A couple of weeks before end year, this girl told us that she’d have a new date: a guy who’s a friend of her friend, British, 37, banker, and lives in Singapore. The friend showed him her picture and he’s interested, asked to meet for a (blind) date in Jakarta in the following week. She said yes.

As usual, I got an updates from her the very next day, when I was still lying on my bed, half awake, listening to her story about the night before. It sounded like a successful date. Especially because he’s cute and so into her.

So when she told us happily that he’s coming over for the year end party in Jakarta, we thought because he really likes her and would like to spend the night with her. I’m not really surprised, especially because this is the second time she does this. Last year she went to our BBQ and went disappear after 8PM, spending the clock-ticking moment with another guy. Not that I really care, but back then it felt there’s a bitter pill on the edge of my tongue, I didn’t know why, but it’s there.

After she broke the news that the guy is coming, we KNOW that she’s not gonna be with us. Which is fine. So we’ve been busy trying to figure out where to go, although Stuart keeps suggesting to go to EP (nice try, hun!), and this time we have Tammy, Greg, and Adam too. The more, the merrier.

Last Thursday she called after I went back from gym, and asked where we’re going on Friday night. I was a bit surprised, because the guy’s coming and I assumed she’d be gone and ignoring us for the entire weekend to be with him. Then I was more surprised when she said the guy hasn’t made any appointment with her, and he’s coming with some friends to spend the new year’’s eve. I told her that most places shall be booked ahead, and I believe he should’ve done it, otherwise he’d spend end year at Dragonfly queue. That moment I could sense her disappointment and anxiety, that she thought the guy would be with her, but most likely he’s had plans already, and she’s not included, because he hadn’t told her where he’d be from Friday on. That she’d spend Friday night AND new year’s eve alone because she didn’t make plans at all.

Then she said that she’ll see what her mood would be on Friday, she didn’t have to necessarily meet him on Friday night, and she’d rather to go with us. Us means Ecky, Tammy, Adam, Dinar, and myself, with a mission to conquer 3 places: Red Square (I know, I know, I don’t like the place but I’m doing a good deed here, to show the place to Adam!), Blowfish, and Cloud9. I told her that she’s more than welcome to join us the next day.

Friday (yesterday) was our last day at work, but unlike everybody else who had nothing to do at office (except Dinar, who’s crazy enough to work until midnite, d’oh!), I scheduled 2 meetings and must submit a tender result to our consultant. So when she called to confirm about Friday night’s activity, I told her briefly about our previous plan, and that instead of going home first and jeopardize the last Friday in 2006 moment (temptation of spending a quiet night at home!), Ecky and I would have dinner at PS then go to Red Sq afterwards. She said she’d meet us there, which lead to my assumption that it was confirmed she’d hang out with us instead of that guy.

Not surprised she still felt it’s necessary to call me 3 times when I was driving to PS (without picking it up, I know she just wanted to confirm and reconfirm and re-reconfirm that we actually were going to PS and not to planet Mars). Prila sent me text as well, asking about the plan because this girl, unsuccessfully tried to reach me, tried to re-re-reconfirm with her (who’s actually not going because she must attend a wedding). And she also called Ecky too, to - again - re-re-re-reconfirm that we’re going to PS. Why the fuss, I never get it.

I only texted her 9.30 to let her know that we’d be at Red Sq soon. She’d come in 1 hour, she said. Tammy & Adam were there when Ecky and I arrived. All of us saw her when she entered Red Sq, only to the tip of the door, went back outside, and called me (oh, my). “Are you there? I don’t see you.” I mean, Red Sq at 10PM is never busy, only like 20 people, and with the size of the space like that, she could easily roam the place in 1 minute to see us NOT hiding at the edge of the table. She didn’t have to call me, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough walking in without knowing there’s somebody she knows (and we’re talking about bar/club/men expert here!).

Only 15 minutes, suddenly she said that she asked the guy and his friend to come to Red Sq. I couldn’t believe my ears. She did it, again. I already told the girls that I had the feeling that we are her backup plan, if it goes well, she’d rather go with the guy than us. But at the same time, as she went to a great deal to be with us (phonecalls, phonecalls, phonecalls), I thought she wouldn’t meet him tonight and we’ll have a girls night out. It’s either because the accumulation of all the things she’d done to me, or because the lychee martini (which was surprisingly good that night, thanks to Tamara who insisted to have the bartender made it right), I got fed up. Really fed up. Usually I’d just shrugged, “whatever, that’s her, why bother” kind of mode, but this time I couldn’t do it. I was tired of being her backup, her sloppy second, her security blanket, her cover. If anything goes well, she could go with the guy. If not, she still has us. The concept is fine, I don’t mind doing my job as a friend, but at least she had the courtesy to tell me upfront.

So after years of accepting her (while everybody always asks what makes us become friends and how I could put up with her selfish attitude), I blew up. I left Red Sq without saying anything. And since I know that I could be scary when mad (see, that’s the good thing of being older, accepting your own flaws!), and having the urge to say and show it to her, I chose to text her. I told her that I’m tired of being her sloppy second and unless she start appreciating me, I won’t respect her anymore.

