Lots of people have been trying to sway me. To vote for Obama, to vote for McCain, to vote third party, to just not vote (as some badly conceived statement of protest, I think the last one is.*)

I don't mind intelligent discussion and attempted persuasion.

What I do mind are ignoramuses.

Really, that's too polite.

What I can't stand are idiots.

For example, politics in general came up in a group discussion. A guy next to me said something like 'Anyone who votes for Obama is a moron.' The guy is entitled to his opinion, however juvenile-ly he may state it, but I asked him 'Why?'

 - What do you mean why?
 - Why would I be a moron to vote for Obama? I know all sorts of people voting for Obama. Some I would consider highly intelligent.
 - Yeah well Obama is going to increase abortion, he's going to destroy what we've worked for in Iraq, he's going to increase handouts to people who don't deserve them, the tax burden will increase, and look what type of person he would put on the Supreme Court!

While I don't like a lot of Obama's stances, I also don't like people misstating the facts. But I ignored the fact that abortion is already allowed, and unless Obama holds a gun to pregnant women's heads, individually, he'd have a hard time INCREASING it. I ignored the fact that this guy probably couldn't actually tell me what we've worked for in Iraq (I heard the conversation going something like: Him -"We're there because of 9/11, duh."  Me - "No, that's Afghanistan." Him - "We're in Afghanistan?"). I ignored the tax thing because it's waaay to complicated to address with these people. 

I asked just one question. It's the same one I asked when someone told me they were voting Obama, because McCain was 'too pro-life' and 'would start wars with any country he didn't like' and 'Look who he would put on the Supreme Court!'

What I asked was "Did you vote for your last Congressperson?"

Blank stares both times. Again, "You don't have to give me names, just did you vote for your representative in the House and/or Senate?" *stammer stutter equals no*

Here's what I told both of these people.

McCain does not have the power to start wars willy-nilly.** Obama cannot simply pick the most liberal, loose constructionist, anti-life person out there and appoint him or her to the bench. Neither of them can fundamentally alter the tax system.

Without help, that is.

Our country has a fundamental system of checks and balances. The President pushes agendas, but cannot simply declare what he wants and have it happen one way or the other. It's a 'family' decision. Congress allocates money for war: no dough, no war. The Senate must confirm Supreme Court nominations, and whom they don't like, they vote down (Harriet Miers ring any bells?). The President can veto bills, but can be overridden.

So when you claim to be concerned about the state of the country, and you are quite vocal about who we need to elect, and you tell me my vote in the presidential election is 'a monumental deal', and yet you don't vote in Congressional elections, you do not understand our country, and you are an idiot.

A friend of mine thinks we should go back to the system of having only landowners vote. He's got a complex argument, but it boils down to; they're the most effected, they are (in general) the most educated, the system worked in the past, etc.

I beg to differ. My main arguement is that such a system is ripe for abuse. Once people have that power, it would be a stranglehold. There's a plethora of things they could do. They could make land taxes low and food taxes high. They could pass legislation making it almost impossible for anyone else to ever acquire land. Land would be passed to heirs, and who would want Paris Hilton being one of a select few to determine our next leader? 

Hmmm. That's an idea.

Is there a way we could just keep the stupid people from voting?

 * Yoda-ism for the day.

** Or is that what Clinton did in the Oval Office?

Even better, someone who can cook. I think I shall try this somtime. Whenever I get time to actually cook. So, three months maybe.

Mungkin sebenarnya kontrak politik seperti ini terlihat biasa saja, atau mungkin ada juga yang menganggap ini hanyalah dagelan saja. tapi buat gw pribadi,, dengan menandatangani kontrak politik ini saja, sudah cukup memperlihatkan niat baik dan keseriusan kang Kombor untuk menjadi anggota legislatif dan mencoba berbuat sesuatu yang baik bagi negara ini. Gw juga cukup yakin dengan kredibilitas kang Kombor saat ini, dan mudah2an kredibilitas dan semua nilai2 yang gw anggap masih dalam kategori baik ini dapat berlanjut hingga nanti pada saat beliau terpilih menjadi Anggota Legislatif.
Buat kang Kombor,,maju terus kang,,gw dukung sepenuhnya untuk menjadi anggota legislatif 2009

that's all folks
see you at Baksos YMML III :)

Here's what resides in my pocket, in no particular order.

