September: in retrospect

Ten days into October and I finally am back with my #RetrospectSeries. Was I lazy? Yep, most definitely. Was I just being forgetful? Quite possibly, since I only have a memory span of a goldfish. Was I busy? Well, if you consider wallowing in self pity is a major activity, yes I am most definitely busy that I didn’t have time to write and post the September #RetrospectSeries.

Remember when I said that August was a blur?

Yeah, well, September was no better. I felt like I was just running around doing loads of stuffs.

I went to Cartagena.

For work, mind you. Was it fun? It was work, what do you expect? Being in Cartagena cemented what I have been suspecting for the last six years, I am not cut up for the job that I have right now, but after investing six in a half years of my life here, the most responsible thing to do would be to stick it through until the end. Sounds like a coward’s reasoning? Maybe.

The search for the perfect apartment has come to an end.

Okay, calling it the perfect apartment is stretching it, but it is as close as I can get.  After a long debacle of finding the apartment, it all boils down to top three. The first apartment was a one bed room apartment with a tacky ceiling. And after awhile, I made peace with it and was about to sign the lease, but I was still holding on hope to the second apartment.

The second apartment was a two bedroom apartment. The owner speaks English which bodes well with me, and was very accommodating. Well, that was until they said I had to pay a deposit worth of three months rent of the apartment, and that I was only able to rent the place for only a year! Are you kidding me? I have to pay a three months deposit only to be kicked out by next year and have to go through the whole process of apartment search again? Nay!

During this ordeal, I randomly stumbled upon the third apartment. A one bedroom apartment that was strategically located and the owner was incredibly nice. Fast forward to mid September, I finally have my own apartment.

Filling up your house is not like in The Sims.

After I signed my contract to rent the apartment, I immediately went on a shopping spree to fill up the house. At that moment, I had only have a bed and a sofa bed. No TV, refrigerator, heater, plates, washing machine, etc. It was crazy! It was not fun! It was nothing like decorating your house in The Sims. And to top it all off, I had only a handful of Pesos with me, because half of the pesos was used to pay for my rent.

At the end of the day, however crazy it was, September has come to an end.

And I still haven’t felt like I’m home.



August: in retrospect

August was definitely like a blur. I know I’ve used the term ‘blur’ quite a number of times, but I think August fits the bill as being the month that is a blur to me.

I feel like I have travelled halfway across the world..

..and maybe I did. One day I woke up in the basking sweat of Jakarta. The next time I went to sleep, I woke up to the sunny and intimidating sun of Amsterdam. The next time I went to sleep again, I woke up to the chilly and sunless sky of Bogota. How do you collect the scattering thoughts you have and compile it into one single post when I still can’t comprehend that I am now halfway across the world from all things familiar?

I feel homesick but I am technically homeless..

..much like where I was back in the beginning of 2017. I was in Abuja feeling homesick but I am homeless. Cut to August, and I am back to square one. I had missed my home and I am homeless. How am I suppose to pour down what I feel when I am overcome with thoughts of missing my home?

I feel alone in a sea of smiles..

..and whilst it sounded like what a teenage girl would write, it is indeed what I’ve felt for the better part of August. Day in and day out, I’ve passed it with a smile that is so strain that by the end of the day, I feel like I have pulled a muscle on my face. I was smiling when my heart felt so alone and isolated. How do I write about these lonesome feelings, when I have to be strong the next day?

I feel lost..

..and indeed I am lost. I questioned everything that had happened, that is happening, and that will happen. Was it everything I had hoped for? Was it everything I had planned for? Who can say for sure?

I feel like 35 months is a long way to go.


July: in retrospect.

Three more days, mate. Three more days and I won’t be where I am today. Three long and excruciating days ahead. For months I’ve been dreading the day, and now there seems to be no point about dreading it, for the day shall come.

I have a lot going inside my mind right now, but it seems so hard to put into words. The anger, the sadness, the hollowness, the tears, the laughter, all seems like a blur; you know that it’s there, that it was what brought July came to life but it seems like a daunting task to bring it back to life once more.

I’m going to miss my family,

and as hard as it is to comprehend, I will most definitely miss them. Three years is a long time and 19,810 km is a huge gap to cross. I hope that the three years and the 19,810 km between us will not change us into a completely different human being. I would like to go back to the same Mum and Dad, brother and sister, aunts and uncle, and even cousins I have yet to enjoy the time spent with them.

I’m going to miss my husband,

and for all the bravado I’ve said about 8,985 km not being a problem, I have to accept that it is indeed far and a six hours time difference is hard to come by. I hope that the love and the commitment we’ve shared for the past six years serves as a strong foundation for what we’ve planned for our present and future.