She replied immediately, apologize (which is good), and she should’ve told me that they’re coming to red sq too and not when they’re there already (which is not the entire concept why I was upset, but could talk to her about it later). And 5 minutes later she texted me again, “R u still at Blowfish? We’re going there.”

It’s 1.37AM.
I shoved my mobile back to my clutch without replying her text, and went back to my friends.

Why bother feeling upset while I could have a good time with my friends?

After have reached the age of 32 this month, I spent several days to really open up my eyes, ears, heart and soul, just to understand what it means to be included in “over 30″ box. This is what I’ve found so far:

Being older means expect the unexpected.
Like when yesterday Tamara texted me, inform me that the guy I dated a few years back and now is just married, actually has known his bride for 6 years and has asked her to marry him 2 years ago. Which means when he dated me, he’s had committed to someone but keeping his options open. After I read Tammy’s message, I only murmured, “Bastard”, shrugged, and kept on driving my car home. No emotional sweat.
Or when this morning when I was eating my breakfast, the cappuccino cheesecake, and found several coffee beans in the cake and almost choked, I only murmured, “Stupid chef”, shrugged, and kept on eating. No fork down.

Being older means being busier.
A year ago I just made one notice for birthday bash and everybody agreed. This time, it took 2 weeks after my birthday to get people together in one place. Some even couldn’t come because they were in Bali (huh!) for early holiday (huh!). Can’t blame it on people though, because I myself have been working so hard the entire December I hardly see the sunlight because I always finished after 9.00 PM. And it’s scary to see the schedule on my phone because sometimes it looks more like a contact list rather than meeting list. Is it because the company realizes that we’re on the most peak productivity period so they just stashed the responsibilities away to us?

Being older means being calmer.
We planned the B(itch)’s Day Out by visiting 8 places: Bakerzin for coffee, Bugil’s for Spaghetti Tuna and chocolate desert, then start barhopping: Burgundy (all time favorite), Babyface, Blowfish, BATS, Bedroom, and Bros Lounge. However we only managed to visit three of those places, and went home at 3AM. No hangover, no jackpots, no fighting over guys, we managed to get home safe and sound.
It also means that my ideal weekend is now changed from visiting bars to be visiting spa and beauty salon for massage, pedicure, and other self-indulgent. We Indonesians never realize that we are so lucky to be able to do this almost all the time, it’d cost fortune elsewhere and wouldn’t be as good as here.

Being older means being wiser.
On one Sunday afternoon, tired after shopping, I was waiting for the lift in the apartment’s basement lobby. Two african guys entered and started talking to each other. One looked at me and said hi. I automatically replied (I was being polite) and he’s surprised that I could speak English (oh, poor man, where have you been so far?). But then he’s freaking me out by asking whether I live here or visiting, am I by myself or with others, can he get my phone number to talk about business (what business??). Instead of stop talking and ignore him, I looked at him and said that I don’t give my phone number to strangers, and I said it nicely. 2 lift doors were open and I waited them to enter one and I went to the other one. They quickly got out and went to the same lift as me. I pressed the “G” button, kept saying no to whatever they asked, and went out at the ground floor. Luckily they didn’t follow me! Where’s the “wiser” part? Oh, next time, I’d just shut my damn mouth up and pretend to be deaf or imbecile.
It also means I could stop the urge of buying Gucci wallet just because it’s 30% off regular price, but understanding that it’s not a classic, it’s a green wallet, I know myself, and I know that in the next 2 months I’d be bored and start looking for an excuse to buy a new wallet. So I put the wallet back and went out of the store. It hurts, though…..

Being older means appreciating quality rather than exterior.
That’s why I’d rather to go to Cazbar, Bugil’s or Eastern Promise (yay, Bart must be happy I mentioned all of his bars!) because 1) the food is incredibly good and not overprice, 2) everyone knows everyone in Caz, Bugil’s (actually at its website the motto is: Where everyone knows your wife…) or EP, it feels home. And most important thing:
3) the drink is “correct”. I like Burgundy because they’ve got great wine selection and the bar is not too busy, but it’s pricey and I hate going to Red Square because their cocktail is the worst in town and we barely could move let alone dance. So nice, posh, luxury places don’t do it for me anymore, they must serve nice food and drink, and the staffs must be outstanding. It’s like having an Illy coffee rather than Starbucks. It’s two totally different things, and I choose the first one, no doubt. It also means that I’d rather buying classic items rather than having 200 bags that only last for 6 months.

Being older means appreciating small things.
Like having the internet connection back makes me realize how I miss my virtual-unrealistic world. Or eating mie goreng Indomie, because in Scotland I couldn’t find one! Or feeling touched by my temporary staff who went to a great deal to buy me a birthday gift while it’s totally unnecessary. Or having my girlfriends around me all the time, to share very, very unimportant stories and gossips all the time….

Being older means… well, being old.
Which means now my back is stiff, and I have to turn off the computer, soon. And overheard the university students talking in the elevator ride, about their assignments, their bitchy lecturers, their library books, at 7.00 AM in the morning, and it flashed back to me that the same thing happened….14 years ago!