt; I know react to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way. I can already conceived a marketing campaign for Lombok in my head. And yes, it involves surfboards. Dang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; To those who wonder where I stand on those alleged thievery, I can only say, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; may happen when you take things for granted. By "this", I also meant cheating spouses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2182022583140085566?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2182022583140085566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2182022583140085566&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2182022583140085566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2182022583140085566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-i-am-not-anti-malaysia-and-this-post.html' title='no, I am not anti-Malaysia and this post wasn&apos;t meant to spark that kind of tone in this blog either'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8892026044417256352</id><published>2007-12-10T06:32:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T17:01:17.886+07:00</updated><title type='text'>big bold beautiful Edna Turnblad</title><content type='html'>Three years ago, &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2006/03/11-reasons-why-i-want-to-be-hugh.html"&gt;the Hugh Jackman&lt;/a&gt; said in his &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tony_Award_for_Best_Leading_Actor_in_a_Musical#2000s"&gt;Tony's Best Leading Actor in a Musical&lt;/a&gt; acceptance speech, "[Peter Allen of 'The Boy from Oz'] is just like the best role I have seen for a guy in a long time." If by "a long time" he meant a year, he hit the jackpot with that sentence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For what it's worth, I believe that Jackman's predecessor, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harvey_Fierstein"&gt;Harvey Fierstein&lt;/a&gt; who won 2003 Tony for the same category has THE best role for a guy. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous female impersonator Fierstein starred in a musical called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hairspray_%28musical%29"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Hairspray&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; based on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hairspray_%281988_film%29"&gt;a 1988 cult movie of the same title&lt;/a&gt;. His character is Edna Turnblad, the lead character's mother. Yes. Mother. Originally in the movie, this role was written for a famous transsexual, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christine_Jorgensen"&gt;Christine Jorgensen&lt;/a&gt;, but rewritten and later played by a famous drag performer, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Divine_%28actor%29"&gt;Divine&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071210hairspray1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;I was unlucky enough to not know how Fierstein or Divine belted the role. I can only imagine how Edna in their hands. But because I &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; lucky enough to live in the era where things like &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt; (and its unbelievably generous users) has been invented, I happened to have a chance to check out generic version of Fierstein's performances which can be reached within a click in my bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37.5 Megabytes (Oh, my heart. I hope I didn't send my speedy usage off the roof again) and &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=03ntjP-Y9h0"&gt;three&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=XGAPXLYyzbg"&gt;musical&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=RqTnatv63tk"&gt;numbers&lt;/a&gt; later, it is so easy for me to compose that sentence I wrote in the second paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fierstein's Edna is a hybrid of theatrically comical, adorable, familiar, and of course hysterical. His body of work is amazing. Check out those three numbers that I talked about and see how he emulates Edna's insecurity, romantic side and fabulousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071210hairspray2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you haven't been living under the rock, you must have heard of a more current &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hairspray_%282007_film%29"&gt;musical movie adaptation of Hairspray&lt;/a&gt; released earlier this year. In this movie, The role Edna went to the hands of the famous &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Travolta"&gt;John Travolta&lt;/a&gt; (Yes! I survive writing a sentence without any condescending tone for the man). I won't bother to write a paragraph telling you all how Travolta did it, but &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=0jd1dhzHWek"&gt;Fierstein he ain't&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most successful Broadway hit, Hairspray is then re-produced in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_End_theatre"&gt;West End&lt;/a&gt;. Fasten your seat belts kids, because the actor cast as Edna is none other than Michael Ball. Yes. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Ball_%28singer%29"&gt;The Michael Ball&lt;/a&gt;. The Michael Ball whose "My place is here. I'll fight with you.." in Les Mis shattered my heart. I can't wait for the videos of his performances featuring his curvaceous figure (Oh, yeah, he is) and his dimples surface in YouTube. Oops, &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=_WWa0y5Iz7w"&gt;spoke&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=Pod3ExfVy1Q"&gt;too soon&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Michael Ball, one of the most expensive actors in West End, has performed anything from Jesus Christ to a woman. Based on that sentence he's like only the most awesomest performer on earth, methinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, I'm still gonna breathe more aerosol than air. And yes, I still think that Fierstein is the best Edna. (Though it's such a joy to see how Michael Ball had so much fun on stage and &lt;a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/10/29/nhair129.xml"&gt;fooled even his hardcore fans&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071210ednas.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; In (You're) Timeless To Me, Fierstein performed the number with then 73-year-old &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dick_Latessa"&gt;Dick Latessa&lt;/a&gt;. All I want for Christmas is wanna be half like him when I am 73.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8892026044417256352?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8892026044417256352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8892026044417256352&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8892026044417256352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8892026044417256352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/12/youtubeian-edna-turnblad.html' title='big bold beautiful Edna Turnblad'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7018028546224714794</id><published>2007-11-28T17:00:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T17:11:14.675+07:00</updated><title type='text'>i should tell you</title><content type='html'>I just realized that I just picked a bad habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, the ideal thing to do after carefully composing an SMS so that it won't exceed 160 characters is press the send button, select the number to send, and then press the confirm button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this routine is done, my cell will return to the composing window as if I was still composing the message. But unluckily I have two other habits that made the current state of the screen ambiguous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt; I delete delivery reports immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt; I like to re-read what I just sent out. In this case, I have to go back to the composing window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, sometimes I leave my phone BEFORE I press the send button just because I thought I hadn't finished composing OR I leave my phone just like that AFTER I re-read my freshly composed message. By then, I don't know whether the message I was reading was already sent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who sometimes received double identical message from me, one a while after the other, now you know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe sometimes I just can't wait any longer for a reply but too cheap to call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7018028546224714794?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7018028546224714794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7018028546224714794&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7018028546224714794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7018028546224714794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-should-tell-you.html' title='i should tell you'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3867986962009412820</id><published>2007-11-23T00:00:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T08:57:56.630+07:00</updated><title type='text'>today's one liner</title><content type='html'>I am 'Wicked'ly loving &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Something_Wicked_This_Way_Comes_%28Ugly_Betty%29"&gt;Ugly Betty season 2 episode 6&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3867986962009412820?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3867986962009412820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3867986962009412820&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3867986962009412820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3867986962009412820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/todays-one-liner.html' title='today&apos;s one liner'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8804200363225077973</id><published>2007-11-20T11:56:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T15:07:22.222+07:00</updated><title type='text'>about a four-letter-word titled book that i'm currently reading</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Crichton"&gt;Michael Crichton&lt;/a&gt;'s latest book titled &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Next_%28novel%29"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Next&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is still as compelling as ever and (for an intrigued mind like mine) still sparks a "Really?". I haven't finished reading it. But I can already say that it is more boring than its predecessors, like &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prey_%28novel%29"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Prey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_%28novel%29"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Timeline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Perhaps will be far less controversial than &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/State_of_Fear"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;State of Fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boring? Well, I mean, I, for one, expected that halfway through the book we will learn more about the people involved with the issues and how the problems materialize before their eyes. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Next&lt;/span&gt;, however, continues to introduce new minor characters that made me confused. It's almost often I said to myself, OK, who are the main characters again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I, third-quarter-way through the book, don't really care anymore how the story will end for the characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071120next.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;But anyway, what drives me to write this post is the passage I read in page 273.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Wait a minute. Height isn't genetic?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For individuals, yes. If you're taller than your friend, it's probably because your parents are taller. But for populations, height is a function of environment. In the last fifty years, Europeans have grown an inch every decade. So have the Japanese. That's too fast for a genetic change. It's entirely an effect of environment - better prenatal care, nutrition, health care, and so on. Americans, by the way, haven't grown at all in this period. They've shrunk slightly, possibly because of poor prenatal care and junk food diets. The point is that the actual relationship of genes and environment is very complicated. Scientists don't yet have a good understanding of how genes work. In fact, there's no general agreement about what a gene &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all due respect to my parents', my older sister's, and my own generation, that kinda a validation for &lt;a href="http://gethrougher.blogspot.com/"&gt;her&lt;/a&gt;, one of her friends, and me, who think that there are more cute Indonesians nowadays than there were before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. Look at people at the malls nowadays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8804200363225077973?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8804200363225077973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8804200363225077973&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8804200363225077973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8804200363225077973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/about-four-letter-word-titled-book-that.html' title='about a four-letter-word titled book that i&apos;m currently reading'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-527630402374151108</id><published>2007-11-16T08:23:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T08:38:10.692+07:00</updated><title type='text'>today's one liner (was supposed to be the title, but there isn't enough room and to somewhat end the trend of long titles)</title><content type='html'>I still can't quite figure it out why after such great pun-ish titles like &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;A Long Way Down&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;How to be Good&lt;/span&gt;, and (of course!) &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;High Fidelity&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Polysyllabic Spree&lt;/span&gt;, the latest novel from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nick_Hornby"&gt;Nick Hornby&lt;/a&gt; was titled a simple search-engine-unfriendly &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Slam&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Can't wait to read it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-527630402374151108?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/527630402374151108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=527630402374151108&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/527630402374151108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/527630402374151108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/todays-one-liner-was-supposed-to-be.html' title='today&apos;s one liner (was supposed to be the title, but there isn&apos;t enough room and to somewhat end the trend of long titles)'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4261797180963015860</id><published>2007-11-14T10:01:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T10:03:11.090+07:00</updated><title type='text'>one minute silence mourning the departure of Djokovic from the 2007 Masters Cup</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;09:59 AM&lt;/span&gt; - [...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;10:00 AM&lt;/span&gt; - I seriously envy everyone with StarSports or Eurosport or whatever like those at their home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4261797180963015860?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4261797180963015860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4261797180963015860&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4261797180963015860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4261797180963015860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/one-minute-silence-mourning-departure.html' title='one minute silence mourning the departure of Djokovic from the 2007 Masters Cup'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2948934852617198373</id><published>2007-11-13T06:40:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T07:12:14.105+07:00</updated><title type='text'>i was tied up in sorrow, lost in my soul at tickle.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The test:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://web.tickle.com/tests/emotions/"&gt;What's Behind Your Emotions?&lt;/a&gt;, which is free until November 18th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The questions:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071113tickle1.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;It's very tempting to answer with &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2005/11/you-are-fing-euphoric.html"&gt;that word&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, innit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The result:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071113tickle3.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Yeah. It's true. So true. See? I used "true" as the adjective for the result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The report:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071113tickle2full.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071113tickle2small.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I kept waiting to read the sentence that says, "&lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/w/westsidestory7630/ifeelpretty273787.html"&gt;I Feel Pretty&lt;/a&gt; should have been your theme of life." [Barney Stinson-ly] Please. (click picture to have a better look)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2948934852617198373?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2948934852617198373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2948934852617198373&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2948934852617198373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2948934852617198373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-was-tied-up-in-sorrow-lost-in-my-soul.html' title='i was tied up in sorrow, lost in my soul at tickle.com'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2355480136365031539</id><published>2007-11-10T06:24:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T06:48:21.954+07:00</updated><title type='text'>i ain't romantic fool</title><content type='html'>All I did was using the best of the right side of my little grey cells and wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-left: 50px;"&gt;Apt xx04&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-left: 50px;"&gt;I hope the rain won't pour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-left: 50px;"&gt;Will you be waiting at the door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-left: 50px;"&gt;with a towel and nothing more?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they said I was a romantic fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously? You wanna see romantic? &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Incredible_Hulk_(TV_series)"&gt;Don't make me romantic. You wouldn't like me when I'm romantic&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note, it's Saturday. Grr..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2355480136365031539?