- my insurance cards
- my ATM card
- my credit card
- One meagre, lonely dollar.
- Three ‘Free Cookie’ coupons for a local restaraunt.
- One ‘Free Sandwich’ coupon for Dominos’ new oven baked sandwiches.
- A punchcard for a local coffee shop - 10 punches = free coffee.
- two giftcards to said coffee shop that I earned from work.
- a punch-card for a cool, hole-in-the-wall bookstore. 10 punches = free book.
- a ‘Five Buck Club’ card for a movie theatre nearby; after a movie is out a few weeks, you can get into any showing for 5 bucks. Worth the wait.
- a business card from a local cop. may come in handy . . .
- my blood donor card.
- a signed, laminated card certifying my standing/rank as a martial artist (some states require documentation for carrying certain weapons . . . yeah, ok, long story. Think of it as CPR certification card.)
- my license
- my college ID. This I’ll only need for three and a half more months!
- a punch card for the school dining hall, because I'm not on the full meal plan
- my library card (highly essential)
- a Borders rewards card
- a Best Buy Rewards card
- a piece of paper with some codes for work
- a guitar pick. I'm not sure why, because I am barely a 'beginner' and also I don't really use a pick very often, but maybe it was to remind me to practice. Though not being able to remember what it was supposed to remind me of may be a sign it's not working.

Believe it or not after seeing the length of this post, this is a fairly small wallet. I don’t carry a purse, and I want to be able to fit everything in my pocket if need be. The wallet itself is more material than I like and comes to not quite an inch thick. All this stuff in my old, now dead wallet was about half an inch.  I also have my keys, a few keychains, and a pocketknife with a pen attached to a corner of the wallet with a carabiner.

Looking back over that list, I’m noticing that almost everything is connected to food or media (books/movies/music) in one way or another. I guess the "Contents of the Dead Man’s Pockets" can tell us quite a bit after all.

Now, what's in your wallet?

I've had many rather interesting situations of habitation. I've lived in empty houses, dorms, apartments, whathaveyou. I've had people offer their homes to me for short periods of time, both when they were there and when they weren't. This has been a huge blessing (especially if they have cable!)

To this point in my life I have never owned a car, not by choice but because there just hasn't been another option. I've been able to bike, walk, get a ride, or even use others cars to get to where I needed to go. I once got a nail in the tire of a car I was using and Bro. Johnny helped me out, big time.

I once locked myself out of my house, with the only spare keys being several hundred miles away (long story). An older retired gentleman from my church, who had been a locksmith all his life, came and let me in. It was one of the the coolest-and-simultaneously-scary things I've seen: a gray-haired man in a full suit breaking into my house in about 30 seconds flat.

I've stayed at people's houses, been fed many times, and generally received an abundance of hospitality. (The food thing is big with me, if you can't tell.) A few times I've been slipped cash, giftcards, and plates/bags of food at church. Baptist churches have flaws, but 'people who can't cook' is not listed among them.

I have occassionally often constantly-since-I-started-college worried about money, but I have never gone hungry, homeless, or without a fallback plan in case either of those things happened.

So while I would classify myself as a ferociously independent person, I have to say I would not be where I am without scores of others, some who I know and think of fondly, and others I barely know at all.

Or at least I would be here hungry, cold and depressed.

Ya Tuhanku,
Kalau dia bukan jodohku,
jangan sampai dia mendapatkan jodoh yang lain,
selain aku seorang…
Kalau dia tidak bisa dijodohkan denganku,
jangan sampai dia mendapatkan jodoh yang lain,
biarkan dia tidak berjodoh sama seperti aku…
Dan pada saat dia telah tidak memiliki jodoh,
jodohkanlah kami kembali…

Ya Tuhanku,
Kalau dia jodoh orang lain,
putuskanlah! Jodohkanlah denganku…
Jika dia tetap menjadi jodoh orang lain,
biarkanlah orang itu bertemu jodoh dengan yang lain
dan kemudian jodohkan kembali dia denganku…

Ya Tuhanku,
kabulkanlah doa dan permohonan hambamu ini…
Amin…
==================================================
dapet dari milis,lucu bgt

If you know me at all, you would probably take me for a big-dog person. In fact I am. I wanted a big dog growing up - someone to play with and who would always run with me and my 3 best friends into the woods or wherever we were off to.