I’m going to miss Elvis and Joplin,

and for all the tears I refused to shed when I last held the both of them last Sunday, I know that no one can be sure if three years is short enough for me to be able to hold you both again. I hope you stay strong and healthy, for you are my best of friends and that I have had the best time of my life giving my best for you both.

I’m going to miss my friends,

and for all the cold shoulder I seem to be giving them, I just don’t know how to best express how much going away this time around is very hard for me. I hope the best of everything for us, and that in three years time we will be a better version of who we are today and that we could pick up where we’ve left off.

I’m going to miss Jakarta,

and for all its traffic jam, this was the land where I was born and raised and I will always have that teeny tiny feeling of wanting to always come back here.

Here’s to the next big adventure to the unknown! 🍻


June: in retrospect.

Ah the dreaded July is coming tomorrow, which means I literally only have a month left to wallow in self pity before I actually have to pull my shit together and actually face the music, that is to say actually accept the fact that I am indeed moving to Colombia. Yay?

I still hate spending Eid Fitr.

Now don’t get all your knickers in a twist. I don’t hate the day, but I hate the activities and the things that happened on Eid Fitr. In Eid Fitr, I am supposed to spend it with the whole lot of family, and although they can be bearable (if I really try my best), more often than not, they are shitload of troubles; what with the nagging, the complaining, the whining, and the “let’s-pretend-we-all-like-each-other-for-a-day-but-comes-tomorrow-we-would-all-pretend-we-don’t-know-each-other-until-next-Eid-Fitr“. It’s just tiring. I am not even remotely nice on my good days, imagine how horrible I am on my bad days, especially when I have to pretend that I’m okay?

Apparently logic doesn’t exist.

I was asked whether or not I have finally been impregnated, even it is clear as a crystal that I haven’t met my husband for four consecutive months. Two things why this bothers me; (1) what I do and what I don’t do in the bedroom with my husband is my personal shit to deal with, please don’t poke around; (2) why the fuck would I be pregnant after not meeting my husband for four consecutive months? Would that not be posing another question as to whose kids would the baby be? But you know what? Fuck logic, because people seems to just want to see every couple to be pregnant, because it’s so interesting to know that people have sex and are expecting kids.

I guess not everyone is familiar with the concept of cause and effect.

I was compared with a neighbour’s kid the other day by me Mum. And then I was compared again with another kid by me Mum. The problem is that, it seems that my Mum might have forgotten that things just doesn’t happen because it wants to happen, things happen because there is something that triggers it. Hence the concept of cause and effect. Exhibit A; you can’t expect the kids to want to spend time together all the time when we were raised to not found comfort in spending time together, ergo the effect (not enjoying time together) is because of the preliminary cause (being raised not to enjoy time spent with family).

When cornered, just throw someone else under the bus (except that, you shouldn’t).

First off, let me tell you that this matter was actually already resolved but I feel the need to note this on my retrospect series, because after all this did happened in June. There was a time when my sister was cornered by our Mum regarding a certain delicate matter. After repetitive follow up questions from our Mum and she couldn’t handle it no more, she did the next best shitty thing; threw someone else under the bus, and that someone else is none others than yours truly. Look, this is just shitty move; first of all, I did not partake in the any decision that my sister made, and suddenly I’m playing shield for her to threw our Mum off of her? Yeah, pretty shitty if you ask me. I talked it out with her and she was sorry, but let this be a lesson that never, not in any circumstances, should you throw anybody under the bus when you are cornered, especially if the other party knows nothing about your situation, or even if they knew still don’t do shit like that.

I am seven days away from RAM coming home!

Okay, that’s just self explanatory.

Well, there goes my June. I’m not going to be cliche about welcoming July or anything, especially since I just want the earth to open up and swallow me whole before July comes around. And yes, I was being dramatic and I was speaking figuratively.


May: in retrospect

Ah I see I have become lazy in doing the Retrospect Series. Might it have something to do with my usual laziness or I just seem to have many things to be done, but it’s obvious I am doing nothing about it? Hmm. Don’t matter. What matter is that it is only two months (is it? Or is it three? One in a half?) until my departure, and it’s getting eerily real. I really should start packing and everything, but I haven’t. I haven’t even made a list of things I should bring. I have been just living my days as if nothing is about to change. Talk about being responsible, eh?

I did have some major things done actually during May. I did my medical check-up, psychometric test, got my passport, but what I didn’t do is actually submitting the much needed documents for the actual moving away. I have been putting it off for as long as I can remember. I had all the documents prepared, but I feel like to actually submit the said documents is to seal my fate and I’m not sure I’m ready to go.