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2355480136365031539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2355480136365031539&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2355480136365031539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2355480136365031539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-aint-romantic-fool.html' title='i ain&apos;t romantic fool'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4353351401694264300</id><published>2007-11-09T09:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T16:15:51.133+07:00</updated><title type='text'>to run or not to run (or no, it will still take a freaking long time for me to get over this already overused Hamlet thingy, so shut up)</title><content type='html'>Since 1999 (I remember it clearly because at that time I was wearing a red ribbon on my right collar, only to be asked by an ignorant lab partner, "Is it someone's birthday? Why are you wearing a ribbon?" Yeah, he got lucky I didn't go home and change to the "I'm with stupid" T-shirt.), there is &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2004/12/011204_01.html"&gt;always a mark&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2005/12/never-too-late.html"&gt;in my calendar&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-three-days-late.html"&gt;on December&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2006/12/due-graphic-you-know-its-1230-am-and-i.html"&gt;1st&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year that mark can even be bigger and bolder because yesterday I got the invitation to join a Stop AIDS! Start Running - 10K Run &amp; 5K Walk 2007 (click picture to see whole flyer).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/07110910kaidsfull.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/07110910kaids.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is only one problem: I couldn't really say right away whether I would run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Not to run:&lt;/span&gt; despite my skinny build and all those physical activities, (&lt;a href="http://mellyana.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mel&lt;/a&gt;, get this) I have low endurance when it comes to running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;To run:&lt;/span&gt; I know, endurance, schmendurance. It can be built and trained anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Not to run:&lt;/span&gt; But training for a 5K means introducing a large amount of cardio in my workout regime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;To run:&lt;/span&gt; It's a good training anyway. Not only physically, but one can also train one's discipline and commitment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Not to run:&lt;/span&gt; That amount of cardio can easily destroy my &lt;del&gt;bulking-up&lt;/del&gt; keeping-the-weight-on program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;To run:&lt;/span&gt; Bulking up is so 1990's anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Not to run:&lt;/span&gt; Based on an edition of Fitness RX that I have, the crash course for a 5K takes 6 (damn, six!) weeks to complete, with some prerequisites that I don't know if I have, when I only have 3 weeks or perhaps less, and the run is 10K anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/0711095ktraining.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;To run:&lt;/span&gt; This could be my &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0583636/"&gt;The Mr. Bowmont&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should stop weighing stuff and start looking for a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Running_mate"&gt;running mate&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Which will be the better running soundtrack actually? &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Run_to_You_%28Whitney_Houston_song%29"&gt;Whitney Houston's Run to You&lt;/a&gt;, or &lt;a href="http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Run-to-Me-lyrics-The-Bee-Gees/4223287EBC48FC3548256BC000243EED"&gt;Bee Gees' Run to Me&lt;/a&gt;? And nah, the theme from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chariots_of_fire"&gt;Chariots of Fire&lt;/a&gt; is far overused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PPS:&lt;/span&gt; Nah, I wasn't inspired by &lt;a href="http://www.etonline.com/news/2007/11/55405/index.html"&gt;the alleged publicity stunt from Mrs. Cruise&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4353351401694264300?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4353351401694264300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4353351401694264300&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4353351401694264300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4353351401694264300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/to-run-or-not-to-run-or-no-it-will.html' title='to run or not to run (or no, it will still take a freaking long time for me to get over this already overused Hamlet thingy, so shut up)'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7987265584611040918</id><published>2007-11-07T22:01:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T09:53:26.333+07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'll cover you</title><content type='html'>Once in a while, not too often though, there were times, like last weekend, when I met someone on a par with me on many levels. This someone specifically was on a par with my pop culture knowledge and musicals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he confessed his obsession on some things, he asked me what I was obsessed with. I said, "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Musical_theatre"&gt;Musical theater&lt;/a&gt;. Clearly, since I spent the whole SATURDAY NIGHT staying in and not sleeping listening to some of them and having marathon on my DVD." Suddenly he sang a number from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Les_Mis%C3%A9rables_%28musical%29"&gt;Les Misérables&lt;/a&gt;, which luckily I kinda know every word, since it is the music of the people who will not be slaves again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked me, "Have you ever watched &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rent_%28musical%29"&gt;Rent&lt;/a&gt;?" I informed him that Rent was actually one of the musicals (movie, this time) that I marathon-ly watched Saturday night. Without any cue, he sang, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Live in my house / I'll be your shelter / Just pay me back / with 1000 kisses&lt;/span&gt;." I replied with ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shit. I know what that song is, I don't know the next line is, I don't know how to sing it. Damn!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px; height: 142px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071107rent.jpg" border="0" alt="Rent - I'll Cover You" /&gt;And later on that night, as we approached &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2006/08/we-drove-almost-one-thousand.html"&gt;that vile franchise that starts to take over the world&lt;/a&gt;, I &lt;del&gt;said&lt;/del&gt; sang, unfortunately off key, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I should tell you / I should tell you&lt;/span&gt; [that I prefer not to have a drink in that place that shouldn't be named]" Of course I got &lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/rent/ishouldtellyou.htm"&gt;the appropriate reply&lt;/a&gt;, which was, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I should tell you / I should tell you&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was too embarrassed to sing it off key and stick with my inability of continuing &lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/rent/illcoveryou.htm"&gt;the previous number&lt;/a&gt;. So. With God (and the collection of my pirated musicals) on my side, I know that I am chosen to do one thing and one thing only this Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Learn how to cover songs from Rent&lt;/span&gt;. My repertoire will be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Light My Candle&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Another Day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I Should Tell You&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take Me or Leave Me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Without You&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;And of course both versions of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'll Cover You&lt;/span&gt;. So had there been a next time, I could reply with, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Be my lover / and I'll cover you&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe not "lover" lover though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7987265584611040918?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7987265584611040918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7987265584611040918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7987265584611040918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7987265584611040918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/ill-cover-you.html' title='i&apos;ll cover you'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7274075063347636235</id><published>2007-11-05T09:09:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T22:11:58.321+07:00</updated><title type='text'>climb every counting</title><content type='html'>I was hanging on to my dear life at least six meters above ground only using all fingers that I have but both of the thumbs. It had stopped raining. The wind was cool. But intimidating. My slippery right shoe try to hold on to a very narrow, jagged, protrusion. My left hand was getting sore. "I can't [hold on]!" I yelled to myself. There were shouting that I understood from down there, but I just couldn't really process them. "Let go of your left foot! Reach the one on your knee!" were only two of other yelling. It sounded a bit panicky. With the last "I can't!", this time it meant I could not reach it, I let go. And fell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The failure, third time in a row, started to sink in as I was hanging there, six meters mid-air. On the way down, I started to see that damn slippery boulder that could cost me my life. When my feet was on the ground, the yelling voices turned to a softer tone encouraging, "That's OK. You'll make it next time. Yeah, wall climbing isn't as easy as it looks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn right it isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the climbing area, I had a difficulty approaching the wall with humility. First, I climbed the jambu tree in front of my house daily. I got to the highest branch. Second, I think I have a better-than-average upper body strength. I can do &lt;a href="http://www.yogacards.com/yoga-postures-2/koundinyasana.html"&gt;koundinyasana 2&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.yogacards.com/yoga-postures-2/headstand-Sirsasana.html"&gt;sirsasana&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.yogacards.com/yoga-postures-2/Bakasana-Crane-pose.html"&gt;bakasana&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.yogacards.com/yoga-postures-2/Astavakrasana.html"&gt;astavakrasana&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.yogacards.com/yoga-postures-2/crane-pose-bakasana-side.html"&gt;parsva bakasana&lt;/a&gt; for a full five breath on a good day. Third, I had strong legs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think that it was gonna be easy. I was just fully prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the first three levels, which I insisted that I tried to conquer these first to brush up my ego, I was doing fine. Despite having zero hours of sleeping on the night before, I got to the top. I was advised to take a break and learn how to do &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bouldering"&gt;bouldering&lt;/a&gt;, moving horizontally using grips which comprises fifty percent of what climbing is all about, before move on to the most difficult one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bouldering helps me a lot to learn that most of the time you do have to do series of maneuvers like throwing your body to the sides or quickly change your leaning foot, or reaching for a grip. It was the first time that I realize that I had longer limbs than I want them to be and despite the countless yoga (and, psst don't tell anyone, but in-front-of-a-mirror dancing) sessions, it is still difficult to tell your body to get to a certain position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This can not get to a certain position is the reason I fell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's like dancing." one of the instructors said. "You have to take your time. Just follow the counting. There are times that you need to go fast there are times when you need to take things slowly." he continued. "You, take things too abruptly. Far too rushed. Just stay cool. Left hand up. Right hand up. Left foot up. Right foot up. Right hand up. Right foot up. And so on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the last try, I tried to emulate this take your time philosophy. And surprisingly, I got to higher grips than the previous attempts. However, this time, my forearms were spent, my fingers were aching, and I know that there will be a next time when I am much more prepared and will be back to conquer the level six wall anyway, so I let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end of the session, aching fingers and all, I thanked the instructors who invited me to come again and the only reply that I can think of was, "Of course!" I have a feeling it even came out an octave too high for I was too excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071105wall.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;On the ride home, I told my climbing partner that I must have looked really awkward trying to utilize my legs the way I did the whole night. He begged to differ. Well before anyone sees any picture, he replied (and I'm not paraphrasing), "I think you looked cute as a button up there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just those words made me determined to climb again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna try? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Panjat Dinding Pondok Indah Mal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mal Pondok Indah 1&lt;br /&gt;Jalan Arteri Pondok Indah&lt;br /&gt;South Jakarta&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7274075063347636235?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7274075063347636235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7274075063347636235&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7274075063347636235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7274075063347636235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/climb-every-counting.html' title='climb every counting'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8495060563232940240</id><published>2007-11-04T07:05:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T08:37:29.205+07:00</updated><title type='text'>the terracota warriors</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Roger Federer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rafael Nadal&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Novak Djokovic&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nikolay Davydenko&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Andy Roddick&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;David Ferrer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fernando Gonzales&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Richard Gasquet&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;Three&lt;/del&gt; Two Spaniards (&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Update:&lt;/span&gt; didn't realize that Gonzales is Chilean). Hmm. My money is on Nadal. Vamos! Djokovic is a serious contender. I would like to see his and Ferrer's game. I would try my best not to bash, what's his name? Ah yeah. Roddick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.masters-cup.com/1/news/2007/gasquet.asp"&gt;Enjoy.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8495060563232940240?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8495060563232940240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8495060563232940240&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8495060563232940240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8495060563232940240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/terracota-warriors.html' title='the terracota warriors'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8432958011544799699</id><published>2007-11-03T23:16:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T01:58:15.989+07:00</updated><title type='text'>towards Survivor: All-Stars 2 part 3</title><content type='html'>Following up (again) what I have written &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-1.html"&gt;part 1&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-2.html"&gt;part 2&lt;/a&gt;, and realizing the fact that season 16 will indeed be an All-Star edition, it's only fair if I finish this long due entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's pick up where we left before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor:_Panama"&gt;Survivor: Panama - Exile Island&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 12th installment of Survivor was actually the third Survivor shot in Panama. However, what made it unique is the fact that the castaways were initially divided into four tribes: younger men, younger women, older men, and older women. Through survivorian true testaments, the final four was surprisingly comprised of one member from each original tribes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Memorable Castaways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Terry Deitz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terry was determined to dominate this season Survivor. He was successful in doing it physically by winning five individual immunity challenges consecutively. Mentally, he was actively trying to shuffle the game only to find his plans fail again and again. He also found the hidden immunity idol buried in Exile Island that kept him safe until final four. On one point of the game, he tried to lure a member of the opposing alliance to jump ship by giving up the hidden immunity idol. The move was considered to be the best strategic move in Survivor that never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cirie Fields&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cirie, everybody's darling. It was amazing seeing Cirie and Terry in this season. For these two players are each other's opposite and worst enemy. Cirie is definitely one of the weakest contestant ever when it comes to physical strength. But she is the only one who's smart enough to do strategic maneuvers in the course of the game. There are some points in the game where Terry tried to gain control by shifting numbers into his side. Almost every time Cirie came to dismantle Terry's plan. In one sentence, everything that Terry is, Cirie isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor:_Cook_Islands"&gt;Survivor: Cook Islands&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This season was a risky one. First, the castaways were divided based on race. Four tribes were conceived: Asian American, African American, Hispanic American, and Caucasian American. Second, most of the castaways were actually recruited rather than selected via audition tapes. However, Survivor: Cook Islands turned out to be one of the best seasons of Survivor to date. For me personally, the game play, the twists and the conclusion was very entertaining to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Memorable Castaways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ozzy Lusth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The runner-up from this season, Ozzy, was a dominating force in challenges. Candice, a fellow competitor, once described him as "half animal, half man, part fish, part monkey, part lord knows what." That pretty much sums up his performance in challenges. Not only that, Ozzy was also a strategic and loyal player, which is proven to be a great asset to his alliance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Parvati Shallow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first episodes of Survivor: Cook Islands, I honestly thought Parvati was there solely to be one of the eye candies of the season. It turns out, that Parvati was a force to be reckoned with. She was one of the strongest female competitor in Survivor history. Her demise was the fact that she was in a bad alliance. She needs another chance and perhaps more spotlight this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor:_Fiji"&gt;Survivor: Fiji&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, Survivor: Fiji is kinda boring to be honest with you. For me, this season was memorable for one thing only. The ugliest final tribal council to date. If you remember the rat-and-snake speech by Susan in the first season, try imagining it came out of each and every jury's mouth. It was gruelly disturbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Memorable Castaways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yau Man Chan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just watch the season. He's definitely an all-star worthy. One of the best players ever to play Survivor. The producers are absolutely losing their minds if they decided to do an all-star without Yau Man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Michelle Yi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michelle is one of the key players responsible for the success of the eventual winner of the season. Earl Cole, the winner of Survivor: Fiji, had never watched Survivor before. Eventhough Yau Man who was the one who approached Earl to make an alliance of two and later on recruited Michelle, she was actually the one who explained to Earl how the game should be (or is usually) played. Besides she had one of the best Survivor moments on episode 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, I have 7 female contestants and 9 male. It means there's still rooms for Survivor: China contestants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a backup, also memorable:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Scout, Eliza and Julie from Vanuatu&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Coby from Palau &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brian, Cindy and Judd from Guatemala&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Becky and Candice from Cook Islands&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can sleep well and see &lt;a href="http://www.tvsquad.com/2007/11/01/whats-on-the-plate-for-next-seasons-survivor/"&gt;the spoiler&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8432958011544799699?