The Umpteenth Journal Attempt

Woke up early (this is becoming a habit) to watch Liverpool versus Porto. Unfortunately this time they lost, but at least it was just by one goal and they weren't outclassed. Got to keep in mind that this entire pre-season tournament is just Rafael Benitez's means of testing out the players at his disposal and coming up with all possible formation permutations. Well, whatever the best line-up, I just hope Danny Murphy will be a regular fixture in it.

Not much news today, save for the wedding of Reni, someone who went to the same junior high and high school, so naturally it was yet another mini-reunion with my old schoolmates. First gathering I'd been to as a graduate, so it was congratulations all round. Well, of course it was: no decent person would be that much of a sadist to begrudge me for my achievement. Or I could be wrong here, and maybe it's just me who thinks "So bloody what?!" isn't an appropriate response to, "Hey, I graduated!" If it is, I sure haven't been on the receiving end. Yet.

Another morning departure to meet up with Riefky so he could give me my DVD (see previous post) before his return to Azerbaijan where he's been stationed for the past year or so as an employee of big-time oil company Schlumberger. He's a smart guy, which is obviously how he got the job, and I hear that it pays very well. The downside? Well, for starters, Azerbaijan isn't exactly a tourist hotspot (again, from what I hear. For all I know it's probably a nice place to be), and it looks like really heavy work (pre-Azerbaijan Riefky wasn't exactly the most strapping of specimens, but now it looks like they've been pumping him full of steroids). And on a more personal note, I doubt my mediocre grades would get me in, even if I wanted to work for them in those conditions.

Oh well, I guess all I can do is hope that there are other avenues that offer an equal amount of financial security but don't require outstanding grades. Daniel said that I wouldn't want to work for companies that have a 2.75-ish GPA prerequisite anyway, and I, for one, hope he's right. And I'm too keen on being a management trainee, something which apparently is what all the fresh graduates - regardless of what major they actually took - are pursuing.

I was watching the DVD prior to writing this, and come this paragraph, it has just dawned on me that that could be a potential future. While watching, I was quite oblivious to this particular implication as I was yukking it up at the cringe-inducing antics of David Brent (note to self: must find all The Office-related paraphernalia. That show rocked (the makers decided to end it after just two seasons - talk about going out on a high), and its many awards (including Golden Globes for best television comedy and best comedy actor for Ricky Gervais as David Brent - you may have seen him from those MTV ads as that sarcastic record store owner who thinks Ronan Keating is in the Backstreet Boys) were richly deserved. But now that I think of it, being in a dead end job with a myopic, delusional and incompetent buffoon for a boss could very well be what's in store for me at the workplace. Good lord.

Also today: met up with Leti (my ex-girlfriend) at the boutique where she works (a nice place called HLG, on Jl. Kemang 1C No. 10 (behind the mosque near McDonald's Kemang. Go check it out). Strictly unplanned, as I just happened to be in the neighbourhood due to my appointment with Riefky, and so I ended up fulfilling a couple-of-weeks-old request of hers that we meet up sometime. I must admit she looked nice, and seemed more at ease as opposed to a few months ago, when her boyfriend split up with her via long-distance phone. A much improved person.

But no, we're not going to get back with each other, mainly because neither of us want to. That particular option was closed off over two and a half years ago, and we've both moved on since then. Things are much better as they are, namely a relationship of mutual caring bordering on the platonic as opposed to getting back together just because it's familiar and convenient. No, I've had my fill of Leti-related mistakes. Time to take what I've learned from that and make some new mistakes with someone else. I'm way overdue.

Left early for campus to see Jamal and Ardian's presentations. Unfortunately for Ardian, his was cancelled at the very last moment - when he called the presentation examiner on the night before to remind him of the presentation, it turned out the examiner had forgotten all about it and had already made other plans. Ouch. Another reason I should be grateful, seeing as my presentation was virtually free of postponing glitches.

