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bricolage \bree-koh-LAHZH; brih-\, noun: -a dump site for anything at hand, in mind-

Wednesday, November 06, 2002

east of the sun, west of the moon*

english version

blues: did you check the moon tonight?
nlf: I can't see the moon from here. can you?
blues: I'm east of the sun
nlf: I'm west of the moon
blues: I like it
nlf: you like to be the east of the sun?
blues: only if you are the west of the moon
nlf: LOL**

Before I realized it, I hadn't regretted my installing the instant messaging software.
Before I realized it, I had cherished the traffic-congested after hour for giving me a couple of hours extension.
Before I realized it, I had fallen for her. After six months of intensive mental exchanges. She was witty, smart, caring and fresh. Somehow she was built to always come up with uncommon topics of the day, smart pick up lines and spanking new way of looking at things.

I was still at the office that day. Fresh from the war room and hot debate whether to cut or not to cut some frames in the news footage to be aired later this evening. Well, actually in another two hours. The cameraman turned out to have recorded some interesting raw footages. The reporter would like to use it, but I as the head of a news department in this private TV station, thought differently. I am supposed to be bold, intriguing, analytical and wise at the same time. But I just think that the material might have some political backlash at us. I don't need crap like that while we have a good rating now.

blues: hey nee, how are ya?
nlf: I can see your building.
blues: I don't have a building, dear.
nlf: 18 floors, rite? with that big neon sign of your company.
blues: can you see that all the way from where you are?
nlf: I have a 20-20 vision. I'm not blind.
blues: am I east of the sun?
nlf: no, you are west of the sun

My heart was pounding. It was racing actually. With pure excitement.

blues: there is a bistro down your building, they have juicy apple pie.
nlf: scrumptious.
blues: it will be juicier if you share it with someone..
nlf: while gazing the west of the moon
blues: where should I deliver the pie?

She gave me the wrong number. I had to try all four cellular phone providers to contact her.

"I'm not sure.." She said flatly.
"What? Come on, we've known each other for almost a year. I'm asking you to meet me in a public place."
"A public place, which is across your building."
"Well, you told me you don't want to go somewhere else because of the traffic jam."
"Do you wear a tie?"
"Just get down here and if you don't like the way I look.." I exhaled for a second. ".. then ditch me."
"Really? I don't think you would dare to ditch me.." How seductive!

I recognize that voice. A bit heavy, but very womanly. I turned my back.
Now I believe that I have really fallen for her. A completed puzzle is set in front of me.

"Hi.. how are you?" She smiled. And I become a mozarella cheese on top of a hot pizza.
"I'm.. I'm good.." I tried to hide all that mixed feelings. I looked at her eyes. Her face. The final piece of 1000 pieces of puzzle.
"You're not good. You're blushing." She said coyly.

Heartwarming laughs were shared. The moon is on our west.

The world is in my hands again. The e-mail traffic, which exceeds the regular, business-like, less-than-10 kilobytes, became sweet and innocent remembrance of jasmine and vanilla. I really appreciate my nimble thumb thumping the keypad of my 6250. My heart does beat faster as I heard the soft beep of an incoming message and more. I'd rather cut my budget for TGIF after hour gathering with office buddies and spend it more on long distance calls. She collected and brought me the breadcrumbs I had left along my path of life.

"If there is a midnight flight, we would have watched waves crashed horizontally on our feet."
"If I could spare my last gulp of this warm Irish coffee with you, I would." *if you know what I mean by how!*

I was supposed to attend a book launching of a dear friend. But no one seemed to have mind and bothered my hailing a cab outside the cultural center.

A thousand stars gleam over her eyes. A smile so radiant illuminates the arrogant humongous statue looming on top of the hill. A smooth vibration crept through my thigh.

"Yes, sure. I won't forget to buy you a big Balinese kite." This is my heavy, commanding voice.
"Yes, honey, I'll be home in an hour." This one is her heavy, but womanly voice.

*inspired by diana krall's song, "east of the sun (and west of the moon) in her album "her best"
** laughing out loud

jakarta, 06/11/02



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