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8432958011544799699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8432958011544799699&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8432958011544799699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8432958011544799699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-3.html' title='towards Survivor: All-Stars 2 part 3'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1016253246345788812</id><published>2007-10-16T19:18:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T20:16:11.848+07:00</updated><title type='text'>the return of Peter Petrelli's hair (or lack thereof)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ACHTUNG: minor spoiler to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heroes_%28TV_series%29"&gt;Heroes&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After what I felt like eternity, the owner of &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/03/peter-petrelli-hair-watch.html"&gt;the most delicious hair on TV&lt;/a&gt; returns to everyone's screen this fall. It still takes a while in Indonesia, but thanks to the ingenious work of people who should not be named or I don't know them but I'm so damn thankful for them, we can already meet him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't wonder though, if you see some of his attributes weren't returning with him. First, his memory seems to wander away from his brain. The first thing he said when returning was, "I don't know. I don't know." when he was asked of his name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071016milo1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Second, it seems like his top garment has left him alone. He was found shirtless, only wearing a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helix_symbol_%28Heroes%29"&gt;a helix&lt;/a&gt;-hung necklace from his waist above. I smell a conspiracy between &lt;a href="www.mensfitness.com/exclusives/194"&gt;Men's Fitness&lt;/a&gt; and a trainer who can now put "Bulking Milo Ventimiglia up during off-season Heroes" in his resume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071016milo2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Third, with a better lighting, we now can see that the most delicious hair on TV is not returning. I know. Bummer. There's only two logical explanation for this. (1) The cutbacks made the execs fire some hair stylist. (2) The result of most poll said, Yes, it's distracting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071016milo3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Hairful or hairless (wait, that came off REALLY wrong) it is still exciting to watch Heroes. Except for the Hiro Nakamura's 17th century "adventure" a.k.a yes, I get it, he's the most popular character in season one and the actor even got multi-nominated, but can't we move on, please?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1016253246345788812?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1016253246345788812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1016253246345788812&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1016253246345788812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1016253246345788812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/return-of-peter-petrellis-hair-or-lack.html' title='the return of Peter Petrelli&apos;s hair (or lack thereof)'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4480861519907375720</id><published>2007-10-12T16:53:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T16:57:37.497+07:00</updated><title type='text'>someday I'll be part of your world</title><content type='html'>This is the masterpiece that made me &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;drown&lt;/span&gt; well and deeply into the musical world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071012mermaid.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;For the time being, one can only dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4480861519907375720?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4480861519907375720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4480861519907375720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4480861519907375720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4480861519907375720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/someday-ill-be-part-of-your-world.html' title='someday I&apos;ll be part of your world'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8676651475672378460</id><published>2007-10-10T10:53:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T01:58:59.265+07:00</updated><title type='text'>towards Survivor: All-Stars 2 part 2</title><content type='html'>As always, some tens of days after I wrote &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-1.html"&gt;this piece&lt;/a&gt;, I found the time the will the urge all other the the I need to continue the series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to be honest with you, I am actually a bit panicking since &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor15/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Survivor: China&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; has been aired for like three weeks and that means, Survivor: 16 is already being shot. That means, there is already an All-Star cast &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;if&lt;/span&gt; the 16th installment is an All-Star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ow. Kay. Memorable castaways from every season. Let's start again from season 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor9"&gt;Survivor: Vanuatu&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survivor: Vanuatu is the second season after Survivor: Amazon where the castaways were divided into two tribes based on gender. Men vs women. Funnily, the same early conflict occurred in both seasons. Within the tribe, division occurred based on age. Another memorable event is a strong female alliance pagonging the guys one by one, leaving a guy named Chris be the only guy in the final seven. Female alliance crumbled when they decided to give Chris a room and let Eliza go first. She was soon recruited by Chris who revealed the vote plot. The rest is history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor9"&gt;Survivor: Vanuatu&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ami Cusack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ami might be remembered as was one of first two open lesbian castaways on the show. But more to that, Amy managed to subtly command a ship laden with a risky team called female alliance. Viewers might remember her as the one who hates all the guys. I remember her as one of Survivor's best players to be dethroned from power with an inconspicuous lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Twila Tanner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twila is Ami's nemesis. She swore (on her only son) that she will be with Ami and the alliance until the end. Somewhere along the way, despite of being promised a place in final two by two most powerful people in the female alliance, she broke her vows by jumping ship just because she listened to her closest ally. Her change of game plan brought Twila to final two. Her less strategic final tribal council made sure that she didn't go further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brook Geraghty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait. Who's Brook? He's the first to be voted of in the season. What makes him All-Star worthy, then? Here's the deal. Brook is a HUGE fan of the series. He loves the game, wants to play the game, was ready to pull some strings only to be blindsided being conceived as cocky. His post-interview was full of regrets that he didn't wiggle much during the first tribal. He sounded really generous on that. Producers should really give him another chance. Besides, he has the best abs in the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor10"&gt;Survivor: Palau&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two initial tribes in Survivor: Palau. Ulong and Koror. After season 1 has "pagong" inducted to the Survivor dictionary as a verb, we owe it to this season for the word "ulong". To ulong means to demolished another tribe by winning unbreakable streaks of immunity challenges. Because Koror was successful ulonging its competition, there was no merge in this season. The last member of Ulong tribe was told that she should then join Koror tribe. That was a Survivor first, and in addition, there are still a lot of firsts occured. For my money, this is Survivor with the best production design, eventhough the game element is really boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Memorable Castaways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ian Rosenberger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian, who was the first winner of the first immunity challenge 10 minutes or so into the game, should have been the ultimate winner. He picked Koror tribe who successfully ulongs their competition. He was about to win the final immunity challenge had he not given it up. Ian's word was that he picked friendship over 1 million dollars. My word was what a perfect boring closure for this already boring season. But by saying his words, Ian stays in my mind as a castaway with the biggest heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephenie_LaGrossa"&gt;Stephenie LaGrossa.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was dubbed as the strongest female contender on Survivor. I concur. In one of the most grueling challenges ever on Survivor, she managed to be the only female contestant left competing. Amazing. Steph was then invited to compete again in the next season, with a big target on her back, and made it to final two. Why give her yet another chance, though? Just so that we see whether she's really a bad luck or not. This doesn't change the fact that I can't stand her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor11/"&gt;Survivor: Guatemala&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the beginning of the season, two important factors of the show were revealed. The return of two castaways from the season prior: Stephenie LaGrossa and Bobby Jon Drinkard is one. The second is the 11-mile hike through the Guatemalan jungle as the first reward challenge. It lasted close to 24 hours and were concluded only by mere minutes difference between the two tribes. Nothing is really memorable in this season except for Gary Hogeboom, an ex-NFL quarterback, who tried to hide his true identity by saying that his name was Gary Hawkins, only being outed 5 minutes into the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Memorable Castaways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Gary Hogeboom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least he had a strategy into the game: masking his true identity. He was the first person ever on Survivor who found an individual Immunity Idol, a later recurring game element of the game. I kinda suspect that he was actually in a tight alliance with Danni. Whether the alliance was based on starstruck, one never knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Rafe Judkins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the first openly gay Mormon on Survivor, Rafe has all the gay viewers' eyes on him. Funnily, one of the first impressions on Rafe his inability to climb a rope ladder in a challenge, that subsequently cost his team the challenge. But then, Rafe proved that he was actually one of the best strategic player on Survivor. Not having any clear physical asset, he managed to puppeteer the ouster of his fellow tribe mates. He was the best contender to win in final four, until he sort of giving up his position in final three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continued to: &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/11/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-3.html"&gt;part 3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8676651475672378460?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8676651475672378460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8676651475672378460&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8676651475672378460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8676651475672378460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-2.html' title='towards Survivor: All-Stars 2 part 2'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-878159442372388254</id><published>2007-10-09T14:38:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T14:39:41.014+07:00</updated><title type='text'>today's one liner</title><content type='html'>Is it freaky to wonder which undies to wear at Idul Fitri?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-878159442372388254?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/878159442372388254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=878159442372388254&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/878159442372388254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/878159442372388254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/todays-one-liner.html' title='today&apos;s one liner'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2490874963244367985</id><published>2007-10-07T18:43:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T18:45:10.218+07:00</updated><title type='text'>mood: super panic</title><content type='html'>I just realize this afternoon that I don't know the whereabouts of my mobile phone. And I can't (exactly) remember the last time I used it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2490874963244367985?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2490874963244367985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2490874963244367985&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2490874963244367985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2490874963244367985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/mood-super-panic.html' title='mood: super panic'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7802903072997038933</id><published>2007-10-06T11:45:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T12:29:36.091+07:00</updated><title type='text'>because I was late to squat when playing tak lari jongkok</title><content type='html'>Since now I'm one of the its, I have to do the thing &lt;a href="http://mellyana.blogspot.com/2007/10/aku-manusia-aneh.html"&gt;she did in this post&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess 8 little unusual things about me, eh. First things first, only 8? Ehehe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt; He's only a random guy that I don't and  don't want to and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;prolly&lt;/span&gt; will never know, but I really can't stand &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Cruise"&gt;Tom Cruise&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt; Because the communal toilet in my junior high freaks me out, I successfully graduated without going into and peeing on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt; Call me shallow, but as a customer, things need to be visually appealing or at least well-designed. Eventhough at the end of the day, I kept putting features before looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt; I have a tendency to later on really like something I previously really hated, take &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_Ain%27t_Here_Anymore"&gt;Love Ain't Here Anymore&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nsync"&gt;NSync&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt; The best way to celebrate birthday is by not celebrating it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;6.&lt;/span&gt; Compulsive is my middle name when it comes to accuracy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt; I use math instead of memory or logic everytime someone asks me questions like, "How old are you?" or "What time will you be home?" or "How many guys will tag along?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8.&lt;/span&gt; Unless I'm on vacation, since 1998, there hasn't been a day gone by without me playing a wee bit (or LOT) of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Starcraft"&gt;Starcraft&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I have 8 friends who reads this blog and blogs and hasn't been taken. So, I'm the last it, methinks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7802903072997038933?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7802903072997038933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7802903072997038933&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7802903072997038933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7802903072997038933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/because-i-was-late-to-squat-when.html' title='because I was late to squat when playing &lt;i&gt;tak lari jongkok&lt;/i&gt;'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1150938840620418791</id><published>2007-10-05T22:54:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T23:05:32.773+07:00</updated><title type='text'>must read for any boybands mania (do they still use this word?) out there</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/fame/features/2007/11/pearlman200711?printable=true&amp;currentPage=all"&gt;Lou Pearlman's story in Vanity Fair&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lou_Pearlman"&gt;Lou Pearlman&lt;/a&gt; is the man who was responsible for the existence of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Backstreet_Boys"&gt;Backstreet Boys&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nsync"&gt;NSync&lt;/a&gt;, and for those of you who stay or have stayed in Germany, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/US5"&gt;US5&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/US5"&gt;US5&lt;/a&gt;. Hihihihihihihi..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scary, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1150938840620418791?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1150938840620418791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1150938840620418791&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1150938840620418791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1150938840620418791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/must-read-for-any-boybands-mania-do.html' title='must read for any boybands mania (do they still use this word?) out there'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3451406983414518697</id><published>2007-10-04T11:00:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T11:40:31.185+07:00</updated><title type='text'>how friendster cracks me up</title><content type='html'>Dear &lt;a href="http://walkofcredo.