My mother, on the other hand, was not a dog person, big or otherwise. So ex-nay on the og-day.

When we moved down South, I figured I had a better chance. We had a yard (though fenceless) and I was older (which automatically implies more responsible, right mom?) and lots of people I knew had dogs. I blindly hoped an Alaskan Husky puppy would show up on our porch. When I realized that the poor dog would likely have heatstroke if it did, I moved on to a lab. Golden, chocolate, whatever.

Needless to say none of this happened.

Then one day I was working at the camp our church runs when one of the women showed up with this dog. The dog didn't look all that amazing, and she was kind of skittish of people. But the woman lived on a ranch with lots of animals, and was determined NOT to let the dog inside the house (she's the kind of woman who, after you leave, wipes the table under the coasters the drink was necessarily on at all times).

Anyways. My mom is a softie for stuff like that, so we took the dog home 'temporarily' until they could find an owner. That was, I think August 2000.

If you know me at all, you would laugh that I became the proud owner of a Pekingese named Cookie. (If you google 'pekingese' you get all sorts of variations, but she kinds looks like this. Only way better looking. Sorry to whoever's dog that is.)

But I did. Yeah, sure, like everyone ever owning a pet, I complained sometimes about the work and the walks and stuff. But she really behaved quite well after the initial few nights of freaking-out.

We took her to the vet who confirmed she had been abused. (Anyone who abuses a helpless animal like that deserves to be shot, plain and simple.) Because of this, she was really skittish during thunderstorms and around new people. Yes, she was a 'yippee' dog for the first couple minutes you walked in the door or if you rang the doorbell!, but in general, well behaved.

And sneaky. Oh yes, she was a female! Dad tried this whole campaign where 'the dog can't go anywhere carpeted . . . ' yeah, uh huh. That didn't last long. And like any smart child, when in trouble she runs to the member of the family who is NOT mad at her and sucks up to them. (My brother used to do this exact same thing. Drove me nuts. But it's cute when the dog does it.)

Anyways the point of this whole thing is to set up this one story. I was walking Cookie through the neighborhood and she had stopped to sniff some inconsequential-to-my-untrained-and-far-inferior- nose leaves, and I had kind of meandered on ahead as far as the extenda-leash would let me. (Yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up, I can hear you picturing me).

So I was a little ways away, and all of a sudden around the corner of this house runs this lab-sized mutt of a dog. I think he had seen Cookie, but then I kinda jumped, and he turned for me.

I'm not kidding, this was not a friendly sort of dog. It's weird how stuff really does slow down when you're in a situation like that, but the first thing I noticed was the no collar, then I saw the hair standing straight up, the tail straight down, and the teeth. Oh, I noticed the teeth. And this dog was growling. What kind of insane freakin creature would run at a human . . .

but he was. the next thing I knew I had dropped the leash. Cookie finally noticed what was going on, but the extenda-leash was zipping towards her (and since it is like a 4th of her size and headed towards her low-to-the-ground face, I can hardly blame her for not liking that so much.)

In martial arts one of the first lessons ground into us was never ever to call 'help.' Yell fire, THAT get's people's attention. When you yell help, no-one wants to get involved.

But I distinctly remember thinking: "Yell fire! Wait. It's lunch time on a school day. The houses around me all have school-aged kids. The parents all work. Except those two houses. Those are older retired people. That house is for sale and they moved. This is not at all helpful. Mom will probably start grabbing family heirlooms if I yell fire. Also not helpful. So, yell help. The house is a little ways off, but everyone always says I'm loud, so here goes nothing . . . " all in a second or so.