I think I am just scared, but I never actually acknowledge the feeling, for to acknowledge one’s fear is to bring it to life and I really don’t need anymore distractions than I can handle.

That being said, I did have several panic attacks throughout May, but I handled it just fine.

Now, what else does May means to me?

I think May was that one trail that leads you to the rickety old bridge. You knew where the trail would lead you, you’re scared if it but you keep on going anyway, knowing that it is the only way out of your misery. I think May is here to prepare me for June, because by the time June ends I will be crossing the bridge of no return. Come July, I really don’t have any other reason but to seal my fate to move to Colombia. Gosh, dramatic aren’t I? I mean, we’re not even halfway through June and I’m already sweating over July.

Yep, I can feel my panic attack creeping up on me.

Oh, I also have been taking Spanish class, so that counts as something good amongst the many panic attack I’ve been having since May, right?



April: in retrospect

April. Four months until my departure.

It’s crazy to think that we’re already four months in 2017, well maybe not crazy per se, more like, “Who would have thought I’m alive for another year!”; which on hindsight is pretty crazy. Why? Well, let’s just say me turning 29 is something that never cross my mind. Oh right, my birthday is in April so that’s why the whole I’m still alive thing is sorta of important, for me, at least.

Moving along.

To be completely honest I really don’t know how April rolls around this year. Growing up, April was a sacred month, right from the first of April I would be doing countdown until my birthday. But, this year, amongst the whirlwind that is preparing for moving abroad (hopefully in August, cross fingers!) I really couldn’t be bothered with the countdown. I felt like I was constantly on the run. There’s always something to be done, something to be taken care of, people to text, people to meet, people to make friends with, and literally all the adulting things that I swore I would never want to do, but then I ended up doing it anyway.

Am I excited about turning 29?

I’m a bit indifferent about this one. Adding another number to my age bore no significance whatsoever to me. Never has, never will (I think). Weird thing about turning 29 is that I’m somewhat curious about turning 20. What’s 30 going to be like?

How’s work?

Strangely work hasn’t been that demanding, most probably because I haven’t been in the office for quite some time, which I am absolutely not complaining about. Speaking of complaining, I took back some of the things I’ve said last year about work getting in the way of my reading; because this year, work was not the one that gets in the way of my reading, my stressful situation is the thing that’s keeping me away from my reading. This is the last day of April, and I’ve just managed to read 11 books!!


And whilst we’re talking about books, what say you about what I’m supposed to do with my books? I have about 20-30-ish books that I haven’t read yet. Should I bring said books to Colombia or leave it back in Jakarta, with the possibility of me reading said books three years from now? But, if I do bring the books with me to Colombia, I’m taking way too much space in my luggage, and besides who’s to say that I won’t be hoarding books in Colombia, right? Oh the dilemma!

Okay what other things to complain about?

Ah well the usual brand new triumvirate!

I’m sorry, what’s that?

Oh, right, you don’t know this. See, when I was in high school, I came up with the Triumvirate Holiday, which consist of Eid Fitr, Christmas, and New Year. There was a time where all three holidays were days after each other and it was hell for me (excuse me drama flare). It means I have to spend a really long week with my family, and, put simply, my family is not the kind of family where people should be together for a long amount of time. Well, anyway, afterwards the three holidays became known as the triumvirate holiday and I avoid it like a plague (for a second I forgot the word avoid in English, I had to Google translate it).

But, now that I’m 29, I have another set of Triumvirate, Married-Being a Wife-Having Kids. Believe you me, I don’t know how many times have I been in a conversation where everything boils down to one, if not all three, of those things.

“Oh, you’re moving to Colombia? But you’re married, right? What does your husband think?”

“Moving to Colombia? How are you going to take care of your husband?”

“You’re going to live in Colombia? What about kids?”



Extra UGH!

Do I have to explain about this?

Let’s not, okay?

Let’s just say, most of the people I’ve met in the past months have been nosy pricks.

And with that, I end my retrospect series for April, the official month of UGH! in 2017!


March: in retrospect

I spent my years growing up doing countdown towards the month April. This year, all I ever wanted was for either January, February or March to stay where it was, let’s not have April come around.

I’ll turn 29 this year comes 13 April. I didn’t want April to come around because I’m scared of getting older; I’m just scared of growing up, of embracing future responsibilities, and of future challenges that may come my way. Sounds irresponsible? Maybe. But to justify that, I’m going to say that at the very least, I am honest about my fear and of who I really am.

Continue reading “March: in retrospect”