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;NDC a.k.a Credo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, &lt;a href="http://walkofcredo.blogspot.com/2007/09/at-begining.html"&gt;Delft&lt;/a&gt; must really have changed you a LOT. Please tell me, was it the stress, the climate, the food, or the culture that has the most impact on you? Because seriously, I can't tell which one you are anymore from your avatar picture on &lt;a href="http://friendster.com"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt;. Are you the left one or the right one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't met for like months and still months to come until you got back from Delft, I know, and I seriously doubt that I have memory-loss-related disease, and I know that were your picture in my computer, it is not my most-viewed file anyway. So remind me please, which one are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1.5em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071004ndc.gif" border="0" alt="NDC's avatar on Friendster" /&gt;Dear &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Olan&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we haven't been the best of friends for the past 10 years since we left high school eventhough we were enrolled in the same college. Seeing your new pic on Friendster though, I am so happy with your decision that you're now wearing a jilbab. Wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You? Jilbab? It's not really for you, innit? So, is there something bigger you want to tell us here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1.5em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071004olan.gif" border="0" alt="Olan's avatar on Friendster" /&gt;Dear &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;NDC and Olan&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, you guys owe it to friendster's algorithm. Don't take my post personally. Hehehe.. There's still thousands of profiles out there needed to be rescued from this errr ... hilariousity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3451406983414518697?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3451406983414518697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3451406983414518697&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3451406983414518697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3451406983414518697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-friendster-cracks-me-up.html' title='how friendster cracks me up'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-8326736196394755540</id><published>2007-10-02T15:47:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T13:32:16.612+07:00</updated><title type='text'>reliving Olivia Olson moment</title><content type='html'>Well. &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/name/nm1470322/"&gt;Olivia Olson&lt;/a&gt; may only have a little screen time during &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0314331/"&gt;Love Actually&lt;/a&gt;. But for me, hers is the only scene from any movies I can remember when I saw the thing pictured here below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 1em; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/071002scissorsisters.jpg" border="0" alt="Scissor Sisters DVD" /&gt;The talked-about scene goes like this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block; margin: 1em auto 0px; text-align: center; font-family : Courier, "Courier New", serif;"&gt;JOANNA [singing]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block; margin: 0px 100px; padding: 0; font-family : Courier, "Courier New", serif;"&gt;All I want for Christmas is ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block; margin: 0px auto; text-align: center; font-family : Courier, "Courier New", serif;"&gt;[short pause, high-pitched]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block; margin: 0 100px 1em; font-family : Courier, "Courier New", serif;"&gt;youuuuuuuuu!&lt;/span&gt;Note to self: start saving up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-8326736196394755540?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/8326736196394755540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=8326736196394755540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8326736196394755540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/8326736196394755540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/reliving-olivia-olson-moment.html' title='reliving Olivia Olson moment'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3684972307849991600</id><published>2007-09-28T05:21:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T13:35:16.134+07:00</updated><title type='text'>yaaaaaayyyyyy!!!!! (a.k.a. Project Runway season 4)</title><content type='html'>My decision to stay up after &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;sahur&lt;/span&gt; (eating before fasting in the deadly wee hours of the morning) and log in to some of my regular sites fruited an absolutely wonderful 2-hour activity: browsing through all of 15 contestants of &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/about"&gt;Project Runway season 4&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/index.php"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070927pr4_contestants.jpg" border="0" alt="Project Runway 4 Contestants" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;First impression&lt;/span&gt;, some familiar faces. &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/Steven.php"&gt;Steven Rosengard&lt;/a&gt; is easily recognized as a semifinalist from last season. His bio video was even shown for 10 seconds. From the bio, he reminds me a bit of &lt;a href="http://www.austinscarlett.com/"&gt;Austin Scarlett&lt;/a&gt; sans the classically feminine outfit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/Jillian.php"&gt;Jillian Lewis&lt;/a&gt; is also a season 3 semifinalist. Again, her audition and bio video were also shown. Reading her profile on the bravo website, I can conclusively say, "What an amazing resume!". I wish she'll be one of the top 4 showing on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_York_Fashion_Week"&gt;Olympus Fashion Week&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recruiting returnees is only fair though. Third season's fourth and fifth and fourteenth finisher's are also second season's hopefuls. And no one can ever forget &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=LymE8uxqJts"&gt;Daniel Franco (where did you go?)&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Second impression&lt;/span&gt;, thank God that unlike &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Design_Star"&gt;HGTV Design Star&lt;/a&gt;, the show is not looking for a new host for a new television design show. Otherwise, &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/Jack.php"&gt;Jack Mackenroth&lt;/a&gt; will win hands down. He's a (get this) designer who swims competitively AND only 38 years young AND models for fitness and fashion AND owns (owned?) a menswear store (cleverly called "Jack" and thankfully not "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_McFarland"&gt;Just Jack&lt;/a&gt;") AND has a quirky sense of humour (I am so on board with his fashion must) AND is working on his memoir AND openly HIV positive. Talking about a role model.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070927jack.gif" border="0" alt="Jack Mackenroth" /&gt;When I saw the contestants on HGTV Design Star before the competition even started, I already said that &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Bromstad"&gt;David Bromstad&lt;/a&gt; made the competition field uneven. He ends up to be the winner. Jack could easily be like that with that impressive brag sheet and that story. But let's see how he can excel in this emphasized-on-womenswear show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Third impression&lt;/span&gt;, is &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/Sweet_P.php"&gt;Sweet P&lt;/a&gt; a morph between &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/3/bio/Laura_Bennett"&gt;Laura Bennett&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/3/bio/Jeffrey_Sebelia"&gt;Jeffrey Sebelia&lt;/a&gt;? Heh, that would be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Fourth impression&lt;/span&gt;. Will &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heidi_Klum"&gt;Heidi&lt;/a&gt; shout "Fifteeeeeen deee-signers!" or "Fifteeeeeen contestants!" this year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Fifth impression&lt;/span&gt;, who're my favourites? Judging only from the bio is difficult. I still remember clearly last year where I decided that my favourite was &lt;a href="www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/3/bio/Bradley_Baumkirchner"&gt;Bradley Baumkirchner&lt;/a&gt; only to find that his first garment was only OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, judging from the resume, I like &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jillian Lewis&lt;/span&gt;. From the fashion must, I clicked with &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/Christian.php"&gt;Christian Siriano&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. From personality, I am rooting for &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Steven Rosengard&lt;/span&gt;. From where they hail, of course &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/Rami.php"&gt;Rami Kashou&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is interesting. For sentimental reasons, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jack Mackenroth&lt;/span&gt; is the one. And for production value, I think &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Project_Runway/season/4/bios/Chris.php"&gt;Chris March&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sweet P&lt;/span&gt; is fun to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So are you in?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3684972307849991600?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3684972307849991600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3684972307849991600&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3684972307849991600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3684972307849991600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/09/yaaaaaayyyyyy-aka-project-runway-season.html' title='yaaaaaayyyyyy!!!!! (a.k.a. Project Runway season 4)'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4992257329123719956</id><published>2007-09-25T22:20:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T23:56:36.275+07:00</updated><title type='text'>to drink or not to drink</title><content type='html'>So. What came out of my recent 5-day trip to Bali, the island of Gods as they may say? Hmm, not much but three things to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing, I will keep it to myself. The second thing is whether I could be a step closer to be &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chris_Lowell"&gt;Chris Lowell&lt;/a&gt;'s character on Private Practice one day. You know, work during the day, surf during the before and after day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the third thing is the most important one: I was seriously thinking about being a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drinking#Alcohol"&gt;drinker&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation came up on the second dinner on the island, where I said to my company that I was thinking of adding drinking to one of my bad habits. So instead of checking the option "No" in one of those internet social network services, I might someday check the radio button that says "Yes" or "Socially" when it comes to choose the answer beside "Drink".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070925drink.JPG" border="0" alt="Drinks on Kuta Beach" /&gt;My company asked me the reason of this sudden change. He knows exactly that I don't drink, I hate the taste of beer, I don't need alcohol to alter my mood (gosh, I'm already a sanguine for crying out loud), I won't allow myself to pay those alcoholic beverage taxes, and there is this thing that's called my religion. Oh, and I'm a sucker for healthy living crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said the reason of sudden change was that I am just one of those guys who wants to know everything and tries about anything. If I would someday try bungee jumping, why wouldn't I start drinking? And I told him, but then again, if I start to let myself be tolerant with alcohol, that means I'll be tolerant with alcohol for the rest of my life. That means, I will consume something alcoholic whenever the chance is there. I'll drink the next time the Greek restaurant hands me a free shot of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ouzo"&gt;Ouzo&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long night at a bar or shooting pool means accompanied by a bottle of beer or a glass of cocktail. Even dinner and celebration should now be liquorized if I want to do it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another reason of change is that I feel it's a pity when for example I visit Ireland without tasting any whiskey or those Irish coffee or ... well you got my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My company told me not to be too self-conscious when it comes to this kind of thing. He told me to take it easy, drink whenever I want to, don't drink when I don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like a good plan. But then again, he's European to whom, drinking (alcoholic beverage) is like drinking (water). It's only another option. To us Indonesians, someone who drinks will be looked at differently. Someone who drinks is usually labeled as someone who likes to be drunk. It can change how people look at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe, I don't really know how most Indonesians feel, because we rarely talk about this. This is so pre-marital sex all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, two days after the conversation, I decided that I will not be a drinker just yet. I just love the look on people when I told them, "I don't drink." It just feels that that's the me I love. And if you find that someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, did I just quote &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carrie_Bradshaw"&gt;Carrie Bradshaw&lt;/a&gt;? Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Notice the "yet" in one paragraph before the last? Yeah, the thought still lingers so I say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4992257329123719956?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4992257329123719956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4992257329123719956&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4992257329123719956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4992257329123719956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/09/to-drink-or-not-to-drink.html' title='to drink or not to drink'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7145124733578247246</id><published>2007-09-10T22:04:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T23:10:06.788+07:00</updated><title type='text'>2007 MTV VMA (Very Messy Awards)?</title><content type='html'>OK, people. Please tell me when will the 2007 MTV VMA be re-broadcasted. Please please please tell me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEED to see how AWFUL Britney's performance was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; True there is always &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihH6TpxPcRI"&gt;youtube&lt;/a&gt;. Also true that my speedy usage has rocketed to Mars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Update:&lt;/span&gt; It will be aired on MTV Asia on Saturday, October 13, 4 pm WIB.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7145124733578247246?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7145124733578247246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7145124733578247246&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7145124733578247246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7145124733578247246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/09/2007-mtv-vma-very-messy-awards.html' title='2007 MTV VMA (Very Messy Awards)?'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1192826630740286698</id><published>2007-09-10T07:00:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T07:21:05.929+07:00</updated><title type='text'>monday morning magic</title><content type='html'>I woke up like some tens of minutes ago, re-turned on my lappers to check whether that &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roger_Federer"&gt;Swiss dude&lt;/a&gt; did some another miracles against that &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novak_Djokovic"&gt;Djoko &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;berondong&lt;/span&gt; dude&lt;/a&gt; yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I found out that the Swiss dude did, I said, "He's so scary."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what ESPN.com's recent article on him is called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sports.espn.go.com/sports/tennis/usopen07/news/story?id=3011976"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 487px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070910espncom.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way. The equivalent of Roger Federer on television series is &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Amazing_Race"&gt;The Amazing Race&lt;/a&gt;. Just &lt;a href="http://emmys.org/awards/2007pt/nominations_crtv.php?action=search_db#1"&gt;check this out&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1192826630740286698?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1192826630740286698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1192826630740286698&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1192826630740286698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1192826630740286698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/09/monday-morning-magic.html' title='monday morning magic'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7437510556330994940</id><published>2007-09-07T20:28:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T20:45:48.409+07:00</updated><title type='text'>no wonder Garbage calls it "I'm Only Happy When It Rains"</title><content type='html'>Today, it rained so damn hard. It was five o'clock. But the sky was again so dark it looked like it was five o'clock twelve hours earlier. After a while, without any thunders, lightnings or the first batch of water from the sky that may prepare us, it rained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The water hitting the earth made different sounds. On my roof, they made an unrythmically tap-dance-like noise. Outside on the balcony, they created splashes. Down there on the ground, I assumed that it made a tiny thumping thud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While falling, the streams of water created this beautiful illusion on the air. They made the air misty. White but not white. Dark but not grey. Foggy but no fog. Just remarkably beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And only at this time I realized that every time it rained hard I wanted to tell someone about it. Just a random someone from my phone book or my friends list on an IM or my I-know-them-but-I-do-not-really-know-them-to-tell-some-personal-stuff. I think, I just want them to know that they're there where they are, and I'm here where I am, and we may share the same existence, but we are on opposite sides of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do miss rain. But not as much as missing telling someone that it rains.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7437510556330994940?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7437510556330994940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7437510556330994940&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7437510556330994940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7437510556330994940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-wonder-garbage-calls-it-im-only.html' title='no wonder Garbage calls it &quot;I&apos;m Only Happy When It Rains&quot;'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-5767304320304744738</id><published>2007-09-06T20:30:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T21:08:08.961+07:00</updated><title type='text'>flushing meadows update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.usopen.org/en_US/news/articles/2007-09-04/200709041188898720531.html"&gt;Why Nadal? Why?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. Eventhough playing on my iTunes is the music from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miss_Saigon"&gt;Miss Saigon&lt;/a&gt;, I didn't say (or sing) the sentence above like &lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/misssaigon/whygodwhy.htm"&gt;this song&lt;/a&gt;. Just because I am still aware that Nadal is not (yet) a God, and I am clearly not vocally adept to be &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miss_Saigon#Characters"&gt;Chris&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on my fourth day of being sick. Referring to my "The Beginner's Guide to Classic Yoga", the problem lies on my third Chakra. