I think the combination of being in a holiday mood, having too many things to do/people to meet/parties to attend, and having crap internet connection at home, makes me abandoning my blog. It has been over a week and I haven’t been bothered to update it.
So I arranged to meet up with Therry at Cazbar yesterday. I thought I would be motivated to write something once I sat down on its wooden chair, had the lamb chop with a non-stop wine supply on the side. But Cazbar’s internet connection was down right after we finished my lunch today, and only bounced back before six, right before the cheese night started, and right before Nonie came to pick me up. So I couldn’t even check my emails, let alone updating my blog there, and must do everything when I got back home. Darn.
Anyway, It is good to be back. Summer has been cold in Aberdeen, and Jakarta is at least 20 degrees warmer, and I enjoy every minute of the heat. I have been pampering myself in the past week, and have been to lunches, dinners and parties I had to force myself to have some quiet nights in to recharge and have some decent sleep in my own bed rather than crashing at Ecky and Sam’s before dawn…
But it’s funny that after only a week I start missing Scotland. I miss the cold (yes, I do!), I miss its quietness and peaceful surrounding, I miss the city’s predictability, I miss its certainty, and I miss its routines.
I went to see my ex-colleagues at Pacific Place because it’s the closest to my ex-office, and the place apparently is very during lunch time, receiving citizens of SCBD. I was going up on escalator to the first floor, walked away from the crowd and found the much less busy one, surrounded by unopened shops, reached the second floor, before I realized what I just did. I avoided the crowd.
I went to Senayan City with my mum and heard the commotion on the main lobby. There was some promotion event in front of the elevator, with only one or two lost toddlers watching the sad guy saying something nobody cared or could hear. Something ticked me off and I felt really mad. I sent text to my friend who knows the owner of the mall, asking why Senayan City becomes a traditional market, with a master ceremony screaming on top of his lung and an ugly echo from bad sound system and speakers. He phoned immediately, asking what was wrong. And then I realized what drove me mad. It was the noise that I couldn’t stand it.
I was in Plaza Senayan last Friday, killing time before going to meet the girls for Nonie’s birthday, and I only managed to keep my composure up to the 9th sales person who offered me an HSCB credit card. The poor 10th guy was shrinking in shock because I barked at him even before he opened his mouth. I felt sorry right afterwards, because I know he worked by commission and tried to gain a new customer. But I couldn’t help it, I wanted to look around without having people in black chasing after me. The perfume lady who touched my shoulder and called me “sayang” (darling) also received my icy look and harsh comments. I wasn’t proud of what I did, but I hate being touched by a stranger, especially the one who shoved a stinky tester under my nose even though I kept saying no.
I arrived at Tabac right at 7 PM and nobody was there. I realized I was back in Indonesia where being late is socially acceptable, so I ordered some lychee martini. It tasted good and I made a mental note to tell this to Tamara, the martini fan. But when Nonie and Ecky arrived we decided to open up a bottle of wine, and we chose something simple, Jacob’s Creek Carbenet Sauvignon. I shrieked in horror when the guy said it’s Rp 500,000. Astagadragon, the same wine only costs Rp 120,000 in Scotland!
Have I become Scottish?
Oh God. Oh God…