Sister getting married!

Finally we're in Bali. We've been on housearrest for the past week to get ready for the wedding. Last Monday me, my sister and brother wanted to dive with the sharks. We were talking about it next to Mom. When she realized what we're planning, her face changed. Bottom part she said no, under various risks of contacting TBC from the tube, stung by jellyfishes or eaten by sharks.

Then we conceded to going to kboxing practice instead. The look on Mom's face. Murderous.

But here we are in Bali! The sun is amazing. Unfortunately Mom said she's going to paint us back white is we have the courage to get a tan before the wedding.

So we had to wear 3 LAYERS OF 50+ SPF SUNBLOCK, as well as WEAR AN ANTI-UV UMBRELLA ALL DAY LONG while other tourists take pictures of us as they think we're some kind of a weird tribe.

On being home

Denica is home, baby. Arrived last week-ish, been preoccupied with writing paper. The only break I'm getting is now, when waiting for my supervisor's comments.

How is it like to finally be home?

Funny. Everything is the same as how I left it. Makes me feel I've been timetravelling back to before I left for Holland.

What amuses me is my 'first' re-experiences with some stuff. First time I stepped back into my room. The smell. The big bed. The soft plush stuffed toys. The big wardrobe. The convinience of having me own bathroom.

First time I touched my piano. How I just sat and stared at the keys. Feels weird. Really weird.

First time running on the treadmill again. Feels awkward. Havent been running in a straight, smooth line sheltered like that for 8 months.

First time coming out of the airport, seeing the looks on Ma and Pa. (Yes, my siblings found me coming home not a good enough reason to get off from their beds. Lazy bastards.) The ear-to-ear smile.

First time eating without having to cook. First time not having to clean my own room. First time driving again. First time not having to paddle to go somewhere. First time not wearing jeans for a whole week now. Nor coats. Nor anything that's basic function is intended to give you warmth.

First time knowing that your family is just in the next room.

First time missing Rotterdam. First time missing those freakshows. First time missing my kboxing practices and Wednesday rituals of biking back and forth with hunger and tiredness. First time missing how I like my eggs boiled. First time missing shopping for food from nearby Albert Heijn. First time missing lectures. First time missing going to the local pubs.

I guess there is the good and the bad part of any places, any where you are. Guess all you can do is make the most of now, because with absolute certainty am I certain that I will miss this hot, humid city once I'm biking in rain and wind.

Dreams

I wonder: if cars have navigational parts to let them know what to do next, why cant we have it as well? Wont it be so much more convinient, to have a bar telling us what move is best now, what optimalizes us next?

Sometimes I feel lost. Like my GPS decided to mess around with my mind and left me clueless.

When do we know when to dream, when do we know when to let go and live life as it is?

I am a dreamer, I love dreaming up to the point that it may be harmful to my wellbeing. I dreamt big, parches of adolescence when we think we can do anything we want, anything we set our minds unto.

I dreamt big.

As time goes by, slowly but surely I started to reshift my gears. I learnt to dream small and live large, trying to be content and to squeeze my life until the last possible drop. To appreciate the power of small things we take for granted, and most of all to find happiness.

But when do we know that we are instead compromising?

Last month I decided it's time for change. To try something new. And now I feel like I'm walking on eggshells. Precarious, afraid that I will step on the wrong one and hurt myself.

When do we know when to stop dreaming?

When do we know that we're falling on the same trap all over again?

More importantly, how do we stop when we realize that the dream has started to eat us alive?

Hours to 19

So here it is. The big day in 1 hour. 19. Wow.

Hello, I am Denica. I am 19. Yes, nineteen years old. No, you didnt hear me wrong. I am nineteen.

What happened to being 16, 17, 18? They all went passed their use by date, I suppose.

When I was a little girl, I would do everything in my power to keep my eyes open until 12 midnight before my birthday. As if wanting to start the day a little bit earlier, cheating time I guess. I have this belief that if I dont sleep the day would magically be longer, thus my birthday is prolonged even if just for a little bit.

Why? Maybe because I know that there'll be a cake with a pony icing on that day. Or the mere fact that I am able to wear my best outfit and take pictures in it. Or because I think my birthday is this magical day when flying ponies would come visit with fairies and take away evil potential-killing-Barbies from the world. Only on my birthday, and as weird as it may sounds, it makes me feel like I did something to make the world a better place. A Barbie-less world.

(Dont blame me. Blame my siblings for making me watch those Chuckie movies with them).

Or maybe it's the idea that I'm getting older. That I am no longer 8, or 9. I am now 10. And I had this idea that being 10 is going to be mind blowing with all the new things I am now allowed to do.

Well I am no longer 10 now. I am 19, and a moment of reflection makes me feel lost. 19. A step, a year to 20. Do I deserve it?

I act like I'm bloody 12. I fool around, laughing until my abs hurt watching Spongebob and trying to live everyday like it's my last. But now I'm 19. Call me old fashioned, but something about it makes me feel like I should act more mature. More appropriate. More like I'm 19.

But do I want to?

I know that I should. Or not. Depends.