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manipura"&gt;From this entry&lt;/a&gt;, I learn that this Chakra is responsible for dynamism, energy and will-power. No wonder I felt very undynamic and unenergetic and lazy today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yesterday's &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vinyasa"&gt;Vinyasa&lt;/a&gt; felt like hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this morning &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_You_I_Do"&gt;"Love You I Do"&lt;/a&gt; routine looked like a "Hate Me You Will" session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-5767304320304744738?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/5767304320304744738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=5767304320304744738&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5767304320304744738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5767304320304744738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/09/flushing-meadows-update.html' title='flushing meadows update'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1371150359908741322</id><published>2007-08-31T22:38:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T22:55:31.083+07:00</updated><title type='text'>birthday frenzy</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow will be my niece's first birthday that I get to co-celebrate. There will be picture takings. Present openings. Cake eatings (Yum!). Singings. Hand clappings. Picture takings. Picture takings... Oh, my God. PICTURE TAKINGS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realize that tomorrow can be a bad facial hair day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1371150359908741322?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1371150359908741322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1371150359908741322&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1371150359908741322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1371150359908741322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/birthday-frenzy.html' title='birthday frenzy'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3361966218528759269</id><published>2007-08-30T10:30:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T00:03:15.839+07:00</updated><title type='text'>undies cover ye channel</title><content type='html'>I have two jackets that fit me very close to a dream. One is S. The other one is S (46). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually my T-shirts are S. But some are Ms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a pair of cargo pants in the size of XS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shirts from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zara_%28clothing%29"&gt;that retail that fits me the best&lt;/a&gt; need to be M if I want to be normal. And S if I want to be skimpy. Mostly I prefer skimpy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't really explain why after measuring my waist I need to have bought L (or even XL) undies instead of M ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have four pairs of new M-sized undies in my drawer that may never be used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, no, you don't need to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 400px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/worth.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3361966218528759269?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3361966218528759269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3361966218528759269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3361966218528759269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3361966218528759269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/undies-cover-ye-channel.html' title='undies cover ye channel'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6519664839572565340</id><published>2007-08-28T22:17:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T22:36:16.809+07:00</updated><title type='text'>self-diagnosed whatever</title><content type='html'>I've sunk so low. I've sunk very low. I have sunk &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; low. How low? Well, as low as one can possibly sink. So, that low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I yelped yesterday. That's right. Yelped. A tiny little yelp. That's it. Reminds me of the sound that &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2006/03/lovely-day.html"&gt;one of those beautiful creatures&lt;/a&gt; made when their master went out to work and they were left with me. Yelp. Not an "Awwwww....". Or an already overused (How overused, you asked? Even my turning-three-in-four-days niece uses it already, and people who are responsible for her all point their fingers at me.) "Oh, my God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no. Not a full sentence either metaphoric or literal. Not a word. Not even an interjection can be translated by characters. No. No. No. No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A yelp. Out-of-nowhere squeaky yelp. Scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason: I was rewatching &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/How_i_met_your_mother"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"How I Met Your Mother"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. And I yelped. I yelped because one of those &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ted_Mosby"&gt;Ted Mosby&lt;/a&gt; non-romantic turned romantic moments. Grrrr. I didn't even know why I yelped. Touched perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it. I've sunk so low. I yelped while watching &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"How I Met Your Mother"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; I know everybody is all about &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Patrick_Harris"&gt;Neil Patrick Harris&lt;/a&gt; when it comes to this series, but I'm all about &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marshall_Eriksen"&gt;Marshall&lt;/a&gt;. He's such a fine character. And the actor who portrays him has a name that reminds you of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kegel_exercise"&gt;that DIY-no-one-will-know-anyway-that-you're-doing-it exercise&lt;/a&gt;. I'm just saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PPS:&lt;/span&gt; Oh, I'm not saying that NPH is not good, no. He's good. Goooooooood, even. I'm just saying that as a character, Marshall is ... newer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6519664839572565340?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6519664839572565340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6519664839572565340&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6519664839572565340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6519664839572565340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/self-diagnosed-whatever.html' title='self-diagnosed whatever'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1560765874765614791</id><published>2007-08-26T21:24:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T21:27:23.530+07:00</updated><title type='text'>now in Discovery Travel and Living</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Bourdain:_No_Reservations"&gt;Anthony Bourdain: New Reservations&lt;/a&gt; goes to Indonesia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rerun: Tomorrow morning at 9:00.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1560765874765614791?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1560765874765614791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1560765874765614791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1560765874765614791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1560765874765614791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/now-in-discovery-travel-and-living.html' title='now in Discovery Travel and Living'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-5157901945796583618</id><published>2007-08-24T23:56:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T23:58:46.935+07:00</updated><title type='text'>this woman that</title><content type='html'>Read &lt;a href="http://www.esquire.com/women/the-sexiest-woman-alive/mysterywoman0807"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, and then &lt;a href="http://www.esquire.com/women/the-sexiest-woman-alive/mysterywoman0907"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlize_Theron"&gt;her&lt;/a&gt;, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; Thanks to &lt;a href="http://gethrougher.blogspot.com/"&gt;her&lt;/a&gt; who made me hooked. Sorta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-5157901945796583618?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/5157901945796583618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=5157901945796583618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5157901945796583618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5157901945796583618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-woman-that.html' title='this woman that'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4661693283935042434</id><published>2007-08-23T13:04:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T08:26:11.850+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grey's A Knot to Me</title><content type='html'>Somewhere, in this world, where real things are, there should be a wall. On this wall there should be a rack. On this rack there should be numerous awards. On these awards are names, names of people who help create &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grey%27s_anatomy"&gt;"Grey's Anatomy"&lt;/a&gt;. (Watch it, link is full of spoilers from previous seasons)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching "Grey's Anatomy" makes me want to hurt myself. Badly enough to have a surgical case and be admitted at that place where those five interns spend most of their days. Lightly enough to still be able to interact with them, getting involved with the dramas, throwing out useless and pointless "advice", holding my ears out so freaking wide so that I am updated with all who-is-screwing-who-who-is-screwing-who-else shebang. And most importantly subtly enough so that I won't be transferred to psych.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm one season behind where the series actually is now, and believe me I was never bored. You know how they say that you should never say never, but NEVER. Watching it feels like that I've been tied down to my chair. Like, with a very strong knot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was torn if I have to decide what's so good about the series. On one day, I would think that the acting was superior, far superior from other hospital dramas. But another day, I was certain it was the writing. Or, wait. Maybe it was the casting director who had done a one hell of a good job. But it's got to be the music supervisor who successfully fuses this today it's current cool music tomorrow it's haunting theme to the series, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were an actor, and I were cast on "Grey's", I would have been very scared. Like scared-of-hell scared. Like I-will-play-the-life-of-a-surgeon-who-doesn't-have-a-life scared. Why? Because the acting is so demanding. And I know that "so" only consists of two characters so it doesn't really do that sentence justice, but so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was demanding because little by little the producers decided to reveal layers of layers of the character's life. And their emotions. They will only have their core personality to work with, but as humanly as they are, different emotions from each of the characters are needed to come out in the series. And so far, two seasons in, the acting work from the group is compelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So by the time &lt;a href="http://www.emmys.tv/awards/primetimeawards.php"&gt;59th Emmy&lt;/a&gt; is being celebrated, I'll be waiting to know who will take home the statue for the best supporting actress in a drama series. I don't really care who will, though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 500px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070823emmy.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;As long as it's &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sandra_Oh"&gt;Sandra Oh&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; OK, I admit it. I actually can not really talk much about the Emmys since I haven't even watched a single episode of "The Sopranos". Sopranos schmopranos. Meh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4661693283935042434?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4661693283935042434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4661693283935042434&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4661693283935042434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4661693283935042434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/greys-knot-to-me.html' title='Grey&apos;s A Knot to Me'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7640229470404714967</id><published>2007-08-22T09:40:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T10:42:46.503+07:00</updated><title type='text'>bar tending bartenders</title><content type='html'>Everybody should have a bartender. A stranger you know by first name basis. A stranger who eventhough you told them about sometimes embarrassing sometimes frustrating sometimes exhilarating stories, barely knows you enough to call you their friend. A stranger whom you comfortable enough to talk to about your day in a non-intimately way like you might have done with your lover or partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A stranger works in your happy place, ready for you every time you walk in, ready for exchanging greetings, but will not be offended of feel left out if you come with your friend and decide to talk to them the whole night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't go to bars, hence I don't have "my" bartender. But I have my "bartender". Four of them to be precise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center; width: 500px; height: 256px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070822bartender.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;You see, they were the firsts to know that I lost my cell. I told one of them and saying things like: Shit. That's just shitty right? Downright shitty. Shitty shitty. And they said comforting stuff like: Ah, come on. It's just not your day. And if he &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt; my bartender, he would have said: This one's on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told them when I had to attend an emotionally-difficult-to-attend wedding. My cousin. Who is a male, 27, was born like three months after I was. Gah! They were like: Good luck with it. Come here after it, though. Releases some stress. And if he &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt; my bartender, he would have said: ... and the drinks then will be on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I approached the counter where they work behind with a book in hand. One of them asked what the book I was having. And I said that it was &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/bookity-book.html"&gt;Stardust&lt;/a&gt; and perhaps they wouldn't be interested in it anyway. The movie would be out soon anyway, so better wait for the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them surprisingly told me that he knew the movie. "There is this guy, right? He's promising a girl that he will return to her, and the girl waits, something like that." I think he was blushing seeing me surprised that he knew this plot line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, plot lines like that can easily be found in countless movie titled similar too Kuch Kushie Dewanna Mil Hai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, he said one thing: "And then, there is this girl, who's a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;fallen star&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was like, "Right! How'd you know that?" I then had to brief him and two other "bartender" about Stardust, careful enough not to spoil them. And had they not been my bartenders, I would definitely ask them whether they wanted to catch it together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited finding out a side of my bartender that I have never seen before. You see things like this, finding out sides or layers of people, are one of the things that really excites me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess that explains why I suck in relationships then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7640229470404714967?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7640229470404714967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7640229470404714967&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7640229470404714967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7640229470404714967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/bar-tending-bartenders.html' title='bar tending bartenders'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4659360688189266510</id><published>2007-08-20T19:07:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T21:04:28.235+07:00</updated><title type='text'>affairs with series finales</title><content type='html'>As an avid TV person, I get &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; feeling every time I watch a non-reality TV season finale. In order to know "that", you have to put my thoughts into &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pensieve#Pensieve"&gt;the Pensieve&lt;/a&gt; and see what my point is. But since I wouldn't allow you to, let me pick some of my thoughts for public consumption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, prior to watching a finale, there is this feeling of not wanting to let go. It's like the feeling of having a temporary goodbye. Like when your boy/girlfriend have to go for a work trip abroad for example. You know you'll see each other again, but in the mean time, you miss them for some of the fact that they're not there, and you are curious what is going on with them. That at least happened to me every time season finale of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friends"&gt;Friends&lt;/a&gt; were aired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also this feeling of having an after-a-fight talk that you do with your loved ones. Some revelations are wanted. Some explanations are needed. Well, maybe lots of it. If I don't get explanation (or the explanation is not that satisfactory), then we can kiss our asses goodbye. This is exactly why I don't watch &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0411008/"&gt;Lost&lt;/a&gt; season 2. Plus the fact that I really can't stand that Dr. Shepherd character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the times, we'd resort easily to shout "Fuck you, cliffhangers!!" when the end credits to the season finale rolls. This mostly happens when the series has a flair of soap opera in it. &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0410975/"&gt;Desperate Housewives&lt;/a&gt;, anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I never thought that I would feel like how I feel today after watching a series finale. First of all, I didn't know that the episode that I was watching was actually a finale episode. I got curious though, why suddenly the episode's pace was dramatically different (no pun intended), as it was somewhat faster. And somewhat there-is-too-many-things-going-on or as I like to call it, a pre-finale symptoms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since I didn't know that it was a finale, I didn't have any finale feelings or thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until something which I like to refer as "Something's Coming" scene comes. Gosh, that sentence is so cool. As a background, "Something's Coming" is a musical number in "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_Side_Story"&gt;West Side Story&lt;/a&gt;" and it was sung on the moment that the leading male character knows that a much more exciting thing than just his current life is about to happen. He doesn't know when how where what or who, but just around the corner. One thing though, it's something exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Something's Coming" scene in the series was not so straightforward as that. You see, prior to the finale, the series has given us 22 well-produced episodes laden with new ways of seeing things and interpreting stuff and standing on different sides of any stories. Just because of that, the series is so cool on so many levels. It is done with a certain flair that I can't even put into words other than &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0458352/"&gt;"The Devil Wears Prada"&lt;/a&gt; gone &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Python's_Flying_Circus"&gt;"Monty Python"&lt;/a&gt; gone &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0166924/"&gt;"Mulholland Dr."