As the dogand I collided, I started screaming for help for all I was worth. I think it actually startled the dog, so that was a double bonus. Meanwhile, the actual collision part is where the slo-mo part of the tape ends and the fast-forward kicks into gear. I don't remember a lot, other than trying to stay away from the business end of the dog. I am wrestling this stupid dog and wouldn't you know, my bowling-ball-weight little lump of fur realizes this is not a good thing, and starts running towards us, barking and growling! Which granted, was not ferocious in the least, but made me feel better.

Back to slo-mo. I screamed for help, yelled at Cookie to GO HOME, (I think I confused the poor dog, there was this 'what the heck, woman, I can take on anything' look in her eyes that I'd like to think she got from me) and then the nasty dog realized that he was picking on somebody his own size, but a tasy little morsel was at hand. He turned his head towards Cookie, and that's when I first really discovered I could apply what I learned in the dojo. I got a beautiful-if-I-say-so-myself chokehold locked in from behind and held on for dear life.

So here I am, lying in the middle of the road, choking this dog. Cookie had confusedly started back towards the house when I yelled at her, but that didn't last long, and she is now running towards me again, still barking and trying to attack.

Then my mom came flying out of the house in her bathrobe (have you ever noticed that these situations, like the mailperson coming to the house, never happen at the opportune moment?) and started yelling. Not words of encouragement at her only human daughter, oh no, she started yelling for Cookie to COME! (Which she did. Maybe she thought I had the situation under control. I didn't. But at least she was obedient.)

The dog wasn't making any mean noises any more, and I honestly wanted to get as far away as possible. Without really planning or anything, I let go and started kicking and yelling. I don't remember exactly what I yelled, but 'BAD DOG! NO NO' were in there somewhere. I connected one kick before we parted, and then I ran (backwards!) for my house.

More blurs until the Animal Control guy came. I saw the dog in his truck, but I dunno how he got it in there. I'd like to think I stunned it, but realistically, I'm guessing he had some hamburger in there.

He said the dog had attacked another person a few weeks before, but the guy was golfing, and so he hit the dog with his 7-iron.* The A.C. guy checked Cookie and myself over. The dog had torn my pants, but there was no actual blood, so get this, the A.C. guy said they had to return the dog to its owner! I asked if the road rash on my arm counted. He said no. Basically, as long as the dog did not permanently harm someone, they couldn't do anything about it.

All that is beside the point. The point is, my dog, who weighed 10 pounds soaking wet, who had been abused and had every reason to run from an animal that far outweighed her and had teeth longer than her tail**, instead ran towards the fight to help me. Is this stupidity? Quite possibly. Is it brave? Quite certainly.

You might not like dogs. You might loathe little dogs. But today I tip my proverbial hat to a sweet creature who could tear you to little pieces if you threatened her or me.

At least, she acts like she could.

*No, I don't know the actual club, but it sounds better than 'random club' or 'putter'. 
**slight exaggeration, but up close they were pretty big.

So I figured I would stop by the little grocery store on my way back from work and pick up some things before I ran my other errands.

After arriving at said store I did not get a cart because A. I didn’t have a quarter (stupid carts that make you pay so you’ll be sure to return them) and 2. If I had to carry stuff I would be sure to only get what would fit in my backpack. Theoretically.

I picked up some necessities; lettuce, cheese, apples, bread, a frozen pizza, Ghirardelli brownies . . . OK, the last may not seem like necessities, but they were cheap and I have an occasion coming up which allowed me to justify it in my head. (for the curious, the occasion is celebratory and not related to any sort of depression girls (or boys - let's not be sexist here - use chocolate for. Just pre-empting that thought process.)

Anyways. I got up to the checkout, went through, and scanned my credit card. Then the machine made a funny beeping noise. Uh-oh.

The cashier informed me 'Oh, sorry, we don't take credit cards. Do you have a debit card?' Well as a matter of a fact my mother's paranoia about someone wiping out my bank account has kept me from getting one (and probably saved me from a few impulse purchases as well.) I didn't have cash because it was on my list of errands I hadn't gotten around to yet, due to rain. OK, write a check . . . oh no, they don't accept checks.