So in the face of all the uncertainties in the world, I opened a bag of marshmallows, stick some on a stick and move it around above the fire from the gas stove. I then decided to write this while blowing the half burnt marshmallows (for those of you considering what to get me for my birthday, I suggest "Roasting Marshmallows for Dummies").

I have decided to wait until 12 tonight. While savoring my burnt, crispy, tender and sweet marshmallows. Maybe tomorrow will last a little bit longer. Maybe 19 wont be so bad after all. Maybe this year I will change the world. Maybe flying ponies will come visit. Maybe I will act mature. Maybe I will cut back on Spongebob. Or maybe, just maybe, everything will be fine.

Hereby I raise my cup of milk. Cheers, to all the uncertainties in the world.

Chins up. Shoulders back. Ass tight.

I'll see you when I am officially 19.

Countdown to Spring!

I cannot believe I'm flying home in 17 days! :) :) :)

Things have been hectic, and last weekend I was notified that a big ass paper was to be done in the time period that I'm skipping school. The image of me lounging around in Bali sipping my cocktails/coconut while watching the sunset and getting massages is brutally shattered.

My well deserved break, down the sink now.

I just have to find the time to sit down and figure out a research topic one of these days. With exams in 2 weeks.

I cant wait to come home.

Decided to come home again for Summer. Just booked my tickets. Well postponed break is better than nothing no?

Things I will do for a massage now.

The weirdest thing happened on my way to the conference last Monday. I was walking to the Centraal Station when this guy approached me, asking where the CS is. Being nice, I told him I'm going there now too and he can just walk with me. On the way, he told me about his job that he buys clothes to ship to underdeveloped countries. Then he asked if he can sell me something so that he'll be done with his job for the day.

I paused. Not really understanding his English nor his point. I told him I am on my way to a conference and I'm already running late. The he started begging me to sell him something, my coat, my broek (pants), my underwear.

No I had the same reaction you're having now. Jaws dropped, eyes widened and head spinning in disbelief.

I told him no, hell no. He started raising his bid, up to 250 euros. Oh my lord. Who needs coffee when you live in Rotterdam eh.

P.S. I did not sell my underwear. Not at the current rate anyway :p

Branded Red Lines

Religion, why is always so provocative? Every discussion leads to the same walls, and it's confusing to see people claiming superiority in bypassing those walls. Why do we have to break the walls? Why can't we just cherish the walls for what it's worth and move on with our lives?

I was raised a Catholic. Somewhere along the way, I lost my faith. My religion grew from faith to a culture, something that I do but not necessarily something I live for. I endured that adolescent phase of defiance, questioning and refusal of acceptance. But as time pass, I decided to live with the acknowledgment of the existence of the walls and move on.

I have to be fair and admit that somewhere in me, I feel at peace when I listen to the religious songs. Although perhaps it's limited to the charming opera singers with voices that bring goosebumps to your back. I dont know, and I am not sure why there should be a reason.

Egyptians believe that when you die, you get asked 2 questions, and your answers to these questions determines whether or not you can attend 'heaven' or 'hell'. The first question is have you found joy in your life?

And the second: Have you brought joy to the life of others?

The Budhists believe in karma, how you live your life and how you treat others.

The Christians/Catholics believe in sins.

I might be wrong, heck, I am certain I am wrong. But I think there's a red line here. I'm just not sure why they have to brand the red line and make it different.

Being the CEO for a Day :)

Today we had the most awesome opportunity to travel to Amsterdam to visit a consultancy company for a day. We focused on the topic of M&A, on the different issues ranging from the obvious to the inept yet crucial. I was expecting a hard, long day full of presentations and numbers and finance stuff.

It was a blast.

That was such a great, fun day. I didnt even realize I'm actually studying, it's so interactive! We were given the role of a CEO of a French winery attempting to takeover a Chinese winery. We were first given the task of estimating the values to justify the takeover. I went to the restroom, and when I got back our group was apparently the lucky one to present.

I was taken aback, having prepared nothing. Crap was the only word that I managed to produce.

So I just went for it, bla bla bla. Questions, initial panic, answers. Wow, it's amazing how your brain can think ever more clearly under pressure. It's great. It shows how rewarding it is for you to try to breakout from your comfort zone. To push your limits, to try no matter what the result will be.

Then we proceeded to the managing the integration part. We were given roles to play out the different cultural aspects of the 2 companies. It was so much fun. I got to play the French side, with Xenon personality (extensive use of facial expression and hand gestures). I got to play it with a consultant from the firm, and he had to play out the Chinese side. He was so into his role. He couldnt look at me straight in the eye, and can only answer Yes/No.

It was so funny how frustrating it is to try to sensitively maneuvre him into talking about the deal.

Makes me realize how distinct people are, and one size might not indeed fits all.

At that stage we were having so much fun I didnt want the day to end. An hour later I was so tired I basically told them Ik ben moe. Echt moe. Can I just be the secretary and write down stuff and not use my brain?

They said no and fed me M&Ms.

But that was an awesomely awesome day regardless. Sometimes maybe you shouldnt wish for a miracle to happen. Maybe all you need is to wish for an opportunity. And how different the outcome will be depends entirely on you.