Was supposed to meet up with Riefky so he could hand over The Office Season 2 DVD he got me, but he couldn't make it. So I ended up hanging out at Jamal's place with Dipo, Posma, Kurnigar, Pakko and Ario for a spot of Winning Eleven. Actually, it wasn't so much a spot as it was a big, bloody splat, as I ended up being hell-bent on improving my skills to above Whipping Boy status. What this entailed was going up against Dipo countless times, and gradually evolving from a 4-2 loss until I could finally beat him at it. Between that initial loss and the eventual victory were numerous matches in which - apart from swearing a lot - I slowly became a more assured player, but just couldn't keep myself falling apart in the dying moments - which was pretty apt, considering England is my team of choice when playing. Though I must say that it was a relief that Wayne Rooney was just as good here as he is in real life, and David Beckham and Paul Scholes weren't as crap.

And after finally defeating Dipo, I went for one last match against Ario before heading home. The thing was: 1. we opted to play using club sides instead of national teams, so I had to adjust to using Liverpool instead of England; 2. prior to playing me, Ario (using Inter Milan) whupped Jamal (with AS Roma) 6-1, with Christian Vieri scoring four goals. And when I went 1-0 down in the opening seconds...well I was worried that the winning sensation I had worked so hard to earn against Dipo would be wiped out instantaneously. The fact that my left thumb was killing me and severely hampering my ability to move players across the field didn't help. But I managed to hold on and quickly turn things around, with Michael Owen and Milan Baros doing the goods which I hope they'll replicate in reality this season. 3-2 was the final scoreline, and I went home feeling chuffed and looking forward to whenever Romi challenges me again. At his house the other night, I didn't even score in regulation time throughout two matches, and only managed to win the last match through penalties - which, as any self-respecting football fan will tell you, doesn't count as a proper victory. But now that I've figured out how, I have a feeling the outcome of the next encounter will be significantly different.

In the meantime, I'm going to nurse my left thumb, which feels like it's about to go dead from exhaustion. An attempt to cut my right hand nails almost turned ghastly as my left thumb had enormous difficulty pressing down on the nail clipper. So if you notice my fingernails and see that the ones on my right hand are longer, then you know why.

And the congratulatory greetings keep pouring in via text message and MSN (though in the case of the latter, changing my nick to "Hello, my name is Hasief Ardiasyah, S.Sos" definitely has something to do with it). It's nice to know that a good number of people care. It's even better to know that a good number of that good number are women. And when some of those women whom are undoubtably rather attractive say they're proud of you...well let's just say that if my life stinks, I didn't get the memo. Bachelor of Social Science, beloved by the ladies...I like the sound of that...

Incidentally, there was one text message in particular that really made my graduation-related happiness complete, from someone I hadn't communicated in a while and I figured wouldn't care even if she weren't oblivious to my good fortune. Turns out that wasn't the case. I texted her back, asked her how she found out, she replied...then I thought, "Sod it," and just called her up, something I'd been meaning to do for a while but keep deciding against it after thinking it over too much. Spontaneity rules. So we talked and caught up with each other's lives, and I even offered to buy her lunch, an idea which she seemed receptive to. I don't want to jump to any conclusions (for all I know, the lunch thing was probably her just being polite) and think this might go anywhere concrete, so for the time being, I'll just be pleased that something finally went right with regards to her.

Other things that happened today: went with Halief to Aquarius Pondok Indah (picked up the limited edition of Ryan Adams' Gold), trawled Kemang's indie shops (I bought a Radiohead poster), went to Plaza Indonesia's newly-opened Aksara Bookstore branch (bought Graham Coxon's Happiness In Magazines at Duta Suara, bumped into my ex-djakarta! colleague Ve on the way to Aksara, bumped into Fitri too), waited for Dhitri to close up shop and drove her home, and dropped by Romi's place on the way home because Adjie was there (had a Winning Eleven rematch with Romi). Hope I can wake up tomorrow morning for Jamal and Ardian's presentations...