This store is not a mom and pop store; it's part of a chain, and I have shopped at another link in the chain which DID take my credit card. So I was a little confused. I hadn't seen a sign, so apparently, one is supposed to inherently understand that this particular store only takes cash or debit. Which yes, after living here for as long as I have, I should know, but I didn't. I haven't been that embarrassed . . . well, at least this month.

The record did not last long. As I was about to tell the cashier to forget it because I didn't want to leave the stuff, bike to my bank's nearest and only ATM (no way am I paying a 3 dollar fee to withdraw from another ATM) and come back, the woman behind me in line asked 'How much is it?' The cashier told her . . . and she said she would pay. And wouldn't take no for an answer. (It may have been because I was so shocked I stuttered. It hardly came across that I was capable of speech, let alone forceful.)

So I was then far more embarrassed than I have been yet this month, as well as the most grateful AND speechless, which hasn't happened . . . well, I can't even remember how long. My first thought (after the wave of embarrassment had receded a little) was that that was the nicest thing a Northern stranger has done for me since I've been up here. (For the record, my second thought was 'I should put something back.'*)

 
Again, this embarrassment record did not last long. I was so stunned that as she stepped forward to swipe her card and key in her PIN, I was still staring (I have a sneaking suspicion my mouth was open) at the last place I had been looking, which was the card machine. She kinda looked at me funny as she went to type her PIN. 'Now, you're not planning on wiping out the rest of the account, are you?'

I don't think I blush easily, but I could feel the heat emanating from my cheeks and starting to cook my frozen pizza which was sitting on the counter 3 feet away.

Anyways this was my brief encounter with a generous and extraordinary woman, and I only hope she stumbles across my blog so she knows how grateful I am.

Which is very, very much so.

*and my third 'Hey, don't I still need milk and grapes and eggs and . . . ' KIDDING!

Dapet dari milis, lumayan buat pencerahan, kalo lelaki tetaplah lelaki :evil:

1. When people who don't have to, do.

I am on a soccer team. I never played before college, my first year trying out I made the reserves, second year I made the team, third year I lettered, and coming up is my forth year. Just to make the team I know I need to work during the summer. (Read: run. a lot. and I do so hate running when there's no direct object . . .) But there are many players who could make the team just by stepping on the pitch. So when they go running and do sprints or jump rope or whatnot, that deserves some respect.

2. People who adopt.

Double disclaimer: there are people who adopt for the wrong reasons just like there are people who have kids for the wrong reasons. and don't get me wrong, kudos to all who have and care for kids in any way. But adoption presents a whole new set of problems, from the government poking its nose in your life, possible legal problems, kids throwing the 'you're not my real family' in your face, what have you. It's quite an undertaking. Recently I've seen a few different sets of parents with their adopted children, and I have to admire what they've thrown themselves into.

3. People in the armed services.

I know this sounds like it's just a prerequisite for these lists and I slapped it on here, but seeing some of my friends in the military makes me respect even more what they're doing. It's not just the active duty and 'danger element' that makes it worth admiring, it's the getting up early for grueling workouts, working out on your own so you can make it through the grueling workouts, following arms-length lists of sometimes-inane rules (having personal experience with this one makes me respect the ability even more), shedding your hair and other aspects of 'normal' life, learning all sorts of technical things, working as a unit, defending your friends and country, having to deal with seperation (more than just the armed forces half has to deal with that), and I could go on.

4. There are more . . .

obviously I admire people who fit into none of these categories. (Although the first category really expands far beyond soccer and into all aspects of life.) Maybe I'll lis some more later. Meanwhile, give me something or someone you respect.

Base colour: Wattyl water-based house paint - 'Madagascar Blue', with additional streaks of Wattyl 'Weekender' and Wattyl 'Bluebird'.

Acrylics: Lemon Yellow, Vermillion, Cadmium Red, Lamp Black

Inspired by Frederick Church's 1860 painting Twilight in the Wilderness. I inadvertently put it on its side to fit it into a temporary home in a bookcase and it seemed to 'work' better than a landscape.

selanjutnya,,biarkan foto yang berbicara,,,,,,

nb: becandaan aja koq,mohon maap kalo ada yang tersinggung *lirik yudhis* n foto by cK yg lagi keranjingan sotopop :D

Respect is earned, worked for, and slowly accumulated. You can throw some away and spend it wantonly, but know it will be at least twice as hard to earn the same amount back.