&lt;/a&gt;. From the kitschy main title design downright to the surreal set decoration to the camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this "Something's Coming" scene was the culmination of it all. It's exciting, yeah, but in a different way. It's very engaging. The combination of the editing, orchestrated music, and camera work on this particular scene was perfect. The thrill, anxiety, drama, everything needed was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only shortly after the filled-with-drama-on-fifth-gear scene ends I started to ask questions to myself. "Is this the finale? It mustn't have, must it?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was. And when it ended, I was about to give the series a standing ovation cheering clapping woohooing and all. But I couldn't since I was too busy wiping tears and being emotionally moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now. Crying at the end of a season finale. That's a first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;width: 384px; height: 211px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070820betty.gif" border="0" alt="Ugly Betty main title" /&gt;Oh, by the way, the series whose finale I just watched, titled &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ugly_Betty"&gt;Ugly Betty&lt;/a&gt;. Go watch it, peeps, it is really great beyond words. You will like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could be. Who knows?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4659360688189266510?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4659360688189266510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4659360688189266510&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4659360688189266510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4659360688189266510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/affairs-with-series-finales.html' title='affairs with series finales'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1569710434112306938</id><published>2007-08-17T23:19:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T12:31:43.026+07:00</updated><title type='text'>wikipedia loves them some Indonesia</title><content type='html'>After the &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/guess-who-stared-back-at-me.html"&gt;you-know&lt;/a&gt; incident, and the awesomest Today's featured article &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2006/01/on-birthdays.html"&gt;on my birthday last year&lt;/a&gt;, and random appearances of Indonesia-related news on their front page, guess what Wikipedia has as their Today's (August 17th, 2007) featured article today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indonesia"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 445px; height: 349px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070817indonesia.png" border="0" alt="Snapshot of Today's feature article" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a big surprise though, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyway, in a more or less related note, it's our independence day after all. Oh, yeah. I use the word &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;independence&lt;/span&gt; loosely too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merdeka!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1569710434112306938?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1569710434112306938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1569710434112306938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1569710434112306938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1569710434112306938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/wikipedia-loves-them-some-indonesia.html' title='wikipedia loves them some Indonesia'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4070078490342397068</id><published>2007-08-08T21:17:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T21:20:47.894+07:00</updated><title type='text'>catfight of the year</title><content type='html'>Let's do this together!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roar!! Mroarrr! Mrrrwwwoaaaarrr! Meooongggg! Miauuwwwwrrrr! Mrrrrawwwww!! (*mimickingcatfight*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, what's going on? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2007/08/straight_talk_from_ted_allen.html"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was going on. Don't forget to read &lt;a href="http://nymag.com/news/features/35538/"&gt;the feature&lt;/a&gt; as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rrrrrrrooooawwwwwrrrrr! *scracth*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4070078490342397068?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4070078490342397068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4070078490342397068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4070078490342397068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4070078490342397068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/catfight-of-year.html' title='catfight of the year'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2278396763866269988</id><published>2007-08-07T16:37:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T16:43:06.604+07:00</updated><title type='text'>in less than 24 hours ...</title><content type='html'>.. I have been called &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;cheeky&lt;/span&gt; twice by random people I don't know (yet).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem is, I don't know what cheeky means. And &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=cheeky"&gt;urban dictionary&lt;/a&gt; doesn't really help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, well. I believe there is a compliment in there somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For fellow Jakartans, let's vote!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2278396763866269988?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2278396763866269988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2278396763866269988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2278396763866269988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2278396763866269988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-less-than-24-hours.html' title='in less than 24 hours ...'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-865715834369681550</id><published>2007-08-02T21:49:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T14:30:41.314+07:00</updated><title type='text'>towards Survivor: All-Stars 2 part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.realityblurred.com/realitytv/archives/survivor_16/2007_Jun_20_all_star_rumors"&gt;Rumor has it&lt;/a&gt; that the 16th installment of the series I love to watch as a capsulized learning experience on social human behaviour a.k.a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor_%28TV_series%29"&gt;Survivor&lt;/a&gt; will be another all-star. This time, the returnee are supposedly players from seasons 9 to 15. Make sense. Since &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor:_All-Stars"&gt;the last all-star was the 8th one&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an avid Survivor fan, I can only wonder which players from all those seasons can make the All-Stars. I don't have any jotted down criteria for the induction, but let's start with the winners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor9"&gt;Survivor: Vanuatu&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Winner:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chris_Daugherty"&gt;Chris Daugherty&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not the bald and allegedly a copycat of Ed Kowalzcyk Chris Daughtry. This Chris was almost voted off in the first episode, when he was solely blamed for the loss at the first immunity challenge. He weaseled his way out, only to find himself in a post-merge tribe laden with female alliance pagonging the guys one by one. Chris was last man standing opposing the female alliance, only to succeed being the last contestant standing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His strategy deals with sucking up and saying the right words, but his strategic move (especially in making sure that Eliza voted with him and his alliance in final 7) can not be overlooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;All star worthy?&lt;/span&gt; Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor10"&gt;Survivor: Palau&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Winner:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Westman"&gt;Tom Westman&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom was lucky. He was handed the final immunity idol by his strongest contender, and a clear winner had he didn't give it to Tom. He had the easiest final two contestant to beat: his coat-rider called Katie. He survived to the end because of streaks of winning immunity challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the end, he kinda bullied his way to the finals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;All star worthy?&lt;/span&gt; Please, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor11/"&gt;Survivor: Guatemala&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Winner:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danni_Boatwright"&gt;Danni Boatwright&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay! Danni! Danni reminds me of Jenna Morasca (&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor6/"&gt;Survivor: Amazon&lt;/a&gt;) sans the spoiled image. She was pagonged last from her alliance because of being thought the least physical threat. She then won immunity challenges at the right time. She locked her win when Rafe, strongest candidate to win, cut her loose from her promise to take him to final two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danni brought her easiest competitor to final two, and she wins hands down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;All star worthy?&lt;/span&gt; Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor12/"&gt;Survivor: Panama&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Winner:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aras_Baskauskas"&gt;Aras Baskauskas&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aras was a bit overshadowed by two of his fellow tribe mates: his ally Cirie, and his biggest enemy Terry. These two are two of the most memorable characters of all Survivors. Cirie especially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aras's win was somehow cleverly orchestrated by Cirie who took care of him (and their alliance members) by playing an almost perfect mental game. His full trust to Cirie (and I think a bit hatred to Terry) and a deal with Danielle in the end gave him the title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;All star worthy?&lt;/span&gt; No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor13/"&gt;Survivor: Cook Islands&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Winner:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yul_Kwon_%28Survivor%29"&gt;Yul Kwon&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yul was in a very dramatic and outstanding season of Survivor. At the beginning, the contestants were divided two four tribes based on race. In two merges and one twist later Yul finds himself in one of the tightest alliance ever on Survivor. I honestly believe that each and every member of that alliance cares for the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yul found the hidden immunity idol, and succeeded to use it in the right time. His clever strategizing also paid him back by giving him the win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;All star worthy?&lt;/span&gt; Oh, yes, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor14/"&gt;Survivor: Fiji&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Winner:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earl_Cole"&gt;Earl Cole&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How Earl wins Survivor: Fiji still puzzles me. Well, OK. It's a perfect combination between good alliance, sheer luck because the deserving winner voted off before him, and a not-so-deserving final three, made the jury have the easiest job of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earl wins unanimously a never-happened-before Survivor result. This was possible since he was up against a complete and total liar whom the jury hated because of backing out on his own words and a passive competitor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;All star worthy?&lt;/span&gt; No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, only Chris, Yul and Danni? Hmm, I think so. But looking back in the previous All-Stars when they had four winners competing again, I think it would be OK if Tom competes it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survivor: China, the 15th installment has not been aired yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up, memorable contestants per season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continued to: &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/10/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-2.html"&gt;part 2&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-865715834369681550?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/865715834369681550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=865715834369681550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/865715834369681550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/865715834369681550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/08/towards-survivor-all-stars-2-part-1.html' title='towards Survivor: All-Stars 2 part 1'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2071460099754438329</id><published>2007-07-23T22:39:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T22:50:34.684+07:00</updated><title type='text'>guess who stared back at me ...</title><content type='html'>... on wikipedia front page today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070723wikipedia.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Will you sleep well tonight after this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear:both;"&gt;Yeah. Me neither.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2071460099754438329?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2071460099754438329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2071460099754438329&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2071460099754438329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2071460099754438329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/guess-who-stared-back-at-me.html' title='guess who stared back at me ...'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1125137145118165755</id><published>2007-07-22T22:14:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T22:58:20.688+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter and His Last Book</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bad news:&lt;/span&gt; The first part is considerably boring, the second part is slightly boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mediocre news:&lt;/span&gt; JK Rowling just created the phrase of the year: &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: #000000;" &gt;Undesirable Number One&lt;/span&gt;. I already have my You-Know-Who, now I need to find me my UNO. Ooops, I think I already have one (and he better take it as a compliment, backhanded one whatsoever).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Good news:&lt;/span&gt; Lily Potter née Evans is aquarean!! Adding up to fabulous aquareans out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1125137145118165755?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1125137145118165755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1125137145118165755&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1125137145118165755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1125137145118165755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/harry-potter-and-his-last-book.html' title='Harry Potter and His Last Book'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4462638897060392900</id><published>2007-07-20T21:57:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T15:45:01.863+07:00</updated><title type='text'>bet your bottom dollars that</title><content type='html'>Dear friends (and stalkers, perhaps?),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if I were &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annie"&gt;Annie&lt;/a&gt;, this minute I would have sung "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you! Tomorrow! You're only a day awaaaay...!" for the 4,285th time this day only. Tomorrow is a big day. Big. As Carrie Bradshaw's Mr. Big. Well, not that sharp, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will be the only day so far that I would try my best to stick to a schedule, made by and for me only. Tomorrow has been the day that I've been waiting for, for about 9 years to be exact. How does it feel to wake up in a day you've been waiting for nine years? Well, try asking a bride. Or me, tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, I won't bother to answer your call, read your e-mail, read your text message, socialize, and perhaps shower. I mean, I kinda explained it all &lt;a href="http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/scandaluscious.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; anyway, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you need urgently to catch me wherever, you have to see me in person in order to reach me, here's my (hopefully not so) tentative schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Friday, July 20, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22:30 go to bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Saturday, July 21, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05:00 wake up&lt;br /&gt;05:30 go to Plaza Indonesia&lt;br /&gt;06:00 (hopefully) in a queue line at Periplus&lt;br /&gt;06:01 queue line starts&lt;br /&gt;06:15 (hopefully) having dates (two of them!) in hand&lt;br /&gt;07:00 start reading&lt;br /&gt;11:00 (hopefully not) my best friend's sister's wedding&lt;br /&gt;13:00 continue reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sunday, July 22, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09:00 Yoga class 1 (optional)&lt;br /&gt;10:10 continue reading&lt;br /&gt;11:20 Body Combat class (optional)&lt;br /&gt;13:20 Yoga class 2&lt;br /&gt;14:40 continue reading (optional)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early Sunday evening is the time that you can expect me to socialize again. Can't give that guarantee though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;PS:&lt;/span&gt; On the record, I think one of two who die is Ginny Weasley. Problem is, every time I predicted something on the record, I turned out wrong. When it was off the record, it was right. Ah, well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4462638897060392900?