It's lucky my presentation was at one, because it meant I could catch the morning game between Liverpool and Celtic, the first time most people would be able to see the team under Rafael Benitez for the first time. And they sure didn't disappoint, whupping them 5-1, with my favourite player Danny Murphy significantly involved in the two goals scored by new boy Djibril Cisse. Gives hope that the regime change doesn't necessarily mean Danny-Boy's going anywhere...which is more than I can say for El-Hadji Diouf.

So anyway, the victory gave hope that it would set the tone for occurances later on this day. I'd go into more detail, but at the moment I'm so bloody sleepy. So in a nutshell: I passed. The presentation wasn't as stressful as I'd thought. In fact, it was rather enjoyable. Probably the most pleasant aspect of this whole graduating thing. I'm not entirely free yet, because I still have to make some corrections to my thesis. But in principle, as of today, I am now Hasief Ardiasyah, Bachelor of Social Science.

Less than 13 hours until the big showdown, and for some reason I don't feel all that worried. Had another simulation today, which seemed to go down well - but of course, when your friends say you're doing well, odds are it doesn't mean diddly-squat to the lecturers. At the very least I've had some practice at making a near-decent presentation, so I guess all I have to do know is just do a little bit more research for preparation's sake, and pray that my nerves don't go out at the decisive moment.

Reminds me of last weekend's episode of Coupling, the first season of which is currently being shown on Star World (a good reason to stay home on Saturday nights). This is the original, UK version, by the way, not the US remake that tanked horribly after the first few episodes. I'd been itching for a long while to watch some British comedy apart from multiple reruns of Mr. Bean (and S Club doesn't count). The last time was, like, six years ago on a trip to the British Council, watching Yes, Prime Minister on video, and prior to that, I only got to watch the occasional episode on plane trips back when I used to go to Saudi Arabia to visit the family. I don't know what my deal is regarding British comedies. Probably need a break from the endless stream of Yank humour I'm inundated with.

Anyway, back to Coupling: one of the episode's plot threads had to do with Jeff (the geek with the accent) who's up for a job interview and is nervous as hell. He gets told that the best way to calm one's self is to picture the interviewers naked. Thing is, he starts imagining everyone naked wherever he goes, which includes a funeral home full of old people.

The point of me telling this? Well, I'm about to enter a similar situation in terms of nerve-wracking potential, so I don't know, maybe the trick'll work. Then again, picturing my lecturers in a state of nudity isn't really enticing. But now that I think about it, enticement isn't the point. If I had four very attractive and very naked women sitting in front of me...well, let's just say my presentation would be the least of my concerns.

Got the following message via Friendster. And no, I did not make any of it up. I'm not that vain. (Names have been withheld unless I get told to do otherwise):

Yes, I'm a complete stranger, but I come with good intentions. :) I dwell blissfully in your devilish posts at MBDC* forum (I go by name '*********' there), and moreover, your blog always manages to crack me up. I love your writings. Really do. Was a Djakarta reader since day one it was published, though I try to keep a distance now. No offense. I think the music reviews still kick ass. Yeah.. just thought I'd say hello. :) And good luck for the thesis presentation! I was a fellow survivor. Yesterday was my thesis presentation, and though it didn't go as well as I hoped for, I'm just relieved that it's finally over.
 
An admirer,
 
W.
 
*MBDC = www.malesbanget.com

OK, so maybe I'm a little vain that I felt the need to show this message. Since W reads this blog, I figured she (yes, it's a she) might get a kick out of this. As for what I get out of it, I dunno. Concrete evidence that complete strangers are sometimes more complimentary than people you'd expect to be nice and attentive to whatever you're going through? A reminder that people actually read and enjoy what I write? I'm not sure what it is, but I know that it feels quite good. So thank you W., you just made my day.