Recently a person in authority said something I personally thought was wrong. Actually, it was entirely asinine.

The next day said authority stood up and said they (I know, noun singular/plural disagreement, but it helps add to the general anonymity) had received a letter from a particular person. They said the person was my peer, and then they proceeded to ravage said letter-writer's letter and insult his general person. The authority did not read the letter aloud or even quote from it, they 'represented' it and then 'refuted' it, basically saying 'you're looking for an excuse to dismiss what I said, but you need to listen because I know what I'm talking about!' The authority then re-iterated all former points which had already been refuted in various conversations by myself and others.

First I thought 'wow, I hope the letter writer wasn't an idiot or rude, because they had a point, but sometimes you can misrepresent a good idea or cloud it with stupidity.'

Then, I got asked by multiple people if it was me, and I had to say no. I kinda wished it were.

THEN I found out who wrote the letter. So did several others. At that point, it was over for the authority.

See, the letter writer is well known to be a person of integrity, unfailing politeness, and brilliance. Just by hearing his name, it can be known assuredly that the letter was logical, carefully reasoned out, and respectful, and (in my humble opinion) absolutely right. And to call him out anonymously in front of a crowd, dismiss his opinions as trash, and assert your own supremacy when you have not earned the respect of your audience . . . I'm not sure if it proves you are desperately grasping at authority and respect you are not able to gain in other ways, or if it proves you are oblivious to reality.

I'm sure it proves you do not care about maintaining any respect I may have still had for you.

"Hi, Mel!"

I enjoy sitting in a mall, or a car, or wherever, and just observing the human ebb and flow. I try the whole Sherlock Homes-ian thing of deciphering where people are from and what they are up to. I contend he had it much easier, because everywhere there is asphalt  (no mud, debris, etc.) and social classes are not as distinguishable in the everyday. Oh, and also he was smarter than me.

The opium might have helped too.

Anyways, I enjoy the socialogical aspects of things, be it TV or reality. What is that large, large woman's background? How did that man get that girl to fall for him? When did they lose their minds and decide to have kid # 4 after the 3 other holy terrors? Was it not exactly intentional? Does she hate him for it now, as he runs off to work and leaves her with it all?

Not just what but why. Why do certain people get billions of American Idol votes? Why does Jack cry in every episode of LOST? Why does my roomate announce certain things to the whole room every time she walks in? Why why why?

It's a fascinating world out there, to watch, analyze, dream, think, video, capture, and write about. What are you still doing staring at a computer screen?

Kita yang pernah mengukir cinta
Berbayang masa saat bersama
Hanyutkan kita coba hentikan

Reff
Sudahlah...aku pergi
Sudahlah...aku pergi

Lelahkan jiwa meski berharap
Rasakan lagi cinta kita dulu
Tapi ah..ah..kita terpisahkan

Derasnya sisi religi
Mengasah alur hidup kita
Jangan sesali
Coba kuatkan hati..oh
Aku pergi

Sudahlah,Padi

=============================================================================
Inilah persimpangan itu,,
saatnya untuk memutuskan,,
Segalanya harus diakhiri,,
Terima kasih untuk smuanya
Blog ini berakhir sampai disini,,,

salam,

Ade

I recently read that love is entirely a matter of chemistry.
That must be why my wife treats me like toxic waste.
David Bissonette

When a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.
Sacha Guitry

After marriage, husband and wife become two sides of a coin; they just can't face each other, but still they stay together.
Hemant Joshi

By all means marry. If you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher.
Socrates

Woman inspires us to great things, and prevents us from achieving them.
Dumas

The great question... which I have not been able to answer... is, "What does a woman want?
Sigmund Freud

I had some words with my wife, and she had some paragraphs with me.
Anonymous

"Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to a restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight, dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays."
Henny Youngman

"I don't worry about terrorism. I was married for two years."
Sam Kinison

"There's a way of transferring funds that is even faster than electronic banking. It's called marriage."
James Holt McGavran