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4462638897060392900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4462638897060392900&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4462638897060392900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4462638897060392900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/bet-your-bottom-dollars-that.html' title='bet your bottom dollars that'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1244168838631158886</id><published>2007-07-20T08:07:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T08:25:22.270+07:00</updated><title type='text'>bizzare love triangle</title><content type='html'>Yesterday and the day before it I had to face one of the most difficult decision to make whole my life. I had to choose between two things that I love dearly. It was so difficult, just like naming your favorite own children. Crazy, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to choose between continuing watching &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor:_Cook_Islands"&gt;Survivor: Cook Islands&lt;/a&gt; till the end (and then &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor:_Fiji"&gt;Survivor: Fiji&lt;/a&gt; on the next day; I was on the last episode on both days) and bustling myself to my Yoga class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that time I sat on my chair, seemed like there was a glue layered between my ass and the plasticy surface of the chair. But I know I should get up, otherwise I would miss the Yoga class, but as always, curiosity held me down tight. On both occasions, I chose to get up and going Yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that both &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor_%28TV_series%29"&gt;Survivors&lt;/a&gt; would give me a hard time when I got back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, I'd pay them back later on these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1244168838631158886?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1244168838631158886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1244168838631158886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1244168838631158886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1244168838631158886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/bizzare-love-triangle.html' title='bizzare love triangle'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2975468748720327627</id><published>2007-07-14T12:24:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T07:38:36.264+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hairy Potter</title><content type='html'>The fifth installment of one of those bajillion Harry Potter franchise, this time in &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0373889/"&gt;the form of movies&lt;/a&gt;, opens with a bang. BANG! No, seriously. I was punching my straw to my hard-to-open plastic cup cover containing some hundreds milliliters of iced lemon tea. BANG! Since it wasn't opened for the second time I tried it, there's another bang. BANG! That was the third and probably last bang that the movie offers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070714harry2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Why's that? Because Potter, whose hair as described by the first book "simply grew that way -- all over the place", seemed to have decided to use a hefty amount of his &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Money_in_Harry_Potter"&gt;Galleons&lt;/a&gt; locked safe in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gringotts#Gringotts_Wizarding_Bank"&gt;Gringotts&lt;/a&gt; to visit &lt;a href="http://www.tresemme.com/stylists-corner/bio-nathaniel-hawkins.aspx"&gt;Nathaniel Hawkins&lt;/a&gt; and turned that all-over-the-place hair with a cut enough to make &lt;a href="http://www.kevynaucoin.com/"&gt;Kevyn Aucoin&lt;/a&gt; (may he rest in peace) jealous thinking why he's not the one who'd done him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In four words, "OFF WITH THE BANGS!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070714harry1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;With a haircut like that, it is no surprise then if Harry Potter, a student in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hogwarts_School_of_Witchcraft_and_Wizardry"&gt;Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry&lt;/a&gt;, moonlights as a leather-bound rough-looking model. He may have contacted &lt;a href="www.lorealparisusa.com/myloreal/collier.htm"&gt;Collier Strong&lt;/a&gt; to apply concealer on top of his oh-so-famous scar on his forehead for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070714harry3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;With a ready-to-brag hair and a modeling-summer-job in hands, it is only fair if Potter then rethinks his wardrobe. During one of those summer holidays (which was so dreadful because he had to meet two &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dementor"&gt;Dementors&lt;/a&gt; on this day), he wears a nicely-fit-and-I-suspect-specially-tailored T-shirt, worthy enough for a spread in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GQ"&gt;GQ&lt;/a&gt;. The T-Shirt was perfection, with sleeves which end precisely in the middle of his biceps, the colour which makes him subtly blend to his environment, and still enables him to run very quick away from the Dementors. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edna_Mode"&gt;Edna Mode&lt;/a&gt; might have designed this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070714harry6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="clear: both;"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070714harry4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;In one of those other days (on which he has a chance to play &lt;a href="http://www.supersentai.com/database/1982_goggle_five/index.html"&gt;Goggle V&lt;/a&gt; for a day by being able to use a public phone booth to get to a "secret place") he has to look formal. Hence, a nicely tailored jacket. Gosh, the jacket is so nice that I bet if GQ ever wrote a feature titled "Hot Summer Jackets for Y'all Under-18s" this may be one of the top ten, if not the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then come the school days where there are no hairdressers in sight, uniforms are mandatory, and temperature drops allowing students to wear layers. Attention to fashion is then spared because it is inapplicable in the tropics anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't fret. The jacket we drooled together makes another appearance near the end. Worn with a &lt;del&gt;(retro? vintage? I need a second screening)&lt;/del&gt; (&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;update:&lt;/span&gt; it turns out that it was the torso-hugging worn on the Dudley Demented day) T-Shirt, it is an unbelievable sight that I almost torn my hair apart just because I couldn't find any picture of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? Oh, the movie is great. Visually pleasing. I mean come on, a movie whose hero is a model with customly tailored fashion pieces and a haircut to die for is never bad to look at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070714harry5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Besides, he has two classmates, one who is a girl and clearly does a good job growing up but unfortunately doesn't have fashion sense as sharp as &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leslie_Burke"&gt;that chick who invented Terabithia&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;(Careful!! Link contains spoilers!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other classmate, hmm, I feel pity for him. He is clearly the beefier one but told not to sculpt that beef into muscles. And in order to justify his beefiness, he was shown as the one who keeps munching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah. Almost forgot. Plus, there are some magic in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BANG!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2975468748720327627?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2975468748720327627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2975468748720327627&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2975468748720327627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2975468748720327627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/hairy-potter.html' title='Hairy Potter'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-4983612701651308784</id><published>2007-07-12T21:05:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T11:11:22.892+07:00</updated><title type='text'>for Sascha Pries' eyes only</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7007401470326568440&amp;isPopup=true"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt;. Is. So. Scary. Pleasantly surreal also, but very scary. OK. Maybe not scary. Intimidating. It's like &lt;a href="http://www.penguin.co.uk/nickhornby"&gt;Nick Hornby&lt;/a&gt; calls me saying, "Would you like to preview my latest unpublished manuscript?". Which will never happen. It's like &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/360blog"&gt;Anderson Cooper's team&lt;/a&gt; sends me an e-mail asking, "Would you like to be Mr. Cooper's liaison when he's there?". Which will never happen. It's like ... ah, well, I think you got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am of course about to reply to the comment. But since I'm me, the reply got somewhat lengthy, and I decided to write a post as a reply to the comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(So for all of you non-Sascha-Pries out there, I apologetically understand if you opt to skip this post. He didn't leave an e-mail address for crying out loud. How the hell am I supposed to response other than write this on my blog and randomly hoping that he would be back one day? Hehehe..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, Pries sounds German. That's why I thought you were a he, because I've met one or two Saschas during my stay in Germany. And you stated in the feature that you are German. So I did think you're a he. However, some Saschas are she's. Even one of the results of searching its meaning came up with &lt;a href="http://www.zelo.com/firstnames/findresults.asp?name=SASCHA"&gt;a page that says it is a female name&lt;/a&gt;. So I played it safe to not to be called sexist. :) Glad you come to the rescue and save the confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to post the whole feature, though. But I don't know whether it would have been a violation to copyright or something. I'm not so equipped (information wise) on that subject. Hence the snapshot and the link. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find some problems every time I browse through &lt;a href="http://thejakartapost.com/"&gt;the Jakarta Post&lt;/a&gt;'s website. What troubles me the most is the archiving algorithm that they use, which is very foreign for a visitor. I had my worries that the link to the "melting pot" article would be changed in the next few days after I posted the snapshot, but at that time, that was the link to the full article.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thanks for the heads-up reminding me that the link has been changed. However, "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/He-man"&gt;By the power of Grayskull!&lt;/a&gt; I have &lt;a href="http://www.thejakartapost.com/yesterdaydetail.asp?fileid=20070701.@02"&gt;the power!!"&lt;/a&gt;. With that power, let's keep this article alive. :) I kinda creatively used &lt;a href="http://google.com/"&gt;Google&lt;/a&gt; as my &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castle_Grayskull"&gt;Castle Grayskull&lt;/a&gt;, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you need a reason why I think the article you wrote made me think that you are now one of my heroes, we need to set up a more private environment, because I don't really like to talk about some of the things that I need to reveal in order to get the message across. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can easily be contacted through az.habibie[this is where you type that swirly thing when on a German keyboard it would be Alt Gr + Q]gmail[this is where you have a chance to utilize your pointillism talent]com. Or anytime you just need another head to talk about Indonesian nitty-gritty over a cup of coffee. Just a friendly reminder, I don't drink at Starbucks, though. Starbucks and a swear word rhymes with Starbuck often comes in the same sentence, when it comes to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Und nat&amp;uuml;rlich vielen vielen Dank auch f&amp;uuml;r aufstehen und den Kommentar. Das war sehr angenehm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-4983612701651308784?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/4983612701651308784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=4983612701651308784&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4983612701651308784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/4983612701651308784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/for-sascha-pries-eyes-only.html' title='for Sascha Pries&apos; eyes only'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-3945475275190544075</id><published>2007-07-08T06:57:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T16:47:37.875+07:00</updated><title type='text'>scandaluscious!</title><content type='html'>In about two weeks, the preparation for locking myself up in my bedroom will have its fruit. I will be locked with an enough-for-48-hours supplies. Water. Food. Fruits. Yoga mat. Lights. Candles. Lots of them. Essential oils and aromatherapy utensils might work as well. And also emotions. Not the Bee Gees or Mariah Carey one, but things you have in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will plug off my telephone, pull off internet connection, still thinking about plugging in my laptop which I can't live without. I won't answer my mobile. Text or voice wise. I will ignore any calls from my family. Friends may have to wait for another two days and two nights to know my whatabouts and whereabouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will spend the next 48 hours or so with one to gaze at and direct all my concentration to. Cuddle with. Sleeping with. Laugh to or with. Cry with (if necessary). Sleep on. Hug. Touch. Caress. Should I fall asleep, I may drool on too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things like, "I knew it!", "Give me smore!", "Noooooo!", "Whyyyyyyyy?", "Yeah!!!", "Give me more!!", "Yes. Yes. Yes." or the ever universal "Oh. My. God." may be heard. Loudly or faintly. I don't think moaning and orgasmic screaming or laugh would be necessary, though. Regardless, after the 48-hour period is over, I'll become a new man. A sufficed satisfied new man that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing more. I'm seeing the face of my affair for the first time today. Face and butt. It's only fair that you know the face (and butt) of your future affair whom you're about to encounter a grueling 48-hour with. Now, I bet you two would also like to meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet my date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 450px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070708herpot7face.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Butt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 450px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070708herpot7butt.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Oh. And apparently, ever since I asked myself, "What the fuck does 'hallows' mean?", looks like &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deathly_hallows#Choice_of_title"&gt;I've got me some company&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks to go, baby! (&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monica_Geller"&gt;Monica&lt;/a&gt;-like) TWO WEEKS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the rest of the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-3945475275190544075?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/3945475275190544075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=3945475275190544075&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3945475275190544075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/3945475275190544075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/scandaluscious.html' title='scandaluscious!'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6683708524972011566</id><published>2007-07-07T08:23:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T08:25:52.633+07:00</updated><title type='text'>best word verification ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 320px; height: 163px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070707wohrz.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Just when, exactly, did &lt;a href="http://blogger.com/"&gt;Blogger&lt;/a&gt; decide to go urban?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6683708524972011566?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6683708524972011566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6683708524972011566&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6683708524972011566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6683708524972011566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/best-word-verification-ever.html' title='best word verification ever'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-1425796079486985673</id><published>2007-07-07T08:11:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T08:22:56.483+07:00</updated><title type='text'>weekend on steroids</title><content type='html'>You know what, I really hate myself for hating random people I don't know. Sometimes passionately. Like a British lad I know who hates Keira Knightley &lt;i&gt;with a passion&lt;/i&gt; just because and I quote, "I can't stand her mouth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wimbledon.org/en_GB/news/articles/2007-07-06/200707061183752217734.html"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;width: 412px; height: 282px" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070707aroloses.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But I can't escape the fact that I am once again ridiculously very happy for &lt;a href="http://www.wimbledon.org/en_GB/news/articles/2007-07-06/200707061183752217734.html"&gt;this news&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great weekend, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-1425796079486985673?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/1425796079486985673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=1425796079486985673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1425796079486985673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/1425796079486985673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/weekend-on-steroids.html' title='weekend on steroids'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6523597696728653722</id><published>2007-07-03T00:30:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T08:08:25.154+07:00</updated><title type='text'>FAQ</title><content type='html'>What will happen if you join a Dance Addict class to the music of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beautiful_Liar"&gt;Beautiful Liar&lt;/a&gt;, instructed by an almost-but-not-too-much hyperactive, addicted to hip thrusts and groin actions, always-looking-at-you-(or your way)-when-he-asked-questions ("Ready, guys?" Ne-fucking-ver!), Beyonce-wannabe, encouraging-to-mop-the-floor-with-your-shirt-and-pants choreographer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possible answers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. An accidentally kicked dancing partner. Accidentally accidental. Not accidentally in a Sir Norman Fry kinda way. Sorry, mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b. Accidentally kicked dancing classmates. Sorry, mate and mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c. A sore butt for being accidentally kicked. Twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;d. A pair of hip joints needing recovery (but used for Power Yoga the next day anyway).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e. A gassy stomach. So bad so that you can't lift your left hip up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;f. An urge to go to the toilet to exhaust any gas, but only started when you were on a public bus that drove slowly but surely like that turtle in the race with the hare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;g. Trots that lasted less than five seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;h. A great time you know you would have had if only that friend of yours who is a huge Shakira fan (and tirelessly pushing the agenda of anti public display of self hip thrusting) had joined you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i. An intro of a song you can't get out of your head even after 48 hours and you think that it should be your next ringing tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j. all of the above.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6523597696728653722?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6523597696728653722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6523597696728653722&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6523597696728653722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6523597696728653722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/faq.html' title='FAQ'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7007401470326568440</id><published>2007-07-02T07:29:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T21:12:58.143+07:00</updated><title type='text'>the real Sascha Pries, please stand up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.thejakartapost.com/yesterdaydetail.asp?fileid=20070701.