"I've had bad luck with both my wives. The first one left me, and the second one didn't."
Patrick Murray

Two secrets to keep your marriage brimming
1. Whenever you're wrong, admit it,
2. Whenever you're right, shut up.
Nash

The most effective way to remember your wife's birthday is to forget it once...
Anonymous

You know what I did before I married? Anything I wanted to.
Henny Youngman

My wife and I were happy for twenty years. Then we met.
Rodney Dangerfield

A good wife always forgives her husband when she's wrong.
Milton Berle

Marriage is the only war where one sleeps with the enemy.
Anonymous

A man inserted an 'ad' in the classifieds: "Wife wanted". Next day he received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: "You can have mine."
Anonymous

First Guy (proudly): "My wife's an angel!"
Second Guy: "You're lucky, mine's still alive."

masih berniat menikah???

:lol:

Saya rasa tidak,,

Saya yakin masyarakat Indonesia sudah cukup pintar dan bijaksana untuk membedakan baik buruknya suatu informasi yang tersedia di dunia maya. Dan tidak akan dengan serta-merta mempercayai segala bentuk informasi yang diragukan kebenarannya.
Jadi terlalu naif rasanya jika hanya karena sebuah film yg dibuat oleh orang asing dengan tujuan2 yang tidak jelas ataupun sudah jelas untuk memecah Islam dan memberikan persepsi buruk dapat membuat sebuah bangsa besar dan juga bangsa dengan pemeluk agama Islam terbanyak didunia menjadi kebakaran jenggot dan melakukan blunder dengan melakukan pemblokiran2 brutal dan tak beradab.
Alih-alih melakukan tindakan bodoh tersebut, apakah tidak lebih baik jika sumber daya yg dipakai untuk pemblokiran itu digunakan untuk membuat segala jenis informasi tandingan yang dapat memberikan pencerahan dan meluruskan segala hal yang kita anggap keliru!!!

tulisan ini dibuat dalam kondisi sakit perut akibat sarapan terlalu pedas dan juga terinspirasi oleh posting mas Iman disini

A few things I do not do. Eat tomatoes. Watch Teletubbies [period]. Cry.

Two of these things I did today. One brushed by, but there was only real danger for a few seconds there. You can figure out which they were; that is not my point.

My point is I did these things because I wanted to. And I wanted to not for some personal gain, but because of a person.

Coach and Co. left today. A few months ago he retired as our coach, a few fewer months ago he got a job, and tonight he pulls out. Out of that house where we babysat and did laundry and went for Mrs. Coach to feed us breakfast (his fault: he forgot to schedule 'eating time' for keepers one year). Out of his office where have been many discussions of soccer and politics and even boys (usually ending with him saying 'ahh, they're not worth it'). Out of the realm where we watched dozens of games and fought dozens of battles and agonized together over the outcomes.

It's life. They know what they need to do, and they're doing it. But he said something telling today. He said he did not expect the magnitude of responses. The cake baking and the crying of some and the carrying of stuff and the carrying on.

That, my friends, that is what I want. I want for the maintenance guys to all make a point to come by my office and shake my hand. I want players to come to me for last-second advice and lingering conversations we could carry on for hours, postponing the inevitable. I want kids to come by my house and hang and take pictures. I want kids who don't really show emotion, to, well, show it. I want faculty who are in a whole different realm of scholastics and collegiate life to stop each other in the hallways and comment about it (yes, I heard a few of those today.) I want teachers (shout-out to Mr. Z) to work with kids so they can cut quizzes and worksheets and make it all up later, because they know what it means.

I'm not trying to say I want everyone to notice me. I don't want these actions for the sake of themselves. I want what they represent. What I'm trying to say is the 'little' people who know me, I want them to see me as a good woman. This requires genuinely being such, and that requires so much. But if I am genuinely striving, I think the right people will notice.

By the right people, I mean those I don't have to impress or obey or cater to. I don't care what the deans or the higher-ups or the administration or the muckety-mucks think. By the right people I don't mean the 'popular' kids or the imbeciles or whomever. I care what people like Rosie and Mr. Skyler and dr. Saxon and Mr. Midcalf and Naomi and Kevin & Marni Lawson and my kids in Kings Kids and my pastor and family and those I've worked with and my coach and his wife and my teammates and closest friends think.

Do THEY know I have been and am 'walking worthy'? If I give that many years of my life to something, will the people I really care about know I have performed to the best of my abilities, with others in mind? That's what I want. That's who I want to touch and applaud me silently, after I'm done I go about every day. Because that's what those hugs and handshakes and 'thank you's and tears really meant.

That you're good people. We thank you for it. And we love you.

Cengkareng, 9:06

*Jeritan hati sang penulis ketika terjebak didalam toilet yang tidak ada airnya dan sudah terlanjur "pup" dengan suksesnya

Read on.
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A group of children were playing near two railway tracks,
one still in use while the other disused.
Only one child played on the disused track,
the  rest on the operational track.

The train is coming, and you are just beside the track interchange.
You can make the train change its course to the disused track
and save most of the kids.
However,
that also mean the lone child at the disused track would be sacrificed.
Or would you rather let the train go its way?

Let's think what kind of decision we could make.
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Most people might choose to divert the course of the train,
and sacrifice only one child.
You might think the same way, I guess.

Exactly, I thought the same way initially, because
to save most of the children at the expense of only one child
was a rational decision most people would make,
morally and emotionally.

But, have you ever thought,
the lone child had in fact made the right decision
to play at a safe place?

Nevertheless,
he had to be sacrificed because of his ignorant friends who
chose to play where the danger was.

This kind of dilemma happens around us everyday.
In the office, community, in politics and
especially in a democratic society,
the minority is often sacrificed,
for the interest of the majority,
no matter how foolish or ignorant the majority are,
and how farsighted and knowledgeable the minority are.

The child who chose not to play with the rest
on the operational track was sidelined.
And in the case he was sacrificed,
no one would shed a tear for him.

The great critic, Leo Velski Julian, who told the story said
he would not try to change the course of the train
because the kids playing on the operational track should have
known very well that track was still in use,
and they would have run away if they heard the train's sirens.

If the train was diverted,
that lone child would definitely die
because he never thought the train could come over !

Moreover,
that track was not in use probably because it was not safe.
If the train was diverted to the track,
we could put the lives of all passengers on board at stake!

And in your attempt to
save a few kids by sacrificing one child,
you might end up
sacrificing hundreds of people to save these few kids.

While we are all aware that life is full of
tough decisions that need to be made,
we may not realize that hasty decisions
may not always be the right one.

Remember that what is right is not always popular,
and what is popular is not always right.

Cuma mau mengingatkan kembali bahaya merokok dan juga berharap produsen rokok di Indonesia berani pake bungkus kaya gini

Jakarta,
Atas nama Gombalers Indonesia

Jendral Bayut ™

Note: Jangan pernah menganggap enteng kalimat2 gombal, bila dilakukan dengan tepat dan dalam situasi dan kondisi yang baik dan benar, maka tingkat kesuksesannya dapat mencapai 99%. Jika masih ragu, silakan tanya kepada korban saya :evil:

There are so many factors that go into this, I cannot even tell you all the possibilities that flew through my mind. I still haven't decided. However, here's a mutation of that and another conversation from earlier.

Would you rather settle for the certain good, but not great, or hold out for the wonderful amazing best that will likely never come?

Specifically I'm relating this right now to love.

Would you take someone you can love and be loved by for the rest of your life, and could have a comfortable, at times moments-of-wonderful life. Friendship, companionship, comaraderie, enjoyment in one another, etc. Maybe you wouldn't even know what you're 'missing'. 

Or would you hold out for that passionate, deep, intimate relationship on the intellectual, spiritual, romantic, physical . . . every level?

Understand that a relationship like the latter may bring with it deeper struggles too, not just in the waiting but in the actual coming together of two such persons. Understand that this may bring a lot more uncertainty at first, (if you're waiting for the best, you're sometimes but not always sure you've found it at first) and there is a far less likelyhood of this happening and, for our scenario's sake, the former is a certainty, this is nowhere near.

Sure comfortable happiness, or unlikely euphoria?

Well, would you rather?