@02"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070702sascha.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, who the fuck is this Sascha Pries? Well, one thing for sure, &lt;a href="http://www.thejakartapost.com/yesterdaydetail.asp?fileid=20070701.@02"&gt;this column published yesterday (snapped on the right)&lt;/a&gt; just made him (or her for that matter) &lt;del&gt;my hero&lt;/del&gt; one of my heroes (or heroines for that matter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have &lt;a href="http://cnn.com/heroes"&gt;some kind of heroes weekly&lt;/a&gt; I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kick some Monday's ass, guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Update:&lt;/span&gt; Link to the article. Hopefully it's permanent now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7007401470326568440?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7007401470326568440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7007401470326568440&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7007401470326568440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7007401470326568440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/real-sascha-pries-please-stand-up.html' title='the real Sascha Pries, please stand up'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-2111275256748677069</id><published>2007-07-01T07:35:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T07:47:10.216+07:00</updated><title type='text'>bookity book</title><content type='html'>The great &lt;a href="http://kottke.org"&gt;Jason Kottke&lt;/a&gt; once posted a link to a &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/"&gt;flickr&lt;/a&gt; group about a picture of stacked books. The photographer of these pictures then wrote a few lines telling that the books pictured are the ones that they  are currently reading or intend to read or are proud of having standing on the bookshelf collecting dust, waiting someone to comment, "Nice rack." to the owner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last thing is just me, and it would never happen as I am pretty &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=rack"&gt;rackless&lt;/a&gt; anyway. Aren't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These pictures also work as a reminder of how far from the intention of reading those, the books are finally actually read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't one of who posted any pictures, I have lost the link, but I am posting my stack now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 400px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070701books.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Explanation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fever Pitch&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;b&gt;Nick Hornby&lt;/b&gt;. The first non-fiction Nick Hornby that I buy and want to read. Unlike other books where he casually talks about music (and I know nothing about music), Hornby talks about football in this book. Well, look at that, something that I know nothing about as well. At least, &lt;em&gt;everybody&lt;/em&gt; says that it's not only about football. It's also semi-autobiographical. Anyway, there is one non-fiction Hornby that I'd reeeaaally like to read, in which he talks about books. It just costs too damn much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stardust&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;b&gt;Neil Gaiman&lt;/b&gt;. The non-illustrated one. I've read it. Sometime in late 90s or early 2000s. The graphic novel one. The BEAUTIFUL graphic novel one. Know the story. Forget some parts. A warm up before seeing the movie. By the way, Yvaine is the hottest how-one-can-pronounce-it name for a star ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wicked&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;b&gt;Gregory Maguire&lt;/b&gt;. Wait. It is supposed to be &lt;b&gt;Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West&lt;/b&gt;. I've heard the musical like hundreds of times so I'm familiar with the story. But it is said that the book is more steamy, political, and graphic than the musical. In one word: yum. In five words: &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_One_Mourns_the_Wicked"&gt;No One Mourns the Wicked!!!&lt;/a&gt; on top of my lung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;b&gt;David Sedaris&lt;/b&gt;. I don't know anything about the author. I don't know anything about the book. My best friend told me that he wants to read it. And I am affectedtious. You know what I mean. If you notice, it isn't even out the plastic wrap yet. Hopefully a worthy buy. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Crime and Punishment&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;b&gt;Fyodor Dostoyevsky&lt;/b&gt;. DON'T MOCK!! Once in a while, a man deserves to read a heavy book, right? Maybe I will only survive after reading the first page. But at least someday I can say something about Dostoyevsky. At least I'm not reading Emma. Wait. I've read it. Hehehee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fairy Tales&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;b&gt;Hans Christian Andersen&lt;/b&gt;. Well. I read this on and off every time I need to escape from other books. They are just so beautiful. They meaning the fairy tales. Well, the books too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Indonesian? Well, I declared loudly, by loudly I mean on a dinner table in a restaurant with some friends, that the first Indonesian book that I would buy after a while would have been IPDN Undercover by Inu Kencana. Just because I love gossip. Let me elaborate. I love gossip about strangers that I don't know. Not your next door cute little adolescent. But after seeing the price, I declared on the next occasion that it had to wait until I know the two who die in the Deathly Hallows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Latest one off of the stack? &lt;b&gt;A Long Way Down&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;b&gt;Nick Hornby&lt;/b&gt;. Yeah, for the eighty-third time. Hehehe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice weekend and reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-2111275256748677069?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/2111275256748677069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=2111275256748677069&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2111275256748677069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/2111275256748677069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/07/bookity-book.html' title='bookity book'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-5685782969195543021</id><published>2007-06-22T16:39:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T16:43:09.732+07:00</updated><title type='text'>if only ...</title><content type='html'>... my Speedy usage hadn't gone off through the roof, I would have ransacked &lt;a href="http://allthingsanderson.blogspot.com/"&gt;this blog&lt;/a&gt;, enjoyed all the clips in it and had the MFEFWE (most freaking effing fun weekend ever)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did I just know, I would never know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-5685782969195543021?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/5685782969195543021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=5685782969195543021&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5685782969195543021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5685782969195543021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/06/if-only.html' title='if only ...'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-5573147254459764683</id><published>2007-06-22T10:16:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T11:05:12.323+07:00</updated><title type='text'>kenapa oh kenapa</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;First kenapa: Kenapa &lt;a href="http://blogger.com/"&gt;Blogger&lt;/a&gt; tiba-tiba ngejadiin semua kata-kata di blog gue (well, interface dari Bloggernya siy) jadi &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bahasa_Indonesia"&gt;bahasa Indonesia&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 460px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070622bloggerindo1.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Seriously, bukannya gue gak cinta bahasa sendiri, tapi ada hal-hal yang menurut gue, gue akan lebih bisa mengerti dan dimengerti kalo gue ngomong pake bahasa Inggris (baca lagi kata pertama di kalimat ini). Maklum, kebanyakan nonton &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_Runway"&gt;Project Runway&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivor_%28TV_series%29"&gt;Survivor&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heroes_%28TV_series%29"&gt;Heroes&lt;/a&gt;, dan sebangsanya, dan gak pernah nonton Intan, Tersanjung 17-setengah, Cinta kan Membawamu Kembali di Sini (ada gak sih sinetron berjudul ini?) dan sebangsanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi gara-gara pengindonesiaan Blogger ini, gue jadi mikir. Ternyata preview ada bahasa Indonesianya toh. Dan bukan "prifiu" ala Malaysian. Membuat gue bingung dan mikir-mikir kayaknya gue musti les bahasa Indonesia karena ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bahasa Indonesianya Anonymous bukannya ada?? Anonim kan? Gimana sih ini? Kalo prifiu = pratinjau, kenapa Anonymous = Anonymous? Au' agh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070622bloggerindo2.png" border="0" alt="Prifiu" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Second kenapa: Back to English. Why the silence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been cockblogged by someone! (Well, in order to make it a pun from &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=cockblock"&gt;this word&lt;/a&gt;, I actually should have used blogblocked, rather than cockblogged. But the latter sounds much much better and much much much pun-ish.) Anyway, yeah. Someone has cockblogged me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To that someone, please stand up, please stand up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is there are a lot of blogable stuff going on in the past seven days. And I've blogged none of them. Again the problem is not that I don't have the time. But every time I said to myself, "I should blog this." words didn't parade in my brains unlike the many times that I thought, "I should have bought a voice recorder!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is, "I need inspiration.. Not just another negotiation .. All I wanna do is find a way back into lurve." Oh, wait. Sing too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Third kenapa: Why does one.. nah, I can't "mempublikasikan" this thing here.&lt;/span&gt; (I'm so gonna get killed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. One more thing to do. Click that "Mempublikasikan Kiriman" button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;width: 400px;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070622bloggerindo3.png" border="0" alt="Mempublikasikan Kiriman" /&gt;Madre. De. Dio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-5573147254459764683?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/5573147254459764683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=5573147254459764683&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5573147254459764683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/5573147254459764683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/06/kenapa-oh-kenapa.html' title='kenapa oh kenapa'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-6915634139893403438</id><published>2007-06-15T19:29:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T19:49:08.208+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rufus Wainwright, say what??!!</title><content type='html'>No wonder, Rufus. A friend of mine loves you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And he's a bit meanly gossipy too. *giggle*. To my friend whose name I won't name, not to Rufus.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"I go to the same gym as Anderson Cooper. When I look at him lifting those 5-pound weights, it makes me think, 'He's just trying to live his life and be all that he can be.' But he still goes to the gayest gym in New York."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way. Almost forgot. The &lt;a href="http://www.nypost.com/seven/06142007/gossip/pagesix/not_gym_dandy_pagesix_.htm"&gt;link to the news that I was talking about&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-6915634139893403438?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/6915634139893403438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=6915634139893403438&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6915634139893403438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/6915634139893403438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/06/rufus-wainwright-say-what.html' title='Rufus Wainwright, say what??!!'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-9152758537764085723</id><published>2007-06-09T09:31:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T09:39:18.856+07:00</updated><title type='text'>picture of the year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.canada.com/ottawacitizen/news/arts/story.html?id=91c3add8-2488-401f-bc85-29f1b523d9f0&amp;k=78926"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/070609paris.jpg" border="0" alt="Paris cries" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cheers, mate. Have a nice weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-9152758537764085723?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/9152758537764085723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=9152758537764085723&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/9152758537764085723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/9152758537764085723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/06/picture-of-year.html' title='picture of the year'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7926874.post-7590894912149407558</id><published>2007-06-04T11:40:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T11:51:31.264+07:00</updated><title type='text'>on schminsecurity</title><content type='html'>This may come as a surprise for you lot. Yeah, what I'm about to write may surprise you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;strong&gt;I am &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emotional_insecurity"&gt;insecure&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I don't really think I have a problem with my insecurity up to the point that I'm downright inconfident (that's like the motto of Insecure Anonymous, by the way), but sometimes I just prefer not meeting people I know who's gonna ask me a lot of questions about myself or prefer just being a tightly closed book or being away from people that are more this and that than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I was sweating balls when last weekend I have to attend my college reunion. Because I know that at least one of them will still have a head full of hair, at least one of them will come and introduce someone as their wife, or first daughter, or date, or whatever. At least one of them will ask what do I do, where do I work, and stuff like that. At least one of them will comment on my body-weight or lack of it. At least one of them will ask me why did I choose to go back and forth and not spending the night in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this last question, I, with all my incapability of lying will say, "Err, because, I have this awkward situation with someone whom I'd be delighted if we don't see each other until the situation is settled." And then the asker (?) will look at me strangely and say, "OK, weirdo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost cancelled my departure to the reunion, but I managed to pull every bit of the fact that I do miss my best friends so much, and they knew that I was coming, and how bummed would they have been, had I not come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went there. And because this is a totally different group than the people that I usually &lt;a href="http://rammm.blogspot.com/"&gt;hung&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://gethrougher.blogspot.com/"&gt;out&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://walkofcredo.blogspot.com/"&gt;with&lt;/a&gt; (or &lt;a href="http://mslbm.blogspot.com/"&gt;was tricked into hanging out with&lt;/a&gt;) when I was in college, I didn't plan any grand entrance. I didn't wear clothes that I usually wear (meaning I chose something a bit more conservative), and I behaved. When the elevator doors to the third floor were opened, I saw only some familiar faces. But they were not from my class. Which made things more awkward and insecuring for I didn't (and still don't) know them that well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I finally met my friends, everything was like, what should I be insecure about? I mean they were the same old friends of mine. We teased each other a lot. And if someone tease me about things that I'm insecure about, I can easily tease them back about something, right? Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly, there were no tease flying around when I made my non-grand entrance. Everyone said that they missed me and virtually each and every one of them asked about my whereabouts for the past four years. Of course some commented on my better posture, my darker complexion, my metabolism. Well, not my metabolism per se, but they asked, "How could you keep those weights off of you?" To which I answered, "Honestly, I have a problem to keep them on actually. That's what kind of metabolism I have." To which people rolled their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What demolished my insecurities, just like how Peter Petrelli was supposed to destroy New York, was actually when one of my friends (who is very observant, true to his words - no lip service ever -, &amp;uuml;ber-blunt borderline offensive, and very smart) said, "Gosh. You look great! You look like that &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maroon_5"&gt;Maroon 5&lt;/a&gt;'s lead singer!" He said it like twice to which I limitedly replied, "Thanks!" And since I am crappy with current music, I couldn't figure out at first who the fuck was the lead singer of Maroon 5. But I know that's a compliment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until five hours later when the reunion was over and I was busy having conversation with myself trying to make a peace for having made the right decision by coming, I successfully remembered who the lead singer of Maroon 5 is. I sat up straight and wondered, "Didn't we &lt;a href="http://miund.wordpress.com/2007/05/23/197/#comments"&gt;gossiped about this guy already&lt;/a&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's the moral of the story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think the next time I have the chance, I will say to the group that I'm gradually leaving Insecure Anonymous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, again, have underestimated my friends and their take on friendship. This is a really bad habit and I really really need to quit having it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly, "QUALITY" is a big word. And I think I have it written across my forehead. Bold, uppercase, huge font-size and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; I know someone out there is laughing so hard reading the last paragraph.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7926874-7590894912149407558?l=bieourself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/feeds/7590894912149407558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7926874&amp;postID=7590894912149407558&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7590894912149407558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7926874/posts/default/7590894912149407558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bieourself.blogspot.com/2007/06/on-schminsecurity.html' title='on schminsecurity'/><author><name>Bie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18414322906962468442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://az.habibie.googlepages.com/profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
